California Case File

Title: California Case File - Part 1/4 (Chapters 1 - 6)
Author: Margie
Rating: R (mostly for violence and/or graphic descriptions of corpses
and things)
Pairing: MSR UST, M/Sc/Sk friendship

Summary: Mulder and Scully are loaned to ISU to help profile and
catch a serial killer in Santa Barbara, CA.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. 1013, Fox and Chris Carter have
carte blanche on all. (Except maybe Jon Engle)
Feedback: Yes please! margaritagomez1@msn.com
Archive: If you want it just email me to tell me where it's going. It will
eventually be on my own website when t tht the chance to update
(www.angelfire.com/indie/margarks/index.html)

Author's Note: ** Warning ** If you don't like descriptions of serial
murders and the affects they have on family members left behind
don't read this fic. Otherwise, enjoy.

Beta: Thanks to Fran!! My wonderful Beta. This story wouldn't have
been anywhere near as well written without your insightful character
and storyline comments, and your wonderful grammar skills!

***

Ch. 1

Lassiter Home
Santa Barbara, CA
December 29, 2002 1:12 AM PST

This was the third night he had come. Thankfully, it was dark tonight.
No stars, not even a moon. Tonight would be perfect.

He had been waiting for almost two hours now. Mr. Lassiter had
turned out the living room light and gone upstairs at just past 11 pm.
With Mrs. Lassiter already asleep, he had not turned on the bedroom
light but had, presumably, gone straight to bed.

He wanted to be sure. Needed to be certain. So he had waited
outside for the last two hours. He hadn’t seen atherther movement in
the house since then.

He rose with a soft sigh, stretching his long form. He heard the crack
his neck made as his vertebrae popped back into place.

Glancing furtively around, he slipped from his hiding place, moving
toward the dark house.

***

Hoover Building
Washington DC
December 30, 2002 3:23 PM EST

Mulder and Scully sat just outside AD Skinner’s office. Skinner had
called them up from downstairs without an explanation, so of course,
Mulder was fidgeting.

“Mulder, sit still.” Scully arched a demanding eyebrow at him.

“Sorry, Scully.” He smiled sheepishly at her, but instead of relaxing
became even more agitated. He pushed out of his chair and began
pacing in front of her.

Scully followed him with her eyes and was about to order him to sit
when Skinner’s door opened, and they both turned to see Kimberly
exiting the office, writing notes on the pad she held.

“He’ll see now now,” Kim stated casually as she sat back down at her
desk.

Mulder waited for Scully to rise before leading her toward the open
door, his hand on the small of her back. Skinner did not look up from
the file he was reading until they had both seated themselves in their
usual spots.

Mulder threw a quick glance at Scully, noticing how calm and
professional she looked. ‘As always,’ he thought. Not that he wasn’t
calm, per se; he just wasn’t very fond of these unscheduled AD to
Agent meetings. More often than not, they ended in a very
unsatisfactory way, for him, at least.

“Agents,” Skinner acknowledged, finally looking up from his file and
closing the folder. He studied them both for a moment as they
nodded a greeting.

He noted Scully’s usual professional demeanor, and wasn’t surprised
to find Mulder’s tense expression. Obviously, the man knew
something was up.

Inwardly, Skinner sighed, wishing there were a way to avoid the
conversation. Outwardly, his grimace never faltered. He’d worked
hard to perfect his “hard-ass” image.

“Well, I’m sure you two have heard of the recent slayings in
California.” He flipped the folder open again and turned it toward the
two agents.

“The couple killings?” Mulder pulled the folder onto his lap, moving
imperceptibly closer to Scully so that she could read it as well.

“Yes. There was another set of murders last night. The local PD has
asked for ISU assistance.” Skinner watched Mulder carefully for any
reaction. He received none as Mulder continued to peruse the file.

“Why call us in, sir?” Scully’s voice broke into his thoughts. She too
glanced at her partner for a reaction. Unlike Skinner, she noticed the
slight tenseness to his jaw, and a tightness in the line of his
shoulders.

“Because, Agent, your assistance has been requested.”

“Are you reassigning us to ISU, sir?” Mulder finally responded.

“Only temporarily, Mulder.” This time he did sigh out loud. “I know
how much you dislike these cases. And I realize you have legitimate
concerns. Believe me, I don’t like this anymore than you do - ”

“Then why do it, sir?" Mulder broke in.

“We don’t have a choice. ISU is shorthanded. With the serial rapists
in both Chicago and Boulder, and the bombings in Detroit, they don’t
have much staff to devote to this case. They’ve already sent one
profiler down, but for all intents and purposes, he’s a rookie. They
need someone experienced. As of last night, there are eight people
dead.” Skinner dry washed his face with his palm before looking back
up at his agents.

The file was now on Scully’s lap, the folder closed. Her face turned
toward Mulder in a questioning stare. Mulder raised his head and
gave his partner a brief reassuring glance before turning his eyes
toward the Assistant Director.

“When do we leave, sir?”

Skinner grunted acceptance of his quiet capitulation. “Kim made
reservations on the 7:30 flight tonight. Jon will meet you at the
airport.”

“Jon, sir?” Scully asked.

“Jon Engle. He’s the ISU profiler. He’s already expecting you.” With
that, Skinner dropped his gaze back to the other folders on his desk,
effectively dismissing them.

Again Mulder waited for Scully to rise before stepping up behind her.
He gently guided her toward the door, but turned abruptly before
leaving. “How much of a rookie, sir?”

Skinner knew what he was asking. How long has he had to soak up
the rumors? How long has he had to steep in the ISU waters?
Would he be grateful for, or resentful of, their assistance?

“Enough, Mulder. Enough.”

Ch. 2

Scully looked over at her sleeping partner. She surreptitiously moved
a fallen lock of brown hair away from his face. He always looked so
peaceful in sleep. She wondered for the hundredth time how he was
able to sleep during these trips. She supposed it was because
di
didn’t get any sleep at home.

Mulder wasn’t quite leaning on Scully's shoulder, but it was close
enough for him. It wasn’t like he was deceiving her about his dream
state; he had been asleep, after all. He always fell asleep during their
plane trips, if only because it allowed him to be in closer physical
proximity to her. Today he had gotten a bonus. He had felt the brush
of her soft fingers against his forehead as she tried to tame his unruly
hair.

At the ding of the seat belt light, Mulder lifted his head and stretched.

“Skinner did say they were holding the scene, right?” He turned
toward his partner, who was readjusting her seat to its upright
position.

“Yes. They’ve already bagged the bodies and sent them to the local
coroner’s office. They’re holding them for me.”

“So, Scully, what do you think of our UNSUB so far?” Mulder asked
quietly as they waited for the plane to land.

“Well…I’d really like to take a look at those bodies. I’ve asked them
to have the autopsy bay set up for me by 9 AM tomorrow morning.
But from the looks of the other autopsy photos, it appears as if the
killings are very ritualized.” Cognizant of the other passengers on the
plane, Scully kept her voice as soft as Mulder’s had been.

“Each victim was stabbed 3-4 times with what appears to be a knife
blade of at least 6 inches in length. Possibly a hunting knife.” She
was looking at a point just beyond his shoulder. A slight frown
marred her face as she thought. “There are also faint ligature marks
around each neck. The autopsy reports don’t indicate whether they
were able to identify the source.”

Scully gripped the armrests as the plane landed on the tarmac with a
bump. She didn’t exactly hate flying, but she wasn’t very fond of it
either.

Mulder was quiet a moment, and she recognized the look he got
when he was deep in thought. As the other passengers began to
disembark the plane, he looked up and caught her eye. “We need to
know what he’s using. It’s important.” And with that, he lifted himself
out of his seat and reached up for their carry-on luggage.

***

LAX
Los Angeles, CA
December 30, 2002 9:13 PM PST

Jon was making his third pass through the LAX pick-up loop when he
finally spotted them. He was nervous. He’d only been in ISU for four
months, but even he had heard rumors about Spooky Mulder.

He didn’t really understand most of them. But he had read through
some of Mulder's old cases, and he knew the work of a genius when
he saw it. Every profile he read had been dead on. And Mulder's
solve rate, then and now, was higher than any other agent in the unit.

And now he was supposed to be working with him! And Agent Scully.
He took small comfort in the fact that she had been a rookie like him
when she was first assigned to work with Mulder.

He watched them as he pulled up. He had seen enough newspaper
clippings to recognize Mulder’s features, and he had been told that
Scully was a short redhead. It’s wasn't like they were going to be
hard to miss.

They were standing close together with their heads bent. Or at least,
Mulder’s head was bent. It looked as if they were whispering to each
other, and if they hadn’t been wearing their official FBI regalia they
would look like any other normal couple coming to LA for a weekend
getaway.

He noticed that whenever either one spoke, the other would be
listening attentively. As he stepped out of the car to introduce
himself, he saw communicative looks pass between them.

“Nice to meet you.” Mulder murmured as he held out his hand.

Scully followed suit and once the introductions were complete, all
three loaded into the car and headed out of the airport. Jon was
driving, with Mulder in the front passenger seat.

“Thanks for coming out to get us, Jon,” Scully said from her seat
behind Mulder.

“No problem. Sorry I wasn’t able to meet you at the gate. LAX hasn’t
allowed non-ticketed people into the terminals since 911.”

“Yeah, it probably wouldn’t have been worth the hassle of pulling out
your badge.”

They drove for a while in silence. Once they hit Highway 101, traffic
eased off a tiny bit.

“God! I always forget how bad traffic is on the 405 until I have to go
through it!” Jon exclaimed.

“Forget?” Scully looked up quizzically. “Does that mean you used to
live here?”

“Oh, yeah. I grew up in the valley…San Fernando that is. Have you
two ever been to Santa Barbara? It’s a great city. I went to school up
there. Got my bachelors in History at UCSB before going to law
school at UCLA.”

“Good.” Mulder murmured as he flipped another page of the file over.
“That means you know the area. How well do you know the area
around the crime scenes?”

“Fairly well. The latest site was in downtown Santa Barbara. Just a
few streets off State, the main drag. The first murder was in
Montecito, which I don’t know that well. And the other two were in
Goleta, which I know like the back of my hand. I lived there my last
two years of college.

“What’s really odd to me...what I haven’t been able to figure out yet, is
why the UNSUB seems to ignore the victims’ social class. I mean,
Goleta and Montecito aren’t exactly in the same league, if you know
what I mean.”

“I take it that one is slightly more upper class than the other?” Scully
raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

“You could say that. Montecito is where all the rich folk go to live out
their remaining years, while all the poor college kids and other scum
of the earth reside in good old Goleta.” Scully looked over to see
Jon’s self-deprecating smile.

“Well, that’s why victimology is so important. We need to be able to
ascertain the victims’ key characteristics in order to get a handle on
this guy. Although a large percentage of serial killers like to confine
themselves to one race and social status, there are still a certain
percentage that disregard these for more specific attributes.” As he
spoke, Mulder looked up to glance at their driver. He wasn’t sure how
Jon would react to his statements.

It was always a struggle for him, Mulder reflected. It seemed as if
every colleague he ever had to work with had preconceived notions
about him. Even Scully had them; she just never allowed them to
color her decisions about him. Scully needed hard evidence; she
would never just take anything at face value. That was what he loved
about her.

He was relieved to see Jon nodding his head, so he continued.
“Obviously, social class isn’t a key factor for our UNSUB. What
factors have you suggested in your profile so far?” Mulder had read
the case file, but had not been given a copy of Jon’s latest profile,
most likely because Jon hadn’t turned in anything written yet.

“Well, all the couples so far have been in their thirties. They're all
white, and all have children, though of differing ages and sex. I
haven’t been able to connect the couples yet. Two of the wives
shopped at the same grocery store, but so far, I haven’t been able to
come up with anything more concrete.” Jon turned to Mulder as he
spoke.

“Has the local PD been able to make any connections between the
children?” Mulder finally closed the file folder and handed it back to
Scully, who promptly slipped it into her laptop case.

“Well…they don’t attend the same schools. Not even within the same
household. Four of the children attend the same elementary school,
and two are in the same high school, all within the public school
system. The Montecito kids attend private school, although also
within the local area.”

Jon pulled into the parking lot of a Motel 6 as he finished debriefing
them. Scully looked around and let out an audible sigh. “Well,
Mulder. It looks like Jon’s got about the same taste in
accommodations that you do!”

Mulder grinned crookedly at her as he stepped out of the car and
toward the trunk, pulling out their luggage as Scully exited the car and
came to stand by his side. As he watched, she linked her hands
together and stretched them as far as she could above her head. As
she smoothed out the kinks left over from the long ride, the bottom of
her suit jacket rose to just above her waist. Mulder was rewarded
with a view of Scully’s creamy skin and a peek at her belly button. He
was momentarily lost in a fantasy involving said belly button and his
own, now dry, tongue.

“Mulder?” Scully nudged him with her elbow. She was standing with
her hand held out, waiting for him to pass over her bag.

“Huh?” He shook his head, dispersing the last of his fantasy image.
“Oh, sorry.” He handed her bag over, while successfully reciting the
lyrics to the theme from the Greatest American Hero in his head. He
could really relate to that show. By the time he had gone through the
lyrics twice, he was able to close the trunk and step away from the car
without completely embarrassing himself.

***

Motel 6
Santa Barbara, CA
December 30, 2002 11:23 PM PST

As usual, they had adjoining rooms, with the only difference being
that Mulder was sharing his room with Jon. Mulder threw his bag
othe the first bed before heading over to the adjoining door and
unlocking it. A second later he heard the click as Scully did the same
on her side. When he turned back around, he noticed Jon quickly
look away.

He sighed.

“Jon? Do you mind if I call you Jon?” Mulder did not look at him as
he unpacked his clothes. He normally didn’t bother, but he wanted
something to do with his hands in order to avoid using them to
strangle the hapless rookie.

“N-no, sir.” Jon stuttered. He was embarrassed to have noticed
er’ser’s actions. The rumors about Mr. and Mrs. Spooky were now
running rampant through his mind.

“I take it you’re wondering why I’ve unlocked the door to Agent
Scully’s room?”

“N-no, sir. It’s none of my business, sir.”

“Damn right it isn't, Jon, but I’m going to tell you anyway.” The
repeated use of Jon’s name was a technique that Mulder had learned
at Quantico. During any type of negotiation, the injection of a name
helped to personalize the relationship. It allowed the agent to soothe
the suspect into a false sense of security.

“We're partners." Mulder said simply.

Jon only nodded, not wanting to agitate the other agent. But as they
resumed their unpacking and got ready for bed, he had to wonder.
Exactly what was Mulder's definition of a 'partner'?

Ch. 3

Sheriff’s Department
Santa Barbara, CA
December 31, 2002 8:00 AM PST

Mulder led Scully into the station, with Jon bringing up the rearas they
entered the small building. From the front lobby, Mulder could see
the standard furnishings of every law enforcement office he’d ever
been in. Behind the front counter was a large open area holding eight
desks in groups of two. Only one desk was currently occupied, while
one other officer sat at the front counter.

Jon nodded a morning greeting, and gave brief introductions before
pointing down the hall to an office on the left. Upon entering the room
Mulder could see that Jon had set it up as the war room. There were
crime scene photos taped to the walls and several case folders lay
open on the table.

As Scully opened her case and began pulling out her laptop, Mulder
made his way to the far east wall to study the photos. The first set
came from the home of Peter and Lisa Hunt, the first set of victims.
From what he had read in the file last night, they were the parents of
11 year old twins Reese and Rebecca. This was the couple from
Montecito. The wall also held a family photo of the victims, including
their son and daughter.

A quick glance at the rest of the wall indicated that Jon had gotten
family photos of each of the victims. He was glad to put faces to the
children, since they would be interviewing them later on that day. But
seeing the smiling faces placed so close to the crime scene photos
gave him an uneasy feeling.

He kept focusing on first one photo and then another as the
discomfort made its way toward his stomach. He never liked seeing
the UNSUB’s handiwork, although he knew it was necessary for him
to create a valid profile.

He continued down the wall until he came to the latest victims, Alex
and Marie Lassiter. Ages 36 and 33, with an only child of 9.
Christopher had been asleep in his bed and hadn't heard a sound that
night. Neighbors called 911 when they heard Chris’ screams upon
waking and finding himself locked in his room. The UNSUB had
taken a chair from the hallway and blocked the child’s door.

Already having studied the crime scene photos last night, Mulder
focused instead on the family photo. Is this what the UNSUB saw?
Was he jealous of the victims? They each had what most people
would call the American Dream. Nice homes in suburban country,
and various progeny to carry on the family traditions. His mind kept
turning back to the children. Why weren’t the children touched?
None of them had even been awakened during the murders.

Mulder turned at the sound of the office door. In walked a man who
looked to be in his early fifties, wearing what was obviously the
county sheriff’s uniform. He was in relatively good shape. At least
there was no apparent beer belly, and he didn’t seem to have a
disproportionate amount of body fat.

“Gentleman, ma’am.” He tipped his hat. “I’m Sheriff Crane. I know
there’s usuallyot oot of jurisdictional bullshit on these kinds of cases,
so I want to get this over with,” he began without preamble.

“I called you in because I need your help. Haven’t been able to come
up with much of anything in this case. Heard about the ISU from a
friend with the LAPD. Said she’d worked with some of your people
be, ae, and thought you might be able to help.”

Mulder eyed him warily as Scully noted, “Sir, we know this is your
case. We’ve only been brought in to consult, as I’m sure Agent Engle
has told you.”

“Well, this is my case, but I want you to do whatever needs doing in
order to catch this guy. I’ll assign one of my deputies to you since I
assume you’ll want to visit the scenes and do some witness
interviews - ”

“That won’t be necessary, sir,” Mulder was quick to interject. He
didn’t want any local PD hampering the investigation. He’d found that
most people didn’t understand what profiling was, and didn’t really
believe in the process. “Agent Engle knows the area. We’ll be sure
to update you on any new findings.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Agent Mulder. I’d prefer one of my
men went with you.”

‘Here we go,’ Mulder thought, ‘Do whatever needs to be done, my
ass.‘

“Sir, we’re going to be re-interviewing the children today. It would be
best if we came in with the least amount of people.”

“That’s even more reason for my deputy to go with you. He was at
most of the original interviews. He already has an established
relationship with the children,” Sheriff Crane rebounded.

“Sheriff, if you really want us to help yI suI suggest you let us do our
jobs.” Mulder was getting tired of the verbal sparring, and Scully shot
him a warning look.

“Sir, we’re not here to take over your investigation, or to take credit for
the collar. All we want is to keep any other children from losing their
parents.” Scully, as always, was placating.

“Fine, but you better keep me in the loop.” Sheriff Crane left, shutting
the door firmly behind him.

“Mulder! Why can’t you ever get along with the locals?” Scully asked
as she turned back to her partner.

He was grinning at her when he replied, “Sorry, Scully. Maybe Engle
here knows how to bake?”

For his part Jon was embarrassed to find himself confused over the
conversation, and happy for some reason that Mulder had called him
Engle. In his four months with the ISU, and his one year within the
Bureau, he’d never met any other agents that referred to each other
solely by their surnames. It made him feel curiously accepted to be
included in that little ritual.

“Mulder, I don’t think a Bundt cake is going to do it this time.” She
humphed at him. She caught Jon’s confused stare, and just shook
her head. “Sorry, Jon. It’s a long and probably boring story.”

She watched Mulder as he again made his way over to the Lassiter
family photo. It was a small blessing that the UNSUB had locked
poor Chris in his room thightight. It not only kept him safe from
discovering the UNSUB on the scene, but also kept him from
discovering his parents in the morning.

She looked down at her watch and found it was almost time for her to
begin the autopsies. With two bodies, she would be working all day.
Good thing she was wearing her ‘sensible’ shoes today;only two inch
heels. As she was contemplating her footwear, Mulder spoke up
beside her.

“Hey, Scully?” He was still staring at the photo.

“Yes, Mulder?”

“Did the autopsy reports say anything about drugs in the system of
any victims?”

“Toxicology reports didn’t indicate anything more than a few drops of
alcohol. Probably some wine with dinner or something equally
innocuous. Why?”

“How do you think he kept the children from waking? I mean, there
were two victims. How did he keep them both quiet? He’d have to
incapacitate them both at the same time.”

“Maybe he used threats against the children to keep them quiet?”
Agent Engle suggested.

“Maybe,” he acknowledged. “We need to interview those kids. I have
a feeling that it all comes back to them.”

“I’ll probably be working at the morgue all day. It’ll take at least 6 or 7
hours to get through both autopsies.”

“Okay, Scully. Engle and I will be visiting the crime scenes first. Give
us a call if you find anything interesting.” When she turned she
noticed her partner waggling his eyebrows at her. “go dgo do that
voodoo you do, Scully.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Just don’t spook the locals anymore,
okay, Mulder?” She heard his answering chuckle down the hall.

Ch. 4

Coroner’s Office
Santa Barbara, CA
December 31, 2002 11:43 AM PST

‘Happy new year to me.’ Scully thought as she placed Alex Lassiter’s
liver on the scale. At least she was almost done with Mr. Lassiter.
Probably another hour to go before she could start up on Marie
Lassiter.

Although there was no question that he had died of massive blood
loss due to the 4 stab wounds in his chest, he also had some blunt
force trauma to the head. And of course, there were those faint
ligature marks around his neck. The UNSUB must have
incapacitated Mr. Lassiter with a blow to the head in order to be able
to attack Mrs. Lassiter with impunity.

She was just about to pull off her gloves when the trill from her cell
phone caught her attention.

“Scully.”

“Did you find anything interesting?” She recognized the soft cadence
of her partner’s voice. Even without voice recognition, she knew it
was him. Who else called without bothering with even a small
greeting?

“Depends on what you consider interesting, Mulder.”

“Oooh, Scully. Are you coming on to me?” She could practically hear
the leer in his voice.

Ignoring him, she continued, “Alex Lassiter evidenced blunt force
trauma to the head. It most likely rendered him unconscious on
impact. He had four stab wounds around the upper chest, and very
faint ligature marks on the neck. He died from the massive blood loss
caused by the stab wounds. I was able to lift a few strands of fiber off
his neck. I’m sending them to the lab for analysis.”

While she spoke, she scrubbed her hands and arms in the ME’s sink.
“I’m also sending a blood sample for the toxicology report, although I
doubt we’ll find anything. If he had been drugged, there would have
been no reason for the blow to his head.”

“So our UNSUB got to Mr. Lassiter first. Beat him unconscious then
went after Mrs. Lassiter? He must have been pretty quick to keep her
from screaming before he got to her.” Mulder was mumbling to
himself as she laid out the facts for him. “Okay, Scully. Can you see
if the lab will rush the fibers? The strangulation is part of his
signature. He knows the stabbing alone wouill ill his victims, but he
feels the need to strangle them anyway. I have a feeling if we can
find out what he’s using, it will bring us one step closer to figuring out
his motive.”

“Sure, Mulder. I’m just about to start up on Mrs. Lassiter. I’ll call you
when I’m through.” Scully was about to hit the END button on her
phone when she heard Mulder call out to her.

“Scully, wait!”

“Yes?”

“Engle and I have gone through the first three crime scenes. We’re
on our way to the Lassiter home now.”

“Okay, Mulder.”

“I know you haven’t eaten anything except for that disgusting yogurt
at breakfast.”

“It wasn’t disgusting, Mulder. I like yogurt.” She smiled at the
grimace in his voice.

“I’d bring you a sandwich or something but we haven’t finished going
over the crime scenes, and we still have to do the second interviews.”

“I’m fine, Mulder. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, Scully. But you get wrapped up when you’re
working, and forget sometimes. So I ordered you a pizza. It’ll be
there in about ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Mulder. I’ll save you a slice for when you pick me up
tonight.”

“Oooh. A New Year’s Eve, my lovely partner, and cold pizza. What
more could a guy ask for?”

* Click *

He barked out a laugh when he heard the distinct sound of Scully
hanging up on him.

“Do you always talk to Agent Scully that way?”

He looked over at Engle. He’d forgotten he wasn’t alone in the car.
“What way?” He feigned ignorance.

“I don’t know. It just seems sort of…I don’t know…forget it.” Jon
could feel his face turning red at his inarticulate statement.

“What? Ordering her a pizza?”

“Well, I guess. I’ve just never seen two partners who work the way
that you two do.”

“Jon, Scully and I have seen a lot of nasty shit together. It’s made us
get to know each other a lot faster and better than most partners in
the Bureau. I watch out for her when she’s working, the same way
she’ll watch out for me when I get too deep into the profile.”

Mulder pulled into the driveway of the Lassiter home, contemplating
the discussion they’d just had. Jon seemed genuinely interested in
Mulder’s opinion on the case, and didn’t seem to harbor any
resentment at being usurped by Spooky Mulder. Mulder wasn’t
inclined to trust anyone, except Scully of course, but he found himself
feeling oddly comfortable around the younger man. He found himself
wanting to dissuade Jon from believing any of the rumors he was
sure to have heard.

They both climbed out of the standard issue Ford Taurus and headed
toward the house. Jon pulled out the keys the sheriff had given him
and they both ducked under the yellow tape across the front door.

The house was cold. Obviously, the heat had been turned off. It was
probably 60 degrees out at the moment, but last night had been down
in the 40s. The living room was small, maybe 500 square feet. There
was a small counter separating it from the kitchen area towards the
back of the house. To the left were the stairs leading to the second
floor bedrooms.

At the top of the stairs was Chris’ room. Mulder entered there first.
The room was typical for a 9 year old boy, he thought. There was a
computer in the corner, and a Playstation 2 hooked up to the TV by
the bed. There weren’t any posters on the walls, but there were
plenty of magazines lying strewn across the computer desk. Most
had to do with video games, presumably for the Playstation 2.

Jon watched as Mulder circled the room.

“Did any of the others have Playstations?” Mulder asked abruptly.

“Uh…No…I think one of them, the Harris’ had one. The Hunt’s had
some sort of Nintendo, the latest one…a Gamecube? And the
Sanderson’s didn’t have either.” Jon wondered what this had to do
with anything. Plenty of kids had video games.

“Just a hunch,” Mulder shrugged. “Let’s head over to the master
bedroom.”

This was the worst part. The scene was still relatively fresh. Blood
stained the sheets on the left side of the mattress. Mr. Lassiter had
been stabbed while still unconscious on his side of the bed. On the
right, it was clear that Mrs. Lassiter had tried to escape. The blood
staining the carpet was thick. There were splashes of it on her side of
the bed as well, so she must have been stabbed as she stood to run.

“Was there any sign that anything had been taken from the house?”
Mulder queried as he continued his study of the room.

“No, but Marie Lassiter’s wedding ring was missing from her finger.
As were the rings of each of the other three wives.”

“MMhhmm.” Mulder acknowledged having read this in the files last
night. “And none of the men’s rings were taken, correct?”

Jon answered with a “Yes,” but knew that Mulder wasn’t really
listening. He could almost see all of the facts pulling together in
Mulder's head, his mind working to create the links that nobody else
could see.

“We need to find his ex-wife.”

“Whose? Mr. Lassiter’s?” Jon was genuinely confused.

“No. The UNSUB. I’m willing to bet the divorce just became final. It’s
probably the stressor that pushed him over the edge.” He walked
around to the other side of the bed, squatting down to examine the
bloodied carpet.

“He enjoys killing the women. I think we’ll find that her wounds were
driven by ragSculScully should be able to verify that. See, he leaves
the men unconscious, not caring whether they know what’s
happening. But the women…he wants them awake. Wants them to
know that they’re going to die.”
der’der’s eyes had gone glassy. His recitation fell into a monotone as
he put the picture together in his mind’s eye. “He stabs them. Mostly
to incapacitate them, but leave them aware enough to feel it when he
pulls the cord tighter. He gets a rush from seeing them struggle for
air…feeling their ineffectual attempts to escape his hold. For him, it’s
all about the moment the struggles cease. The moment he realizes
that he’s literally choked the life out of them.”

Jon was watching Mulder intently as he looked up to focus on Mr.
Lassiter’s side of the bed. “By the time he’s done with the women,
the husbands are nearly dead. They’ve lost so much blood that it’s
really inevitable. But he gets up, and wraps the cord around their
necks anyway. And he pulls. It’s not the same sensation, but it
somehow assuages some guilt for him. Maybe he’s using the men as
a sort of effigy for himself. I’m not sure.” Mulder’s eyes refocused as
he turned toward Jon. “How much of that is already in your profile?”

“Uhm…not much. To tell you the truth, this is the first case I’ve been
on my own. I figured that the UNSUB was misplacing anger for either
his mother, or his wife. But I hadn’t factored in the importance of the
strangulation. And I’d assumed that if he’d had a wife, she’d be dead
by now.” Jon watched for Mulder’s reaction to his attempts at the
profile.

“No. I don’t think he’s killed his wife. If he had, the murders wouldn’t
be so rage driven. He’d have taken some of that out on his wife
already. As it is, he’s probably using them to do what an’tan’t to his
real wife. Or ex-wife, as the case may be.”

As Mulder became more aware of his surroundings he realized that
the room had grown dark. He checked his watch to find that it was
nearly 6 o’clock. How long had they been here?

“Let’s go. We’re not going to get any interviews done today. We can
call the current guardians tomorrow and set up a time to meet the ldreldren. It might be a good idea to interview them all separately and
then get them all together in one room to go over their statements. It
might allow us to make a few more connections.”

“That’s not really SOP, is it?” Jon had never heard of allowing
witnesses to taint each other’s interviews like that.

“Maybe you haven’t heard ALL the rumors yet.”

Ch. 5

Motel 6, Room 143
Santa Barbara, CA
December 31, 2002 11:57 PM PST

After picking Scully up from the morgue, they stopped at a local
Chinese place for some takeout. Mulder was munching on the last of
the kung pao chicken while Scully went over her findings in Marie
Lassiter’s autopsy.

“Her wounds were a lot deeper and longer than those found on her
husband. The killer used only three stabs, but the incisions were all 2
to 3 inches long. Mr. Lassiter’s wounds were no longer than an inch;
probably the width of the blade.”

Scully flipped the page on her report, allowing her time to chew on a
mouthful of sticky rice.

“The ligature marks on her neck were a lot more pronounced. She
was most likely still conscious when he strangled her. There was too
much bruising for her to have bled out yet. I found some more of
those fibers on Mrs. Lassiter and sent them to the lab as well.”

“What do you think, Scully?” She looked up from her carton of
vegetable lo mein to find Mulder perusing the autopsy report she had
just put down. He was wearing a pair of old jeans and a faded blue t-
shirt. He was sprawled comfortably on the opposite bed.

For a moment she pictured him there without any files, or a t-shirt for
that matter.

“Scully?” At the sound of his voice the image shattered.

“I think that the evidence supports your profile of the UNSUB’s MO.
But we still don’t have motive. And we don’t know how he’s choosing
his victims.”

“I know, Scully. It’s been nagging at me all day. I’ve told Jon that I’m
sure the children are the key. We just have to figure out how they’re
connected.” He was chewing on his bottom lip as he spoke.

“So, did you play nice with Agent Engle today Mulder?”

“Of course, Scully! I was on my best behaviorHe gHe gave her his ‘who
me?’ look.

She raised an eyebrow at him in query.

He gave a long suffering sigh, “Don’t worry, Scully. I haven’t done
anything to alienate the poor rookie.”

“Mulder, I know you don’t play well with others, but he seems like a
good guy. At least he hasn’t made any spooky jokes yet.”

“No. But I know he’s heard the rumors. He’s asked some questions.”

“What kind of questions?” Scully’s early warning system was starting
to go off.

“Oh, you know. The usual. Questions about us. About how we work
together.”

“Dammit!”

“It wasn’t like that. I guess he just noticed that our working
relationship isn’t really SOP, as he would put it.” She still had that
concerned look on her face, so he continued. “You know, Scully, h
r
right. Our partnership has never been SOP. It’s not…well…it’s not
what most people think, but it’s still not what most Bureau
partnerships are. You know that.”

She noticed the brief hesitation and glanced up. She saw something
vaguely unreadable in his eyes before he schooled his expression.
Before she could answer, there was a knock on the connecting door.

“Happy New Year!” Agent Engle stood in the doorway, his hair still
wet from his shower.

Mulder glanced down at his watch and noted the time as 12:06 AM.
His mouth quirked up in a smile and he lifted his can of Brisk ice tea
to Scully.

“Happy New Year,” they said in unison as their cans clunked
together.

***

Sheriff’s Department, Interview Room B
Santa Barbara, CA
January 1, 2003 3:41 PM PST

“I’m glad we couldn’t do the interviews yesterday Scully.” They were
waiting as the Sanderson children were led into the interview room.

“Why’s that, Mulder?”

“I’d much rather have you here. I can’t count on Engle to pick up on
anything I miss. Not really.” This was said quietly enough so that
Agent Engle, sitting on the other side of the table, couldn’t overhear.
Mulder didn’t want to insult the guy. But Engle was a rookie, after all.
And he definitely wasn’t Scully. So what did he expect?

The unspoken admission from Mulder that Scully could and would
pick up on anything that he missed warmed her, though her
expression never changed. Mulder had always treated her as an
agent. A good agent. The occasional innuendo or smart-ass
comments about ‘little feet’ never made her feel as if he considered
her as part of the ‘weaker’ sex. She was a navy brat, after all. She’d
heard her share of innuendo.

There was a short rap on the door, and then a troop of children were
led into the room by a deputy. Mulder noted the children, mentally
assigning names to each as they walked in. The tallest was Sally, the
15 year old attending Calle Real High School. The younger sister
was Julie, 10 years old, attending Goleta Elementary along with her
brother Robert, age 8. Two weary looking adults followed, the
woman looking remarkably like Sally and Julie. ‘Must be an aunt,’
Mulder thought.

This was the last of their interviews. They had already spoken with
the children from each of the other victims’ families. Mulder still
wanted to get all the children together, but wanted to hold off for a few
days. They hadn’t really learned anything yet that wasn’t in the
original interview sessions.

“Thank you again for coming in today.” Scully addressed the
Sandersons' guardians.

“Of course. We want to hel any anyway to catch the man that did
this

“Well, we just have a few questions for the kids, and then we’ll let you
be on your way. We may need them one more time, probably early
next week, to go over any new questions that may arise.” Mulder was
solicitous. When the guardians nodded, he turned toward the
children.

“Hi. My name’s Fox Mulder. You can call me Fox.” He gave them
his warmest smile.

“Nu uh!” Robert’s eyes were wide, and Julie couldn’t suppress her
giggle. Sally gave each of them ak ank and they quieted down.

‘Interesting,’ Mulder thought.

“I’m very sorry about your parents.” The three of them had agreed
beforehand that Mulder would be doing most of the talking. He was a
trained psychost ast and worked well with children.

“Thank you, Mr. Mulder.” Sally answered, her head lowered.

“Fox. Call me Fox.” She smiled weakly up at him.

“Can you tell me what you all were doing on the day it happened?”

“I think so. It was nothing really different. Robert and Julie get home
about an hour or so before I do. They’re supposed to go straight
home and do their homework, but they usually don’t. Do their
homework, that is.” She looked around at her brother and sister and
gave them the look of a fed up sister.

“When I got home that day they were both sitting in front of the
television watching Nickelodeon. I turned it off and made them go
upstairs to their rooms and start their homework while I made a
snack. After our snack, Robert and Julie sat back down in front of the
TV and I went upstairs to do my homework.”

“And where were your parents at this time?”

“At work, I guess. They usually didn’t get home until around 5:30.”
Sally shrugged.

“So, you’re all latch key kids?” ‘That explains her behavior toward the
children,’ Mulder thought. Now that her parents are gone for good,
she thinks she has to take over thee she she usually only has between
3 and 5 pm.

“Yeah, I guess. A lot of the kids at school are like that. I never
thought about it much.”

“Okay. Can you think of anything unusual that happened that day or
that week? Did any of you meet any new people?”

All three of the children shook their heads.

They concluded the interview and Mulder led them out of the room.
“Thank you again. You’ve all been a lot of help. We’ll give you a call
if we have any other questions or need to meet with you again.”

When he returned Scully and Engle were discussing the interview.

“Still nothing new. Everything they said here was already discussed
at the first interview.” Engle was leaning toward Scully as he spoke.

“There’s got to be a connection somewhere we’re missing.” Scully
shook her head in thought.

“There is.” Mulder answered as he walked back and sat next to her.
“So far all the children have been latch key kids.”

“Mulder, that doesn’an aan anything. There are plenty of latch key
kids out there.” Scully wasn’t buying into his theory.

“I know that, Scully. But it’s important. And so far, it's the only clear
link we have.” He dry washed his face with his hands before
continuing. “Now we just have to figure out how he’s finding out, and
what is making him choose these kids over any others.”

Ch. 6

Somewhere on State Street
Santa Barbara, CA
January 2, 2003 1:13 PM PST

He was watching her.

She wasn’t particularly beautiful. She had short brown hair that
curled in at the ends. She was fairly short, only about 5'4". She wore
a business pantsuit with 2 inch matching heels.

She had just come from work. He had followed her throughout her
lunch. As they walked up State Street toward her office, he made
sure to keep out of sight.

It was her fault. He wasn’t g tog to let her do it again.

He watched as the door closed behind her.

***

Sheriff’s Department
Santa Barbara, CA
January 2, 2003 7:52 PM PST

Scully checked her watch. It was nearly 8 o’clock. Her stomach was
marching a protest against her less than nutritious lunch and her non-
existent dinner.

It had been a pretty fruitless day. Based on Mulder’s profile, they
were searching for any divorce decrees that had been finalized in the
past 5 years within the Santa Barbara and Ventura counties.
Unfortunately for them, California seemed to be the divorce capital of
the world. They had over 15,000 records to sift through.

After repeated attempts to concentrate on the list she had in front of
her, she finally gave up. Mulder was in the war room trying to narrow
down his profile. When she entered the room, Mulder’s back was to
her. He was sitting behind the table facing the wall.

She stood for a few minutes watching him. Autopsy reports were
spread across the table. It looked as if he had been writing some
notes on the legal pad in front of him, before deciding to focus on the
photographs.

She jumped as he called her name. “Scully.” He hadn’t moved since
she entered the room, and he did not turn when he addressed her.

“Mulder.” She felt the waves of his weariness wash over her. He’d
been in this room most of the day. He knew his current profile wasn’t
enough to identify the UNSUB.

“He’s already picked the next victims.” He turned away from the wall
and caught her eyes with his.

“You don’t know that, Mulder.”

“I do know, Scully.” His head lowered and he caught sight of the
autopsy photos spread in gruesome display before him. “He’s
escalating. The Hunts were almost a year ago. The Harris’s 4
months after that. And the Sandersons just over 2 months after that.”
Mulder’s shoulders were drawn together tight. Hies wes were shut.

“The Lassiters were just a week ago. He’ll have picked a new couple
by now. He needs to spend time making sure he’s chosen correctly.
He needs to plan the night. He’s not an impulse killer.

“He plans everything out. You said it yourself. The killings were
ritualized. He needs to do things a certain way. He believes that
there is some sort of higher purpose behind his actions.” Mulder’s
jaw clenched, and his fist hit the table with a loud bang. “God
dammit!” His voice lowered to a barely audible whisper. nee need to
figure out what he thinks that purpose is."


‘Oh, Mulder,’ Scully thought. She sat down at the table so that she
was facing him. He was still sitting with his head bent and his eyes
shut. Briefly, she touched the back of his hand, getting his attention.
When he looked up she said, “Even if you’re right, it still gives us time.
He still needs to plan it. an san still catch him before he tries again.”

She studied him as she spoke. His hair was mussed, creating a
spiked outline around his face. His jacket was off and hanging on the
back of his chair. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to past his elbow.
His collar was unbuttoned and his tie was nowhere to be seen. His
haggard look was completed by the faint stubble accompanying his
usual 5 o’clock shadow.

“One week. Two at the most.”

They sat for several minutes not speaking. The quiet hum of the
central heatingt fit filled the room.

Finally, Scully stood. “Let’s go Mulder. I need food, and you need a
shave.”

Mulder’s eyebrows gave a half-hearted waggle. “Why, Scully? Afraid
I’ll give your delicate skin a rash?”

Although all he saw were the dark auburn strands covering the back
of her head, Mulder could definitely feel her eyes rolling. He grinned.

***

Motel 6, Room 143
Santa Barbara, CA
January 3, 2003 1:17 AM PST

“Mulder, you need to eat something.” Scully was sitting cross-legged
on her bed eating a slice of pizza. The great thing about college
towns was that they delivered at practically any time day or night.

“I told you, Scully, I’m not hungry.” He’d spent most of the day going
over the autopsy reports and studying each crime scene photo, so
that he could recall even the smallest detail at whim. He still felt a bit
queasy and he really didn’t think he could stomach anything at the
moment.

“Fine. You can bring the leftovers to your room. Maybe Jon will eat
them when he gets back.”

“Do you think he’s trying to impress me or what?”

“Maybe. I’m sure he’s heard of your solve rate, in and out of the ISU.”
She pursed her lips in thought. “Maybe he’s just afflicted with the
same intensity that all of you ISU members seem to have.”

“It’s hard, Scully. Once we’re on a case. Once the profile’s started.
We know inch by inch we’re getting closer. We know what will
happen if we’re not fast enough. Good enough.” His right hand
clasped his left. His right thumb rubbed rhythmically over his last
knuckle as he spoke. “If I can’t find him in time...if my profile is
wrong...more dead bodies. More victims.”

“I know, Mulder. I know.” She threw her half eaten slice of pizza into
the trash bin by her bed. “I think it’s time we got some rest. Why don’t
you go back to your room and get some sleep? I’m going to go brush
my teeth.” She was up and walking toward the small bathroom.

“Okay, Scully. I’m just going to re-read the first time interviews one
last time. I’ll be gone before you get back.”

“Okay, Mulder. Goodnight.”

“G’night, Scully.”

***

“Gone before I get back, huh?” she whispered to herself. Mulder was
laying stretched across the spare bed, his mouth partially open, his
breathing rhythmic. The open case file folder was still clasped in his
right hand.

‘Well, at least he’s not drooling,’ she thought with a smile.

Her faint smile faded as she realized that this was probably the only
sleep he would get tonight. He hardly ever slept for more than two or
three hours at a time. And if she woke him to return to his own room,
she knew that he would not lie down again.

He was exhausted, and she doubted he would get any better until this
case was over. She reached across to her bed and pulled the cover
off. Carefully, she draped it over her sleeping partner, pulling away
the case file and tucking him in like a child.

‘I’ll just stay up and finish typing up my field notes. He should be
awake by then.’ She sat on her bed and pulled her laptop close.

Two and half hours later, Mulder woke with a jerk. He sat bolt upright
on the bed and looked around in confusion. Across the way he saw
Scully. She was lying on her side atop the covers, with her laptop
open next to her. He smiled.

Quietly, he stood, bingbing her laptop and notes and placing thn
n
the small table by the window. He then grabbed her cover and
returned the favor of tucking his partner in for the night. Carefully, so
as not to wake her, he placed a quick and gentle kiss on her forehead
before straightening and heading toward his own room.

***

Motel 6, Room 142
Santa Barbara, CA
January 3, 2003 3:51 AM PST

As he pulled the connecting door open he heard movement to his
right. Jon was just coming out of the bathroom.

“Sir.” Jon looked quickly away as heat began to infuse his face.

‘Shit, figures.’ Mulder thought.

“Jon.” Mulder nodded at him. “Just getting in?”

“No, sir. I’ve been back for almost an hour. I was just about to try to
get some sleep.”

Engle was looking everywhere but at him. His face had turned a fiery
red and it was clear that he was uncomfortable.

“Jon. I told you before. My partner and I tend to work as needed.
We aren’t used to considering what time it is.”

“Of course, sir.” He was a rookie, not an idiot, Engle thought. Mulder
had been in Scully’s room all night. His shirt was rumpled and he was
sporting a bad case of bed head.

‘Dammit! I am not going to sit here and explain myself to some
ie!’ie!’ Mulder moved across to his bed, and rooted around
underneath for his running shoes.

“I’m going for a run.” He was up out out the door before Jon could
respond.

***

Mulder could feel his quads burning. He probably should have
stretched out more before starting, but he hadn’t been in the mood.

Dammit! Why did this always have to happen? He didn’t care much
what Engle thought of him, but Scully didn’t deserve to be sullied just
for being his partner. He hadn’t allowed himself to really believe that
Engle would let the rumors color his opinions.

For a second he had hoped…but…he shook his head and turned the
corner.

He didn’t see anything except for the car’s bright headlights before he
was thrown across the street and into unconscious oblivion.