~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

UNIVERSAL INVARIANTS

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

by syntax6

Chapter Six: Deeper by the Dozen

The midday sun blazed away in the sky, but Mulder stood 
tucked away under a cluster of pine trees.  He peeped 
through the branches at Scully, who sat out in the open on 
a bench near the park entrance.

At this distance, she might have been a college student 
waiting for a date instead of an FBI agent anticipating a 
possible murderer.  Her jacket lay beside her.  She had 
pulled her hair back into a ponytail and undone the top two 
buttons on her shirt.

Her legs were crossed, her back against the bench, feigning 
casualness.  But Mulder saw her check her watch for the 
fourth time in two minutes. 

He dug out his phone.  "At the tone, the time will be 
twelve-oh-six," he said when she answered.

Scully shaded her eyes and looked in his direction.

"Stop that," Mulder ordered.  "He'll know I'm here."

"He's not here to notice," Scully replied, but she returned 
to studying her nails.  "I don't think this worked, 
Mulder."

"Even if he doesn't show, that will tell us something.  I'm 
not ready to give up yet.  Maybe he hit traffic."  Mulder 
slapped at a bug that landed on the back of his neck.

Scully glanced at the entrance again.  "I'm still not sure 
what you want me to say to him.  We don't know he had any 
secret with Patty."

"If he shows, you know he's got a secret.  That gives you 
the upper hand.  Just keep him talking."

"How?"

Mulder rolled his eyes and paced around the tiny thicket.  
"Jeez, Scully, didn't you ever try to keep a cute guy 
talking at a party?  It's the same skill."

He could hear her lick her lips.  "Maybe you should be the 
one out here, Mulder."

"I can't. He knows me. Thanks to Ethan, the whole city 
knows me."

Across the way, Scully ducked her head.  He thought it was 
a response to his barb, but then she said, "It's almost ten 
past now."

"Relax.  I still think he'll show."

Scully gave an annoyed sigh.  "If I were meeting an 
extortionist who knew a dangerous secret about me, I would 
make it a point to be on time."

Mulder grinned.  "I'm sure you would, Scully."  He toyed 
with the idea of asking her what the dangerous secret would 
be, but at that moment, Scully sat up straight and froze.

"He's here," she whispered.

Mulder saw Coach Dave Matlock hovering just outside the 
entrance.  "Leave the phone on," Mulder instructed, "so I 
can hear."

Scully tucked it loosely under her jacket.  Dave Matlock 
entered the park and halted on the path. He took off his 
sunglasses and scanned his surroundings, his gaze coming to 
rest on Scully.  He stared at her a long time, as if he 
couldn't believe this was the person who called him.

Mulder held his breath, afraid she'd been made.

After what seemed like an eternity, Matlock advanced toward 
the bench.  He was tan and lean, looking much younger than 
his fifty-seven years.  An '88 Olympic T-shirt was 
stretched across his chest.  He could probably snap Scully 
in half if he wanted.

Matlock took a seat on the other end of the bench.  Mulder 
pressed his cell phone tight against his ear to try to make 
out what the man was saying.

"You the one who called me?" Matlock asked.

Scully kept her gaze focused straight ahead, but Mulder 
noticed her foot swinging.  "That's right."  She did not 
say anything further, allowing the silence to stretch, and 
eventually Matlock snapped.

"Just what the hell do you want, anyway?"

"I told you.  I know about you and Patty."

"Screw this," Matlock muttered.  He stood up.  "There's 
nothing to know."

He started to walk away, but Scully called after him.  "I 
know how she hurt her arm!"

Matlock stopped and turned around slowly.  "How do you know 
Patty?"

"Never mind how I know."

Matlock looked Scully up and down.  "I think you're a 
liar."

"From church," Scully hedged.  "I know her from church."

Matlock glanced at the exit, apparently weighing his 
options.  He took his seat on the bench again.  "So she 
hurt her arm," he said.  "Big deal."

"It would be a big deal to the police."  When Matlock 
didn't say anything, Scully pressed further.  "They know 
how hard you drive those girls.  If you think they aren't 
taking a good look at you right now, you're crazy."

"I wasn't anywhere near Patty that afternoon!  The cops 
know it.  They cleared me straight away."

Scully chuffed.  "That's what you think."

Matlock grabbed her arm.  Mulder's pulse picked up.  The 
park wasn't deserted, but it wasn't exactly crowded either.  
No one was around at the moment.  

"I don't have time for this," Matlock growled.  "Tell me 
who you are and what you want, or I'm leaving."

"We're here because of what you want," Scully answered.  
"You want me to keep my mouth shut.  The cops are 
questioning everyone who saw Patty in church that morning.  
They'll get to me eventually."

"And you'll tell them what?"

Scully shrugged.  "That's up to you."

"You want -- what, money?  I don't have money."

"Then I guess we don't have anything to talk about."  
Scully moved to grab her coat and purse.  Matlock stopped 
her.

"Wait just a goddamn second.  Let's talk about this.  You 
asked for this meeting, remember?"

"That's when I thought you were ready to deal."

"Maybe I will deal," Matlock said.  Mulder watched him wipe 
sweat from his brow.  

Scully settled back on the bench.  "How much?"

"Nothing," Matlock replied, and Scully started to get up 
again.  He grabbed her again with lightning quick reflexes.  
"Nothing until I hear *exactly* what it is you know.  I 
want to hear what I'm buying."

"Shit," Mulder muttered.  Silence ticked away on the other 
end of the phone.

"I know what happened to Patty wasn't an accident," Scully 
said at last.

Mulder spread the branches to get a good look at Matlock's 
reaction.  He did not look happy.

"Go on," he ordered.

"That should be enough," Scully replied.

"Not for me.  Go on."

Scully hesitated.  Mulder caught her looking at him as if 
for guidance.  He had none to give.

"She was at the gym with you," Scully said.  "Her routine 
was off.  She was tired and wanted to stop.  You said go 
again, but Patty refused.  You got a little rough."

Matlock barked a humorless laugh.  He released Scully and 
wiped his face with the front of his T-shirt.  "You're a 
lying sack of shit," he said.  "And this conversation is 
over.  Don't ever contact me again, you hear?  Or I'll be 
the one talking to the police."

He stalked off alone.  Scully's shoulders slumped and she 
dug out the phone.  "Did you get all that?"

"Yeah, I heard."  Mulder climbed out from behind the trees.  
"You did good, Scully."

He turned off the phone as he reached her.  "He was a 
nervous wreck at first," Scully said.  "You were right, 
Mulder.  He's hiding something. I just guessed the wrong 
secret."

"You had no choice.  He backed you into a corner."

"Patty's arm wasn't an accident, and he knows it."

"Yeah."  The sun was frying his scalp.  "We'll just have to 
find another way to get it out of him.  Let's get out of 
here."  He stuck out his hand to her.  She accepted, her 
small hand amazingly still cool in the summer heat, and he 
tugged her to her feet.

Mulder was putting on his sunglasses when Scully froze.  
She was staring intently at the park entrance.  Mulder 
looked too.  "What?" he asked.

"I know that van," she replied, sounding disgusted.  

For the first time, Mulder noted a battered gray van parked 
across the street.  The lower part of the side panel had 
rusted out, and it was missing the right rear hubcap. 

"Wait here," Scully said, starting for the van.  Mulder 
followed close on her heels.

As they got closer, Mulder could see there were people in 
the front seat.  Ethan, he realized.  And the woman with 
the camera. 

Ethan rolled down the window as Scully jogged through 
traffic to cross the street.  "I can explain," he was 
saying when Mulder caught up.

"I can't believe you," Scully replied.  "What the hell are 
you doing following us?"

"I wasn't following you.  I was following Matlock."

Scully yanked his door open.  "I want to talk to you alone.  
Now."

Both Ethan and the woman got out of the car.  "Dana, I'm 
telling you the truth."  Ethan followed Scully away from 
the car.

The woman came around the front, squinting in the sun.  She 
was the only one dressed for the weather, with jean shorts 
and a red tank top.  A diamond-studded "M" glittered at her 
neck.  She reminded Mulder of Angela Burton, a girl he'd 
messed around with in eleventh grade.

"I'm Melinda," she said as she stuck out her hand.  
"Usually you can't see me because I'm hidden behind a 
camera."

"Mulder," Mulder said, shaking her hand.  "But then you 
knew that already."  He risked a glance down the street, 
where Ethan was gesticulating and Scully stood with her 
arms folded.

"Looks like Ethan will be sleeping on the couch tonight," 
Melinda remarked.

Mulder tilted his head.  "Were you guys really following 
Matlock?"

"Every damn day to the gym and back."  She reached in 
through the open van window and hauled out a camera.  "I've 
got the tape to prove it."

"Anything interesting?"

"Not especially.  The guy's really into his gymnastics."  
She put the camera on her hip and stroked the top of it.  
"You know, you should be in pictures.  The camera loves 
you."

"Does it?" Mulder asked, amused.  "That's good to know.  
Maybe I should ask it out sometime."

Melinda grinned.  "Oh, I think you should.  But before you 
do, I think I should warn you: I always have to chaperone.  
The camera's expensive, you see.  I'm not supposed to let 
it out of my sight."

"A woman who takes a video camera on all her dates," Mulder 
said.  "Kinky."

Melinda took a step closer and looked up at him from under 
dark lashes.  "Believe me, it is.  I have the tape to prove 
that too."

~*~*~

"I told you to stay away from this case," Scully said.  
They were standing outside of a Starbucks, and the strong 
smell of coffee was making it hard for her to concentrate.  
She hadn't eaten anything in hours.

"You told me to stay away from Mulder and I have," Ethan 
protested.  "How was I supposed to know where Matlock was 
headed?"

"Don't tell me you filmed the whole meeting."

"Not all of it."  Ethan put his hands on his hips and 
sighed.  "This is a huge story, Dana.  I have to follow it.  
You know that."

"If you put that on the news tonight..."  She broke off and 
looked down at Mulder.  He was laughing at something 
Melinda said.  Scully turned back and looked Ethan in the 
eyes.  "You may as well not come home."

"Cross my heart," he said, backing it up with an "X" over 
his chest.  "I'm just gathering information right now.  I 
don't have anything worth putting on the air anyway."

Scully scuffed her heel on the sidewalk, not ready to 
forgive.  "How long have you been following him?"

"On and off for three days.  He spends most of his time at 
the gym with the girls.  Really just a boring old guy if 
you ask me."

Scully's ears tingled.  She had known Ethan long enough to 
recognize the illogic of his last remarks.  "Cut the crap, 
Ethan.  You wouldn't still be following him if he were just 
a boring old guy."

Ethan hesitated, and Scully started to walk away.  "Okay, 
okay," he said, catching her arm.  "There is one thing.  
Two days ago Matlock visited a lawyer by the name of Arnold 
Laughlin. I checked -- Laughlin's a criminal lawyer."

"Really."

"I wondered what he was doing consulting a lawyer when the 
police had supposedly cleared him.  Then I find you and 
Mulder meeting him today and that just ups my suspicions 
even more."

If he was waiting for her to add her two cents, he was more 
naïve than she had thought.

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" she asked.

Ethan shrugged.  "You were away on that other case.  I 
wasn't sure you and Mulder were even still involved with 
the Patty Waeleski investigation.  Besides, what do I have?  
Nothing.  So he saw a lawyer.  So what?"

"You know very well so what."

"Yeah, well, what I know and you know is different from 
what we can prove.  Isn't that why you and Mulder arranged 
a little tete-a-tete with him out here the park?  I mean, 
correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think usual bureau 
protocol is to interrogate suspects in a park across town."

"It was a conversation, not an interrogation."

"Uh-huh. And what was the conversation about?  Our current 
heat wave?"

"You know I can't answer that."

"Yeah, I know."  He nudged her with his elbow.  "Come on, 
I'll buy you an iced latte."

"I still won't tell you."

He held the door for her.  Scully felt the welcome frost of 
A/C on "high" as she passed under his arm and into the 
café. "What if I throw in a biscotti?" Ethan asked.

"Let me get a look at the tape you shot and maybe we've got 
a deal," Scully said.  Ethan brightened and Scully turned. 
"If and when we make an arrest," she added.  "Think of it 
as a pending exclusive."

Ethan considered as they took their place in line.  "I can 
let you see the tape," he agreed.

"Great." She squeezed his hand.  "But I still want the 
biscotti."

~*~*~*~

That night in bed, Scully suppressed a yawn as she and 
Ethan surveyed the tapes of Coach Matlock. Ethan leaned 
over to kiss her bare shoulder.  "Told you they were 
boring," he murmured.

"Mmm.  Is this the part where he visited the lawyer?"

Ethan lifted his head from the pillow.  "Yup.  He was in 
there nearly an hour."

"Maybe they're friends," Scully said, but she did not 
really believe it.

"Laywers don't have friends."  Ethan kissed her arm again.  

Scully fast-forwarded the tape until it changed scene; this 
time Matlock was arguing with a slender girl in the parking 
lot outside his athletic facility.  "This is the third time 
he's talked to this girl," Scully said.  "She looks about 
Patty's age.  Who is she?"

"Hmm? Oh, that's Lindsey Beckwith.  She's the reigning 
national gymnastics champion and one of Matlock's 
favorites.  She's been with him since she was nine."

On the tape, Matlock said something harsh to Lindsey.  She 
covered her face with her hands.

"She doesn't look like his favorite," Scully said.

"Tough love is the only kind Matlock knows how to give.  
Last year at Nationals, Patty missed a landing off of the 
high beam and Matlock didn't talk to her for a week."

Scully stopped the tape and shifted to look at him.  "How 
do you know all this?"

"Melinda.  She follows all this gymnastics crap.  Her mom 
signed her up for classes when she was a kid, and she's 
been into it ever since."

"Huh," Scully said, and resume play on the tape.  "Maybe I 
should have a talk with Melinda then."

"Have Mulder do it."  Ethan stroked his fingers up and down 
Scully's arm.  "He's out with her on a date tonight."

"What?" Scully wrestled with the sheet and sat up. "What 
are you talking about?"

Ethan laughed and brushed aside the sheet that hand landed 
on his face.  "He asked her to dinner.  Last I saw her she 
was -- and I quote -- 'heading home to put on tall heels 
and a short skirt.'"

Scully opened her mouth and closed it again.  "Mulder 
didn't say anything to me."

"Maybe it's not his style to kiss and tell."  Ethan toyed 
with her fingers.

Scully jerked her hand away. "She asked him out or he asked 
her out?"

"I don't know. Does it matter?  It's not like she forced 
him at gunpoint."

"I know that." Scully leaned back on the pillows, her mind 
abuzz. Mulder on a date.  It was as hard to fathom as the 
UFOs he was always talking about.  "Did Melinda say where 
they were going?"

"Dinner.  That's all I know.  If you care so much, you can 
grill Mulder for the details in the morning."

Scully picked at the edge of the sheet.  "You're sure this 
was Melinda's idea and not yours."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Scully lifted one shoulder and did not look at him.  "You 
had no problem using me for information..."

"You think I would pimp my camera woman out to get a scoop?  
God, Dana, what kind of ruthless SOB do you think I am?"

"Forget I said anything."

"No, I won't forget it.  I can't believe you would even 
suggest such a thing.  You know Melinda.  She flirts with 
just about everything in a suit, and most of the time, they 
flirt right back.  Why should Mulder be any different?"

"I just..." She shook her head.  "Melinda didn't seem like 
she'd be Mulder's type.  That's all.  I was just a little 
surprised."

Ethan studied her.  "You mean jealous," he said after a 
moment.

Scully's jaw dropped.  "I'm not jealous."

"You are," he said.

"I'm not!  I just don't want to see him get hurt."

"You don't want to see him get laid," Ethan corrected.

The words put dangerous images in her head.  Scully 
swallowed.  "You're crazy.  I don't care who Mulder... I 
don't care what he does."

Ethan clutched a pillow and rolled around.  "You can't even 
say the words!"  He sounded more amused than alarmed. 

"I don't care who Mulder sleeps with," Scully said loudly.  
"There, are you happy now?"

"Oh, extremely.  Are you?"

"Delirious." She crossed her arms and sunk deeper into the 
pillows.

Ethan laughed and pulled her close.  "Don't worry," he said 
as he kissed her temple, "Melinda rarely puts out on the 
first date.  Mulder's virtue is safe for the night."

~*~*~*~*~

Melinda wore a red sundress with a low back, so his fingers 
brushed against bare skin as he ushered her through the 
restaurant doorway.  "I love Italian, but I've never been 
here," she said.

Mulder gave her credit for saying the exact right thing: 
agreeing with his selection while at the same time pointing 
out how he was broadening her experience.  Melinda clearly 
knew how to navigate a first date.  Mulder wondered if 
perhaps he had stepped in over his head.

"So it's really true that the FBI has a division devoted to 
solving paranormal mysteries?" she asked after they had 
ordered.

"I'd hardly call me and Scully 'a division.'  But yes, the 
Bureau does keep track of cases that have resisted solution 
by conventional investigation."

Melinda laughed. "Resisted solution by conventional 
investigation?  Is that code for the Bogey Man did it?"

"Let's put it this way: if the Bogey Man was piling up 
victims, we'd check him out."

"Can you give me a for instance?" Her dark eyes were wide 
in the candlelight.

Mulder told her a little bit about the Tooms case.  "So you 
see, it's not about eliminating traditional scientific 
evidence.  It's just a different way of looking at things."

"Wow," Melinda said.  "That would make some great TV."

"Good luck getting it on the air," Mulder told her.  
"I've found that the powers that be have an amazing 
ability to ignore anything that defies rational 
explanation."

"Ah, but seeing is believing.  If it's on TV, they 
can't deny it."

Mulder smiled and sipped his wine.  "Tell that to 
Scully.  Sometimes I think an extraterrestrial being 
could walk up and bite her on the butt, and she would 
still manage to deny it happened."

"Is that what they do?" Melinda's eyes were full of 
mischief.  "Bite people on the butt?"

"Only if they really want your attention," Mulder 
replied very seriously.  "Usually they just settle for 
a wedgie."

Melinda laughed.  "Okay, but tell me the truth now: 
have you really ever seen one?"

"A wedgie?  Sadly yes."

She kicked him lightly under the table.  "You know what 
I mean."

"No," Mulder replied, leaning back in his chair.  "I've 
never seen an extraterrestrial being."

"So then how come you're so convinced they're out 
there?"

Mulder shrugged and fingered his fork.  "I've seen 
other things -- things that no one has been able to 
give me a satisfying explanation for.  Until I get such 
an explanation, I'll just keep asking the questions."

A figure materialized at his elbow, and Mulder at first 
thought it was their waiter bringing dinner.  He looked 
up to find a plump woman with gray hair and a 
glittering evening gown standing there.  She had a 
small handbag slung over one wrist and what looked like 
a piece of paper clutched in her hand.  

"I'm so sorry to interrupt," she said, and bit her lip.  
"I saw you from across the room.  You're Agent Mulder 
from the FBI, isn't that right?"

"Yes, ma'am," Mulder replied, putting aside his napkin 
as he stood up. "Can I help you?"

"I saw you on television.  You're looking for Patty 
Waeleski."

For a second, Mulder's pulse flashed.  Possibly this 
woman could have a lead.  "That's right," he said.  "Do 
you know Patty?"

"I'm afraid I don't."  Her hand trembled.  "This is a 
picture of my daughter, Evelyn.  She went out to ride 
her bike after supper and never came home.  That was 
four years ago this September."

Mulder accepted the photo.  It showed a girl with a 
pointed chin and thick chestnut braids.  "I'm sorry," 
Mulder said.

"I just need to know what happened to her.  The police 
have stopped looking.  They don't return my phone 
calls.  I've put up signs.  I've held town meetings.  I 
just don't know what else to do.  Then I saw you on the 
news a few weeks ago, and here you are in the 
restaurant tonight.  I thought -- this has to be a 
sign.  Maybe that nice man from the FBI can help me."
 
Melinda was staring fixedly at her plate.  Mulder 
looked at the woman, who was looking back with washed-
out blue eyes.  "I'm sorry, Mrs.--"

"Gordon.  Teresa Gordon."

"Mrs. Gordon, I think the news program may have given 
you the wrong idea about me."

"They said you were the best," Mrs. Gordon protested, 
sounding desperate.  "They said if anyone could find 
Patty, it would be you."

"They're wrong," Mulder replied gently.  "I don't have 
any better chance of finding Patty than any other 
investigator on the case."

Mrs. Gordon's chin quivered, and she clamped her mouth 
shut.  "No one is investigating Evelyn's case anymore," 
she managed at last.  "What does that mean for her?"

"I can talk to the Missing Persons department at the 
FBI."

"I've done that!  They've given up too."

"No one gives up," Mulder said.  "I promise you.  It's 
just that new leads are extremely difficult to find 
once so much time has passed. I'll call them and ask 
them to take another look."

"I get it," Mrs. Gordon said, taking Evelyn's picture 
back from Mulder. "Evie's not a famous gymnast, so it's 
not worth your time.  Forget I said anything.  I'm 
sorry to have interrupted your dinner."

"Mrs. Gordon, please--"

The woman walked away stiffly.  Mulder stood staring 
after her for a long while.  He shook his head as he 
took his seat at last.  "You were saying," he said 
darkly to Melinda, "about the nature of truth on 
television."

"God, that was awful."  Melinda hugged her bare arms.  
"That poor woman.  There's really nothing you can do to 
help her?"

"I'll make the call to Missing Persons.  But four years 
is a long time for a little girl to go missing.  I 
don't have super powers.  I'm not a magician.  I got 
the same training that these other investigators got. 
It's not like I can go in and wave a magic wand and the 
case is solved. You put that stuff on TV, and you just 
give people like that false hope."

Melinda reached over and squeezed his hand.  "You think 
they're reacting to your case record or your fancy FBI 
title, but you're wrong. That woman was looking for 
someone like her, someone who won't ever give up."

"Then they should know the truth," Mulder said.  "That 
two years becomes ten, becomes twenty.  Don't kid 
yourself.  I give up plenty."

~*~

After dinner and dessert, Mulder walked Melinda to the 
door of her apartment building.  The streetlamp 
flickered off, leaving them face-to-face in the 
darkness.  She took his hand.  "I had a really nice 
time."

Mulder gave a half-smile and looked away.

"I did," she insisted.  She paused.  "I ran away once, 
you know."  That got his attention again.  He looked 
down at her in the slim light.  She nodded at him.  "I 
was fourteen and my parents had just split up.  My dad 
moved across the country and my mom and I fought all 
the time.  I thought if I could go find my dad, life 
would magically get better.  So one night I just walked 
out the front door and kept going."

"What happened?"

"I couldn't figure out how to get a bus out of town," 
she replied, looking sheepish.  "I rode around all 
night, changing buses, but they kept taking me back 
into the city.  Around dawn I got off and fell asleep 
on a park bench.  A cop woke me up later.  My mom had 
found me missing and freaked out."

"No big adventure, then," Mulder said.

"I'd had enough anyway.  Besides, I got what I wanted."

"Which was?"

"Someone to come after me."  She stood on tiptoe and 
kissed his cheek. "Good night, Agent Mulder."

~*~*~*

Mulder was apparently celebrating his date with a box 
full of powdered donuts.  Scully stood in the doorway 
of the office, watching while he studied one.

"Hey," he said when he noticed her.  He held the donut 
up to one eye and peered at her through the hole.  
"Check out this donut. It's perfectly round, like a 
spare tire.  I've never seen one so symmetric before."

Scully walked in and set her briefcase on a chair.  
"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with your 
food, Mulder?"

He waggled his fingers through the hole in a vaguely 
obscene gesture. "How do you suppose they made it?  The 
other ones in the box aren't nearly as perfect."

"I'm sure I don't know."

"Come on, Scully.  You took physics.  Don't tell me 
there wasn't a chapter on donuts."

She frowned.  "I must have been absent on the day we 
covered baked goods."  

He wore a smear of white powder over his lip like a 
drunken moustache. Scully tried not to look directly at 
it, because when she did, she could taste the sugar on 
her tongue.  She cleared her throat.

"So is this our focus for the day, Mulder?  Unsolved 
donut mysteries?"

He shoved the magical donut in his mouth and took a 
large bite.  "Workfast, Scully.  The evidence is 
disappearing." 

Scully selected a donut from the box, pinching it 
delicately and holding it away from her dark suit as 
she took a careful bite.  Mulder, watching her efforts, 
rubbed the powdered sugar from his tie.

"The donuts are for Willie," he explained.  "I asked 
him to come by to talk about the Waeleski case."

"Willie Holcomb?"

Mulder looked surprised.  "You know Willie?"

"Ethan did a story on him last year.  I met him at a 
dinner last spring." Scully finished her donut and 
dusted off her fingers.

"Ethan gets around," Mulder muttered.

Scully ignored him.  "I don't see what you expect 
Willie Holcomb to contribute to this case, Mulder.  
He's not a credentialed investigator. And not to point 
out the obvious, but he's blind."

"Which is exactly why he brings a different 
perspective," Mulder said as he got up from the desk.  
He came around and perched next to her. 
"Give him a chance."

"I thought you wanted to sweat Coach Matlock."

"I want to find Patty Waeleski."  He shifted.  "You 
have donut juice on your chin."

"Donut juice?"  She rubbed her chin.

"That's what Samantha always called it."  He watched 
her for a moment, looking amused.  "No, to the left.  
The other left."  At last, he reached over.  "Here."

He cradled her jaw in his hand as his thumb swept under 
her lower lip. Scully held her breath.  "Mulder..."

"Hmm?" He was looking at her mouth, thumb paused 
against her cheek.

"You--it's on your lip, too."

He was still touching her.  "Hmm?"

"The...donut juice."  She brought her hand up, 
intending to give him a quick, efficient brush.  He 
turned his head at the last second and his lips 
collided with her fingers.  Scully drew back as if 
burned.

"Hello?" Willie Holcomb tapped his cane against the 
open door.  "You in here, Mulder?"

"Hey, Willie."  Mulder jumped off the desk in a hurry.  
"Come on in."

Willie grinned.  "Wasn't sure if I was interrupting.  
When I hear bodies in the room and no talking, I 
usually keep right on going --unless it's the library."  
He turned in the direction of Scully.  "And the other 
body would be?"

"Dana Scully," she said, taking his hand.  "We met a 
few weeks ago."

"Of course."  He clasped her warmly.  "You're Ethan's 
lady friend.  You didn't tell me you worked with Mulder."

"I'm the skeleton in Scully's closet," Mulder said.  "Never 
a black mark on her record until she got partnered with 
me."

Scully shot Mulder a dirty look, but Holcomb threw back his 
head and laughed.  "So you're a kept man now, eh?  'Bout 
time.  You've been down here by your lonesome far too 
long."

"I did okay," Mulder protested.

"Hey, do I smell donuts?"  Holcomb sniffed the air.

"Your standard dozen," Mulder said as he pulled the box 
across to the desk.  

Holcomb hefted the box as he took a seat.  "Feels a little 
light for a dozen."

"I tested them for quality," Mulder replied.

"Must've been some test."

Scully hid a smile.  Mulder grinned.  "Nothing but the best 
for you, Willie."

Holcomb took a bite of donut.  "So I understand you want to 
talk to me about that poor missing girl."

"Patty Waeleski," Mulder agreed.  "She's been gone for over 
two months now, and we're looking for anything new that 
might help us figure out what happened to her."  He told 
Holcomb about the videotape from the CD store where Patty 
was last seen.

"Describe it to me," Holcomb said, "and don't leave 
anything out."

Mulder cued up the tape on the VCR and described Patty's 
last known minutes moment-by-moment.  Scully watched as the 
girl turned for the millionth time and walked off the 
screen.

"That's it," Mulder said.

Holcomb looked thoughtful.  "I want to go there," he said 
at last.  "See it for myself."

Mulder and Scully accompanied Willie to the used CD store.  
Music was blaring over the speakers, but few customers 
browsed around in the bins.  Behind the counter, a young 
man looked up briefly from his comic book as they entered.

"Is this what it was like that day?" Holcomb asked as he 
began tapping his way around the store. 

"Much more crowded," Mulder said. "It was the weekend."

Holcomb nodded and walked off to the left.  "You say she 
was standing over here?"

"That's right."  

Scully trailed behind. When she was a child, she'd had to 
pass in front of a ramshackle house rumored to be haunted.  
Overgrown weeds and a large, rotting tree blocked the view 
of the front door. Shutters hid all the windows except for 
a small round one in the attic.  Two children died there, 
Bill had told her.  Killed by a witch who watched from the 
attic window, waiting for more.

Scully had kept her head down and hurried past the old 
house.  Walking around the CD store, she had the same 
creeping sense of dread.  She had not been inside before, 
only seen the images on the tape over and over again.  

Standing now where Patty had stood, it all became very 
real.

Holcomb's hands grazed the bin with the Beatles albums.  "I 
don't think he meant to snatch her," he murmured at last.

Scully raised her eyebrows.  "Excuse me?"

"On the tape, you said it seemed like he called to her from 
off camera."

"That's right," Mulder said, stepping forward.

"Camera range is how far back?"

Scully craned her head.  "About fifteen feet.  It misses 
the front door."

Holcomb nodded.  "That music is pretty loud.  You say there 
was a bunch of kids in here that day, would've been much 
louder.  He would've had to yell to get her attention, 
don't you think?"

"Seems reasonable," Mulder concurred.  He glanced at 
Scully, who nodded.

"Seems to me, you're thinking about grabbing the girl, 
you'd want to do it real quiet-like. Not be yelling your 
head off across a crowded store."

~*~*~

That night, Mulder had a different sort of date.

"Ahh," Willie said, wiping his mouth.  "Nothing better than 
a cold beer on a hot day."

"Yeah, well you earned it."  Mulder raised his own glass in 
appreciation.

"She ain't home yet."

"No, but we're getting close, right?"  Off Willie's look, 
Mulder asked, "What?"

Willie shook his head.  "I just hope you're prepared for 
what you find."

"You said yourself he didn't mean to take her that day," 
Mulder said.  "That means he didn't mean to kill her."

"He didn't mean to take her," Willie agreed.  "But he did."

Mulder took a long swig of beer.  "First we've got to find 
her.  I'll worry later about what comes after."

"I hope you do find her, man.  I really hope you do.  
Meantime, though, you might want to watch yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Willie shrugged.  "She's spoken for, man.  Scully."

"I know that.  Believe me, I'm not interested."

"So that's why you're always in her space, rubbing on her 
like some alley cat?  May as well hang a sign on the lady 
saying, 'Mine.'" 

"I do not rub Scully."

"I only know what I hear."

"For your information, I had a date last night."

"Yeah?" Willie sucked on his beer bottle.  "Who was this 
lucky lady?"

"Melinda McKenn."

Willie choked.  "The little thing who runs the camera for 
Ethan?"

"We had a very nice time."  Mulder realized he was sounding 
like teenager back from prom.

"Oh, I get it.  He's got your girl Friday, so you take 
his."

Mulder blinked.  "That's ridiculous."

"Playing with fire," Willie repeated, shaking his head.  
"Someone's going to get burned."

~*~*~*~*~*~

End Chapter Six.  Continued in Chapter Seven.

Many thanks to Amanda for proofing and for the chapter 
title.  Mulder may get naked yet!

Feedback makes my world go 'round: syn_tax6@yahoo.com