“Hey.”
Mulder came through the door, dropped his coat onto the back of his chair. “Listen, I’ve been thinking about that Louisiana thing.”
Dana shook her head. “Mulder—”
He dropped into his chair, swiveled it around to face her, and tented his fingers beneath his chin. “Not that I think it’s really going to be as bizarre as the mighty Douglas thinks it is, but I’ve been looking through the folder, see…” He reached over to the shelf without looking. “I think what they’ve got there is a—”
“Mulder—”
He frowned, kicked the chair around, and began slapping papers aside. “Damn, I swore I left it here last night. Maybe Webber took it. That guy’s so gung-ho, he makes me nervous.”
Dana closed her eyes briefly to summon patience, then tapped him on the shoulder. Hard. “Mulder, pay attention.”
“What? What?” He didn’t look around. “Maybe I filed it.” He shuddered. “God, what a thought.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters. Do you think I’d actually…” He fell silent and slowly turned to look at her. “You have news.”
With a look to the ceiling, she thought thank you before pushing a hand absently at her hair. “In the first place, I do not appreciate your leaving me alone with that human octopus. I swear to God he has hands growing out of his ears.”
At least he had the grace to look contrite. “Sorry. Douglas had the appointment already set up. I had no choice.”
When she heard what the Section Head had to say, she told him she had already been briefed. The man had caught her in the hall on the way to Mulder’s office.
“But that doesn’t make any difference right now.”
He was startled. “What do you mean?”
“Table that for a minute. What I want from you now is your word that you’ll never, ever leave me alone with that reporter again.” She shuddered to prove her point. “I am a doctor, Mulder. I know secret doctor things. If I’m forced to, if he lays one more paw on me, I swear I’m going to make sure he never touches another woman again.”
Mulder held up a hand. “Okay, okay. I didn’t think he’d be that bad. Honest.” He frowned. “I guess this thing about his cousin’s boyfriend shook him up more than I thought.”
Angrily she told him that was no excuse. It was perhaps understandable, but it was still no excuse. When he apologized again, she allowed herself a moment to calm down, then took the other chair and hauled her briefcase onto her lap.
“What’s the other news?” he wanted to know, eyeing the case suspiciously.
“Good news and bad news, actually.”
He stared at her for so long, she thought he hadn’t heard. Then he slumped a little in resignation and gave her his full attention.
“The good news is, you don’t have to go to Louisiana. You can’t find the file because Bette took it back just a few minutes ago.”
He barely reacted, little more than a blink.
“The other good news is, you’re still stuck with me.”
A lopsided smile flared and vanished. “The bad news is,” he said dryly, “we’re going to North Dakota, no bathrooms, and we have to live in a tent.”
“Not quite.” If it wasn’t so infuriating, this whole thing would have been laughable. “Actually, it’s New Jersey.”
“What?”
She looked up without raising her head. “New Jersey.”
He frowned his puzzlement. “Why New Jersey? What—” His eyes widened in dismay. “Oh, God, Scully, please, not the Invisible Man.”
She unsnapped the briefcase flaps and pulled out a folder marked with a red tab, set the case on the floor and the folder on her lap. She flipped it open and picked up the top sheet. Only then did she nod, and waited patiently until he had stopped muttering to himself and grunted for her to continue.
“The—”
“Hold it,” he said. “Wait a minute. What changed the mighty Douglas’ mind? Yesterday it was disappearing clowns, today it’s Claude Rains. I don’t get it. Does he really think this is an X-File?”
Scully smiled. “I don’t know. But it seems your friend has a friend.”
“Carl? The sports reporter Carl?” He didn’t believe it. “Carl Barelli has friends in high places?” He shook his head slowly; wonders never ceased.
“Not quite,” she admitted. “Angie Tonero, his cousin, has a brother. The one who tried to dismember her soon-to-be boyfriend, remember? The brother’s name is Major Joseph Tonero. Air Force. Temporarily attached to Medical. You’ll never guess where he’s currently stationed.”
Mulder didn’t bother. His expression was enough; he knew that McGuire Air Force Base was adjacent to Fort Dix. “And Major Tonero is…?”
“Apparently, a very good, dear, close personal friend of the Garden State’s junior United States senator, John Carmen.”
Mulder clearly couldn’t decide whether to be amused or angry, and at the moment she wasn’t inclined to give him a hand. She only nodded when he said, “Whose office just happened to call the Director, right? Probably in the middle of the night. Probably causing the Director to be not all that happy, which means that when he called the mighty Douglas, our supposedly temporary Section Head lost a lot of sleep. Which, I suppose, means he’s really pissed off.”
“To put it mildly.” She fussed with her skirt, her hair again. “Now, granted, we’re not supposed to be at the beck and call of individual members of Congress, but there are budgets and there are appropriations. And the senator is a ranking member of a couple of pretty important committees.”
“I love this town,” Mulder groused.
She handed over the paper. “This is the report on Frank Ulman.”
He took it; he didn’t look at it until she stared him into it. When he was finished, no more than a cursory glance at best, she handed him the second one.
“So what’s this?” he asked, barely giving it a glance as well. “A second opinion or something?”
“No. And if you’d just look instead of griping…”
He did as he was told as he gave her his best martyr’s sigh, and she only just managed not to laugh when he sat up so quickly he nearly slid off the chair. “Scully…” He read the papers carefully, one hand pushing through his hair.
“Right,” she said. “Two killings. One week apart. Saturday night, early Sunday morning. Each victim with a slashed throat, no other injuries, no indication of robbery or sexual assault. That wouldn’t necessarily make them connected, except for the fact that now it seems there was a witness to the first murder too.”
Mulder’s lips moved as he read the second sheet more carefully. “Another Invisible Man?”
“Could be.”
“Or the same one.”
“Could be.”
“This first guy”—he checked the report—“Pierce, he was drunk. So was the witness.”
“No question.”
He compared the reports again. “And the second witness, to Frank’s murder, she was drunk, too. And… drugs?”
“That’s right. Heroin.”
She saw the look, saw the slight quickening of his movements.
“So…” He closed one eye, and his lips twitched into a faint smile. “So … maybe.”
“Could be.”
“Scully,” he said, “I give up, all right? You’ve made your point about Barelli. Several times, in fact.” He reached for the folder.
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
The frown returned. “What is this? I’m being tortured because I wouldn’t look at the slides of your trip? You want me to personally break Carl’s arms?”