Disclaimers in Part 1. Part 02 of 11. Motel Rutherford, NJ 12:17 a.m. After stopping by the local drug store in search for some painkillers for Mulder and finding it closed, Scully returned to the motel with a pretty much zoned out Mulder. "C'mon," she said and gently shook his shoulder. In an action of half- leading/ half-carrying her six-foot partner back to the motel, Scully managed to unlock the door and step inside just before the rain started to fall. Sheets of gray rain pounded incessantly on the tin roof. After just a few seconds, it was beginning to give Scully a headache and she couldn't begin to imagine what Mulder was going through. He had collapsed on the bed, fortunately the one in his room, because Scully wasn't sure if she would be able to get him up anytime soon. She sat at the edge of his bed, a few wet tissues in hand, and dabbed at the cut on his head. She spoke softly. "This isn't as bad as I thought, no stitches. But we still have to be cautious with that concussion." He didn't respond to that. Louder, she said, "Mulder, think you can get out of your suit? Do you have anything... any sweats, maybe?" He gave a barely perceptible nod. Scully smiled and patted his hand. "I'll go look in your suitcase. Be right back." When she returned, he had his eyes clenched tightly shut, forehead scrunched against the headache. He was curled up, head thrown back, one hand held loosely onto his collar as if it had been trying to loosen it but had given up in the effort. Scully pushed his hand away, careful not to disturb him, and undid the knot in his tie. She managed to pull it off without him noticing but when it was time for the suit jacket to come off, she needed to move him. "Mulder," she whispered. "Mulder," she said a little louder. "C'mon, sit up for me." His eyes opened, he licked his lips and sat up, his movements slow and lethargic. Still moving slowly, he shrugged out of the suit jacket and messed with the buttons on his shirt. However, he was exhausted and some of his usual coordination was lost with the concussion so Scully ended up helping him with the rest of his clothing. When he was clad in black sweatpants and a gray FBI T-shirt and safely under the covers, Scully turned off the light by his bed. "Goodnight," she said, knowing he was already asleep. She began to walk backwards, watching him warily in the sliver of light coming from under the door, nervous about leaving him. Just as she reached the door, the light glinted on something in his hand. Scully moved back to the bed and found the source of attention; a small, golden bracelet, the one she had found by Mulder in the studio, held in his fist, loosened and relaxed with sleep. Carefully, she nudged apart his fist and pulled the bracelet out. her tired mind said. She pulled her sleeve over her hand and held the bracelet in it, as to not wipe away potential fingerprints on it. Then, returning to her room, she dropped the evidence in a plastic bag and went to bed for the second time that night. This time, she slept well. Motel 9:57 a.m. Scully had woken up early and dropped the bag with the bracelet off at the local crime lab to be examined for fingerprints. She was now sitting restlessly in her room, getting bored of the free HBO and waiting for Mulder to wake up. So far she'd watched the end of Ferris Beuller’s Day Off and most of Parenthood. She was laughing at Steve Martin in Parenthood when she heard a crash from the next room. Reaching for the remote, she turned down the volume a bit so she could hear better what was going on in the next room and waited for Mulder to appear at her door. When she heard nothing more after several minutes, she began to get worried. She turned off the TV. and walked through the door joining her and Mulder's room. She found him sprawled on the floor near his bed, hair sticking up in thirty-five different directions, looking confused. Scully knelt by him. "Hey. How you feeling?" Before he answered she noticed he was squinting. "Head hurts, huh? I'll go out and get you some pain killers in a couple minutes. Do you want some breakfast first?" He was staring at her face, still not fully awake, slow at answering, "Breakfast?" "Yeah, you want some?" His mouth turned in a frown. "Uh uh." Scully had stood and was trying to pull Mulder up with her. She succeeded and let him drop onto the bed then sat next to him. "Are you nauseous?" she asked gently. He swallowed sluggishly. "I dunno." "All right." Scully pushed him down. "Stay here, I'm going into town. I'll be back in a couple minutes." While she talked, Mulder had managed to lift his head, a difficult task, to see her better, but now he dropped it. "Why?" "To get you medicine." She was already out the door. The day was frigid. A light rain still fell, but nothing compared to the downpour of the previous night. Scully drove into town, picked up a package of extra-strength Tylenol, the strongest thing the drug store carried. Realizing she was close to the lab, she stopped by there too. A young man who reminded her a bit of Pendrell, even though his coloring was opposite, greeted her. "We got the results back, Agent Scully. There were three sets of fingerprints on the bracelet; Katherine Martin's, you partner's--" Scully interrupted him. "Agent Mulder found it yesterday. He was holding it and was in a situation where he didn't have gloves for proper--" "I understand." The lab technician smiled warmly. "But there was a third set of prints that..." He pulled out a sheet of paper with a picture of a young girl on it as well as several lines of information about her. "matched this. Her name is, I'm sorry, WAS, Joanna Wasserman. She lived in Texas--" "Why the past tense?" "Well," His eyes narrowed. "That's the thing. Joanna was killed in 1993 in a hit and run while she was visiting Rutherford." He frowned. "Nobody seemed too devastated by her death, not even the parents. She was something of a trouble maker." Scully extended a hand. "Can I have that sheet?" "Sure." He gave it to her. "One minute, uh...here." He had picked up a folder from the cluttered countertop. "This gives details on her death... as well as her LIFE. Joanna was... well, not an ordinary child. She caused alot of stir around Texas." Scully accepted it. "Thank you. I'll return this by tomorrow." "No, no." He waved it off. "Keep that as long as you want." A mischievous smile lit his face. "Actually, I've been interested in Joanna's death since the case came in years ago. We don't really have that many hit and runs around here. Hardly any. And when her fingerprints show up in THIS case, well..." Scully smiled. "Thank you," she said and left. Motel 10:31 a.m. Holding the information about Joanna in one hand, Scully opened her motel door with the other. She was greeted by complete silence, a silence that worried her a little. She dropped Joanna's file on her dresser, grabbed her medical bag and the Tylenol she had bought at the drug store and headed into Mulder's room, not even pausing to knock. She found Mulder sitting up in bed, his glasses on, his journal sitting face down on his lap. A pen was in his hand, indicating Mulder had tried to write something, but Scully doubted he succeeded. Even now, his eyes weren't focused, something Scully knew Mulder could do to zone out when the pain got bad. "Mulder," Scully said gently, taking the pen out of his hand. Mulder blinked and swallowed, turning his head slightly toward Scully. But as soon as he turned, he shut his eyes against the pain of the movement. thought Scully as she watched him. Mulder opened his eyes and looked at her. "You were gone more than a few minutes," he said, and Scully was glad he wasn't as confused as he had been a hour ago. "Well, I stopped by the lab to pick up the bracelet I found in your hand last night. I had it dusted for fingerprints." Mulder squinted again and Scully got out her penlight. "I remember that bracelet," Mulder said slowly, "It looked like the one I saw Katie wearing." Scully shined the light into Mulder's eyes. He closed them against the light. "No, just stay still," she said, and he opened his eyes again. "The one and only. It had her fingerprints and yours all over it." She shut off the light, satisfied with what she saw. "Sorry about that," Mulder said sheepishly. "It's okay, Mulder. I understand. Follow my finger," she said, holding one finger in front of Mulder's eyes, and moving it back and forth. She took her finger down. "Good," she said shortly. "Is that all you found out from the bracelet?" Mulder asked. He was interested in discovering why it was there. Scully, who had been opening the Tylenol bottle, stopped. "Well, there was something else," she said carefully. "What?" "There was another set of fingerprints on the bracelet. A Joanna Wasserman's." Scully paused and looked thoughtful. "And?" "And, the thing is Joanna was a resident of Texas who did visit Rutherford." "Why the past tense Scully?" Mulder forgot the pain in his head for a second and just waited for Scully's answer. "The past tense, because she was killed in 1993 in a hit-and-run. I have the police report as well as a record of Joanna's life in my room. She was twelve years old when she died." The last sentence peaked something in Mulder's mind. "Just like Katie," he said thinking. "Can I see those reports, Scully?" He straightened up more, but grimaced when he moved his head. Scully went back to opening the Tylenol bottle. "Maybe you should wait awhile, Mulder. I mean, you can't move your head without pain, never mind reading small print. I know you tried writing before. From the looks of it you weren't successful." Mulder looked down at the book on his lap. "Yeah, well....." "I thought so." She handed him two pills. "Tylenol is the strongest thing they had without prescription. I'll get you some water." She went into the bathroom and reappeared a minute later with a glass of water. Mulder eyed the pills. "Without prescription?" he repeated, looking up at her. "Mulder, you have had enough concussions to know that you can't get any pain killers stronger than that because it could mask the symptoms of a serious head injury, even if I did write a prescription." Mulder sighed. He had already known that. "Okay," he said simply and downed both pills. Scully sat on the edge on the bed. "You must be really hurting if you are asking for a stronger pain killer," she said, gently, looking at him concerned. Mulder saw the look of concern. "Scully, I'm fine. Just a headache." "I'm sure it was just a headache when you fell out of bed this morning and could hardly remember your name," she said, not believing him for a second. Mulder just glared at her. She took the glass from him and put it on the nightstand. "How about just resting a little while longer, then I will let you see those files. You can't think with that headache now anyway." Mulder nodded. He remembered how he tried to write some case details into his journal, but how the words just swam in front of his eyes. Scully was right, maybe in a little while. But just a little while, because Mulder knew he had a theory in the still fuzzy brain of his. He just needed to put it together. Motel 12:24 p.m. Scully frowned as she glanced at the information once again. But it didn't change. "Twelve-year-old responsible for school fire," she read from a newspaper clipping that had been included with Joanna's file. "Twelve-year-old Joanna Wasserman reportedly admitted to being involved in the fire that burned Kendlebridge Middle School to the ground last week. The fire was a four alarm blaze, ripping through the building in seconds, injuring over 50 and killing 2, a teacher, Kerry Brooks, 32, and a student, Pete Robinson, 12." Scully took her glasses off and put the article down. She found it highly unlikely that a twelve-year old could be responsible, single- handedly, for such a huge fire. But it was in black-and-white, and this was not the only incident that Joanna had been linked to. Scully had read through half a dozen other articles that Joanna was mentioned in. And not one of those articles regarded her very highly. Even in the article about her death, the press seemed to mention the bad things Joanna had been involved in. Scully was beginning to realize why no one had real remorse when she died. Scully got up from the bed and walked over the dresser, where she had placed the bracelet Mulder found. Sealed in an evidence bag, she just looked at it. Scully hoped Mulder was feeling better soon. She was even up to listening to some of his theories. At first, Scully had thought that maybe Joanna had known Katie, those 5 years ago. But no such luck. The Martins' hadn't even lived here then. They moved in May 14, 1993. Joanna had been killed May 13, 1993. But the closeness in dates was enough to give Scully a shudder. She returned to the bed and spread the articles out one by one, and looked at them. She was so involved, she didn't hear Mulder approach her. "Scully?" Scully almost jumped when Mulder said her name. She turned to him. "Sorry, Scully. Didn't mean to scare you." He walked toward her, but put a hand to his head when he reached her. Scully touched the cut on his head. It had started to bleed again and looked a little red. "Feeling any better?" she asked. Mulder winced as she touched his cut. "I would if you would stop touching that spot," he answered. "Sorry, Mulder." She frowned. "Like I said last night, if you remember," she added, "That cut doesn't need stitches. But I'd like to close it with some butterflies, Mulder. You don't want to get an infection." For once, Mulder nodded and he sat on the bed. "So what's with the articles all spread out?" he asked as she approached him with some gauze in hand. "Just reading up a little on Joanna Wasserman." "Ouch, that stings," Mulder said as she dabbed antiseptic on his cut. "Sorry about that, Mulder, but it can't be helped." She paused a second, going back to cleaning his cut. "So what was she like? She must have been something to be mentioned in all of these articles," Mulder commented. "Yeah, she was something. Something bad. Not one of those articles regards her highly, not even the one about her death. Seems she was some kind of a young terror." "Like Carrie at the prom?" Mulder said with a smile. Scully smiled. "I guess you are getting back to normal." "So what we need to find out now is how her fingerprints got on the bracelet." "Yep," Scully said, finishing up with the cut. "There's probably a logical explanation." "Don't start me on that logical explanation crap, Scully. Sarah Martin's death doesn't have a logical explanation." "It could." Mulder let out a breath. "Normally I would love to argue logic with you Scully, but today it is giving me a headache." Scully bent down a little, so they were eye level. "Okay, Mulder." "I want to talk to the family again. Katie particularly." "Why Katie?" "She seemed a little nervous last time we saw her." "Her sister just died, Mulder." Mulder got up off the bed. "Yeah, but something about her is still bothering me. I have a pretty strong hunch. Humor me. Some of my hunches have worked." Scully smiled. "Ok, but if we turn up nothing, which is my bet, you owe me dinner. In a _decent_ restaurant." "McDonald's not on your list of decent restaurants anymore?" he teased. "Not when I watch you eat four Big Macs in one sitting." "It's quality food, Scully," he argued with a smile. "Yeah, quality food that spends quality time in your arteries." Mulder just grinned at that. He grabbed a folder. "Now I'm going to spend some quality time with these files. Want to call the Martins' and ask them when we come back?" "Ok," Scully agreed. "But, Mulder?" "Yeah?" he said turning around. "Go easy. If the words swim in front of you, stop reading. And tell me." Mulder smiled. "Yes, Doctor," he said as he headed back to his room. On the road Rutherford, NJ 2:31 p.m. "Mulder, put that down, you're starting to give ME a headache." Scully took her eyes off the road for a minute to study her partner; he was leaning forward, eye buried in the file, one hand absently rubbing his forehead. He didn't respond. A few minutes passed and Scully found herself going in circles around the town area. "Hey Mulder, I don't know about you but I'm starved. Could you put that down for a minute and help me find a restaurant?" Slowly, he looked up. "What?" "A restaurant." She stared at Mulder. "Are you sure you're up to this? We can interview them tomorrow if you want." She realized after she said it that "if you want" was not the right phrasing. "I mean--" "I know what you mean. Look, I'm ready. We can eat wherever you want, just let's get to the Martin's before 3:30." When she shot him and inquiring look he added, "I want plenty of time before Mr. Martin gets home. I saw his statistics in Sarah's file, they had her mother and father's vitals and all. Mr. Martin, Samuel "Buster" Martin, is six foot three, two hundred fifteen pounds, former high school boxer," Mulder recited. "I just don’t wanna piss off Buster if that's okay with you." Scully smiled. "Okay, we'll get there early enough to avoid a run-in with ole Buster." Satisfied, Mulder closed the file folder, tipped back his seat and closed his eyes. Ten minutes later, when Scully found a decent looking restaurant called The Village Gourmet, and a parking space, her partner was breathing steadily. Scully walked out of the car, circled around to Mulder's side and lay a hand on his upper arm. "Mulder," she whispered. "C'mon, time to wake up, we're here." His eyes slowly drifted open, focused on her face. He squirmed under her touch and, yawning, stretched best he could in the cramped space of the car. She stepped aside so he could get out. "Let's get something to eat then go see Buster and friends." "Right," he mumbled. Inside the restaurant was heated, a nice contrast to the gusty November that reigned outside. Mulder and Scully seated themselves in a booth overhung by flowers and other greenery and Mulder leaned over the table to whisper in her ear, "This is gonna be healthy isn't it?" "I'm afraid so." Mulder groaned and settled back in his side of the booth. A perky waitress by the name of Leanna took their order. Scully got a grilled chicken sandwich with a variety of green things she called vegetables and Mulder referred to as "torture devices in third world countries". Mulder requested an extra bread basket and the wine list. "No wine, Mulder. You do not need wine. Order some real food." Mulder glared at her but didn't move to order anything. The waitress stood tentatively, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, then smiled politely and left. Mulder had brought the file along. "Scully, listen to this." "No! We're eating lunch. Can't you give me a few precious case-free moments a day? Just a few?" She felt bad as soon as she saw the look of pain that crossed Mulder's face. She knew he must still have a headache that would incapacitate any normal man and didn't need to be yelled at by her. "But... the bracelet..." "We had it analyzed already." He carefully studied his fingernails. "But... we haven't considered... why it was there. We know Katie didn't go up to the piano or anywhere near there. Everyone saw her sitting in her seat a few rows back. There was no way she could've gotten up without people noticing. Also, have you considered that Katie possibly visited the crime scene AFTER the time her sister was killed? And left her bracelet there by accident THEN?" Nothing was fitting together and he was frustrated and his head was pounding. "We just.... we need to consider....." He paused. "I just think we need to think about this more." Thinking was the last thing he wanted to do. Sleeping was number one on the list.. in the comfortable hotel bed. Mulder had never held beds in high respect but at this moment he wanted nothing more than a bed and a couple pillows and a blanket. Scully placed her hand over his. "Don't worry. Let's eat and we'll discuss this later." Mulder grimaced at the thought of eating. His stomach was already doing flip-flops. Katie Martin's room Rutherford, NJ 3:00 p.m. Katie scowled at her homework. "This is so stupid. I KNOW these answers, I KNOW how to do them... it just takes forever to write them all out." She gazed out the window and absently chewed a fingernail. She tried something. "I wish my homework was all done so I could talk on the phone." She squeezed her eyes closed. "I wish it was done, I wish it was done." She looked down at her paper. Twenty neat rows of number greeted her eyes. Alarmed, she sucked in a deep breath. "I wish I had long, blue hair." She leaned over to look in the mirror. "Shit! Change it back, change it back!!!! Uh, I wish I had my old hair back." She breathed a sigh of relief. "All right... I wish those stupid FBI agents and their boring clothes would leave us alone." The Village Gourmet Rutherford, NJ 3:04 p.m. Mulder had been zoning out. He suddenly gasped for air, sharply jerked his head up. "Scully," he whispered. Looking up from her chicken sandwich, Scully stared at him. "Yeah?" "Let's go back," he said breathlessly, and struggled clumsily to get into his trenchcoat. "Hey, hold on their a minute, G-man. I'm still eating, remember." She eyed him worriedly. "What's the matter? I thought you were so desperate to get to the Martin's." He shook his head wildly, then tried to push aside the stabbing pain. Scully frowned. "All right. Let me just finish up." Mulder looked around the restaurant quickly. His breathing seemed to be coming in short gasps. Scully immediately dropped her chicken sandwich and looked at him. "Mulder, are you all right?" she asked, trying to get a good look at his face. "What?" Mulder said turning around, distracted. He seemed on edge about something. Scully noticed a red flush in his cheeks, not unlike the one she had seen after his "nap" the day before. She frowned and reached out to touch his hand. It was unusually warm. She frowned. "What, Scully?" Mulder repeated. He shook his head again and scrunched his eyes against the pain. "You're right, Mulder. Let's go." Scully dumped some cash on the table and motioned for Mulder to get up. "To the Martins'?" he asked hopefully. "No back to the motel. You have a fever. I can tell from your eyes." Scully knew Mulder would argue at that. He didn't disappoint her, though it was a weak argument. Mulder shook his head. "I'm fine, Scully." Scully just glared him. "We're going back to the motel," she said in her best 'doctor's orders' voice. Scully was shocked to see Mulder stand up and say, "Ok." He started to walk back toward the car. Scully frowned even more, and stood there for a second. Then she picked up her purse and followed Mulder out. 3:23 p.m. Scully pulled up to the motel and glanced at her partner. He had fallen asleep in the five minutes that the drive back to the motel had taken. She turned the ignition off and quietly laid a hand on his forehead. Mulder stirred but didn't wake. He was warm, but not too bad. she thought, "Mulder," she said as she tapped his shoulder. "What?!" Mulder woke alarmed, ready to grab his gun. "We're here." Scully frowned again. "I want to get you into bed. I should have never let you come out today." Mulder looked out at a spot that Scully couldn't identify. He didn't seem to be paying attention. Scully pulled on his shoulder and he got out of the car and followed her to his room, without saying a word. Scully wished he was arguing because she was getting really worried. Mulder turned the key and opened his room and went to the bed and collapsed on it. He laid there with his eyes at half mast. "Scully, I never thought I'd say this, but, I'm glad I have this bed instead of my couch at home." Scully sat on the edge of the bed. "That doesn't sound like you," Scully said quietly. "Stay here. I'm going to get my thermometer and some aspirin." Mulder immediately rose up and that remark. "I'm okay, Scully. Just a little tired. Just a little nap and I'll be ready and raring to go. Then we can go to the Martins', regardless of Buster," he said, forcing a small smile. Scully couldn't help smiling a little. That sounded more like Mulder. She shook her head. "You are not going anywhere besides this bed," she ordered in her 'doctor's orders' voice again. "The Martins' can wait till your fever breaks." She threw his sweats at him. "Change into these, and when I come back you better not be anywhere else but in that bed, or you better pray I don't have my gun." Scully walked into her room the find her thermometer. Mulder watched Scully walk into her room. He took his suit jacket off. Scully returned a couple of minutes later, happy to see Mulder in his sweats and more importantly, in bed. "See, it's not that hard to listen," she said, smiling cheerfully. A little too cheerfully for Mulder's taste. Mulder yawned but still glared at Scully. He shivered and burrowed deeper into the covers. Scully took that opportunity to put her thermometer into Mulder's ear. He stared at her and frowned until it beeped. "101. Not too serious. It's probably your body telling you to get your ass into bed and stay there. God knows I am." She handed him two more aspirins and went into the bathroom and came back with a glass of water. Mulder sighed and downed the two pills in one gulp. He laid back down. Scully tucked the covers around him. "Don't worry, I'm sure it will be down by tomorrow," Scully reassured him. "It's not that Scully. I get the feeling that something is trying to get us off this case." "Mulder, you're being paranoid, as usual." "No, Scully. I'm sure of it. I got this feeling today th-" Scully cut him off. "I'll listen to your feelings later, Mulder. Now you are going to sleep." She shut the light off and walked to her room, closing the door behind her. Mulder closed his eyes, but didn't sleep. He knew something was trying to stop them. But what? And why? The Martin's House Rutherford, NJ 5:08 p.m. Much to Katie's relief, the FBI agents didn't return today. What scared her, though, was that she thought she had something to do with it. "Katie-- dinner." "All right," she called back. "Hmm..." She smiled mischievously. "I wish I could eat my dinner in the living room and watch TV. "Katie, honey? Would you like to eat in the living room tonight?" She raised her eyebrows, feigning surprise. "Uh, sure, mom. Why?" There was a long pause. "I don't know, honey. I just thought it would be nice." "Okay, I'll be right there." Katie sank back on her bed, confused. Her newly found "power" was nice... but she wasn't sure the extent of it. She lay back so her head was at the foot of her bed and her feet were on the pillow and studied the cracks in the paint on the ceiling. "Who's doing this?" She asked aloud. On second thought, "I wish I knew who was doing this." JOANNA the walls whispered. The walls whispered? "Joanna who?" Katie asked. "I wish I knew Joanna who." The rhyme made her shudder. JOANNA IS ENOUGH "I wish I knew why the walls were talking to me," she said and whimpered. "I wish I understood this all. I wish I knew who killed my sister." YOU DID YOU DID YOU DID "I did not," she said through clenched teeth. DID TOO "DID NOT!" "Katie, sweetie, who are you talking to?" Her mom said. "Uh.. no one, mom." She could picture her mom's frown. "Okay," she said. Katie thought. "Honey, dinner's getting cold." "Right, mom," Katie said. "I wish I could see you... Joanna." She ended in a whisper. YOU CAN'T. The voice was taunting. "Why not?" JUST BECAUSE. And then a silence filled the room. Motel Rutherford, NJ 6:00 p.m. From the next room Scully could hear retching. She grimaced and stepped through the conjoining doors. "Mulder?" she said gently. She found him on the bathroom floor, shivering in earnest. "Hey, c'mon." Scully knelt by him. "Let's get you back to bed." She lay a hand on his cheek, felt the heat radiating off him. The Martin's Rutherford, NJ 5:58 p.m. Katie was back in the privacy of her room. "I wish that FBI agent would die. The one with the boring tie, I wish he would die." NO YOU DON'T the walls taunted her. "Yes I do." THAT WOULD MAKE PEOPLE SUSPICIOUS THOUGH Katie frowned. "You think they're suspicious, now?" A pause then YEAH "Oh. Well." Katie fiddled with her sweatshirt, bringing the zipper up, then down, then settling on it somewhere in the middle. She fixed the hood, pushed it down, then to the sides, and finally solved the whole mess by pulling the sweatshirt over her head and throwing it on the floor. "I hate you," Katie said. YOU HATE YOUR SISTER "Do not. Did not. I DUNNO. You're the one who started this whole mess." YOU WANTED IT "Wanted," Katie reminded her. "WANTED. Past tense. I want Sarah alive now." I CAN'T BRING PEOPLE BACK TO LIFE. KILLING HER WAS YOUR CHOICE, YOU DEAL WITH THE AFTERMATH NOW. "I am," Katie said and sulked. After a couple minutes the walls suggested LEAVE THE FBI AGENT ALONE. HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING Katie glared at the walls. "Katie! Phone call!" Katie took one more glance at the walls. "Coming Mom," she called and walked out of the room glancing at the walls again. She'd leave the FBI man alone. For now. End Part 02 of 11.