JUST THE TWO OF US: Book II Mulder and Evan (2/3)

JUST THE TWO OF US: Book II Mulder and Evan (2/3)
By S. Esty (AKA Windsinger@aol.com)

Chapter 7

Three pairs of eyes stared at the map pinned to the wall of
the West Virginia Visitor's Center just outside of Charles Town. On
this day, six shopping days before Christmas, the only employee on
duty was a college student from Virginia Tech, home on break and
trying to make a few extra dollars. She was earning her money
today. The poor girl was sweating, Mulder's FBI credentials had
done that, but to Evan's sympathetic eye she was holding her own
well. Weighing all of ninety pounds soaking wet, she had stood up
to Mulder's intense, nearly manic gaze and impatient questioning
and kept her cool. Knew her stuff well enough, too. Thank goodness
she was a local girl and not someone from the city.

First, she had given them a brief tour of the high points in
the Potomac Highlands.

Evan stared at the large blocks of green on the map before
them. "For an area one fifth the size of the entire state of West
Virginia is there more than ten square miles in one piece that
isn't part of a state park or National Forest? We're trying to find
a woman here who wanted to get close to nature for a few days and
we find that just about the whole region would qualify as
'natural'."

The girl's impulse was to laugh at the comment, but the bleak
features of the thin, dark man to her right killed even the smile
on her lips. "It's not THAT bad, though it is true that except for
the valley areas beside the streams and rivers the land is not good
for much besides forests. The Scots loved it though. A lot of them
settled here because it reminded them of the Scottish Highlands.
Hence the name. "

A recriminating stare from Evan jolted Mulder into awareness
of the young woman's plight. Remembering she had given her name as
Elise McClintock, he made a sincere effort to banish the hardness
from his face and his voice, even if he could not dispel the
darkness in his eyes. He actually tried to smile. That, Evan could
see, melted the girl's uneasiness in a heart beat. <There's a man
who should smile more,> Evan thought, then remembered that since he
had known Fox Mulder, the man had not had a lot to smile about.

"If this place is supposed to resemble the Scottish Highlands
then it must be rugged, " Mulder mused, making conversation as a
kind of apology for his previous grilling while the girl pulled out
brochures on a number of the state parks. "My maternal grandmother
was largely Scottish. She would tell us -" Mulder stumbled in his
narrative. The memory came unbidden. He and Sam, ages nine and
five, huddled in blankets before the fire. A rare sleep over at
Grandma's house in Michigan. "S-She would tell us stories about how
the Highland Scots loved their country - mostly because the rugged
inaccessible terrain made it easier to hide the results of their
cattle raids."

Elise risked a shaky smile. "A thief would have more luck
rustling chickens these days."

Mulder acknowledged the truce they seemed to have made by a
passing glance with his tired eyes. "So we're facing about twenty
counties of CHICKEN farms, state parks, and national forests."

"I think we can ignore the chicken farms," Evan offered.

Mulder raised a tolerant eyebrow in Evan's direction to which
the larger man shrugged. The agent continued. "There seem to be
three main concentrations of the kinds of state parks the Scully's
family visited. One group in the Berkeley Springs area in the
northeast, one group in the central region, in and around Taylor
County, primarily Canaan Valley and Blackwater Falls, and then
there's the largest cluster, further south and west." Fox paced
back and forth in front of the posted map.

Evan eyed Mulder uncomfortably. "Mulder, you may not feel that
I've known Dana long enough to find my opinions worth much, but I
don't see Dana going far. She needed to get away, yes - we both put
her in an impossible position - but she would want to be able to
get back quickly, if she was... needed."

Mulder's brow furrowed. The shadow was back.

Swallowing noticeably, Evan dropped his eyes once again to the
map. "Of the three groupings you mentioned, the Taylor County area
seems closest to the District, and on the way there we can drop in
on Lost River and Seneca Rocks. Closer yet."

"But not as close as Baltimore is to Berkeley Springs and
Cacapon State Park," Mulder corrected. "The Scully's have lived in
Baltimore for a long time."

Elise shook her head. "This woman you're looking for, she has
some knowledge of the area and she's young? Then it's unlikely she
would find Berkeley Springs to her taste. It was a famous spa years
and years ago. The older people go there to reminisce. And Cacapon,
though it has a lodge and winterized cabins, the more southern
parks have - how can I say this - more 'natural grandeur'."

Mulder pursed his lips, considering. "Good point. Then for the
'natural grandeur' and proximity to the Washington area, we'll
first concentrate on Lost River, then visit the central Highlands
proper, Canaan Valley and the -" he took a second to wrap the next
word properly around his tongue "- Monongahela National Forest."

The girl handed them a slick, shiny brochure. "Canaan Valley
is a beautiful and rocking place this time of year." That got both
men's attention. "That's one mega ski resort." Elise pointed to the
description. "Two Hundred and fifty lodge rooms. And, even though
we're having an incredibly dry season so far, they have six trails
of man-made snow open. It's a popular place around the holidays,
but they might have had some vacancies last weekend."

Mulder stared at the brightly colored pictures of the smiling,
carefree young men and women for a half a dozen painful heartbeats
before tossing it aside. "No, too loud, too many people."

"I agree," Evan said solemnly, turning to Elise. "She'd want
someplace private, someplace quiet and more suitable for
meditation."

"Not Canaan Valley, then, and Lost River closed their cabins
two weeks ago though the park itself is open during the day."

Mulder ran that nervous hand through his hair. Abruptly, he
took up two copies of the map they had been reading and the pile of
brochures and headed out the door. "Enough of this. We're losing
the day."

********

Two hours later and they had been to Lost River State Park and
hit a quiet, all-American town called Smithfield, which professed
to have a chicken processing plant that made most of McDonald's
supply of Chicken McNuggets. Mulder had slouched down in his seat
as far as a man his size could and still wear a shoulder harness
and seat belt. Not good for his knees or legs, but, temporarily, it
took some strain off certain spots on his butt. No one they had
talked to remembered seeing a woman of Dana's description, but
Mulder knew their search was just beginning. The only bright spot,
which was barely a glimmer, was that his cellular worked only
sporadically, an observation Scully had mentioned to her mother.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Evan found himself
yawning as he unhappily watched the quickly setting sun.

"You've done all the driving. You should let me take over for
a while," Mulder offered from where he sat beside the larger man,
holding the map first one way and then the other."

Evan gave his companion a sidelong glance. "I don't like those
dark circles around your eyes. When mine get as dark as yours THEN
you can drive. Figured out where we are yet?"

Fox swore softly. "I told you my spatial sense would send
birds to the arctic for the winter. On cases I usually drive and
Scully does the navigating. I tend to see the open road, Scully
sees the turns."

"Sort of a metaphor for your partnership, I'd say," Evan
murmured under his breath. A partnership with Mulder hell-bent on
pursuing one of his theories, Dana seeing the parts of the puzzle
which did not fit. In their personal relationship, however, that
was a different story. From what Dana had told Evan during the long
evenings when they were waiting for some file to download or for
some article to be retrieved from the 'stacks', Dana thought Fox
saw only the complications, or only chose to see them. Given
encouragement, Evan was certain Dana would be full steam ahead.

The road took a dip and a turn and the Blazer's right wheel
dropped precipitously off the berm. It was Evan's turn to swear.
The roads were narrow and twisting and followed one meandering
stream bed after another, occasionally rising to follow a ridge or
dipping to flow along a valley floor, that is, as long as the
valley went approximately where the road wanted to go.

"Hasn't this state ever heard of a freeway?" Evan grumbled.

Fox looked up from the hopelessly wrinkled map with raised
eyebrows. "You ARE from California, aren't you?"

"Guilty as charged," Evan admitted, "though that's WAS from
California, not ARE. I think I see why Ruben settled in a civilized
place like D.C. when he decided to come east."

"Ruben?"

"Ruben Anthony Byers, my second cousin. You know him as just
'Byers'." Mulder returned a blank look. "You know, 'Byers'," Evan
repeated. "He said he knows you. Small world. Well, maybe not so
small considering what you two have in common."

"Byers? BYERS? As in The-Lone-Gunman Byers?" Mulder asked
incredulously. "You're related?"

"By marriage," Evan admitted. "No shared genes, but we grew up
together." The road took a turn to travel alone, aiming for a mile
or more straight down a broad valley and Evan felt his death grip
on the steering wheel relax. "Ruben was always a weird duck.
Intelligent, oh, my yes, but always suspicious. He went to a
birthday party and he would assume that if there was no chocolate
ice cream someone had it in for him or, if he was feeling
charitable, that someone was allergic to
chocolate. That someone would just PREFER vanilla, out of choice,
never made sense to him. Everyone had to have an ulterior motive."
Evan laughed. "For Christmas every year he renews my subscription
to that publication of his."

Mulder studied Evan carefully. "Do you read it?"

Evan stared at the road aware of Mulder's eyes. Something in
the tone of that voice... he wondered if he was in danger of
stepping on some toes here. "Occasionally," he admitted,
"especially around election time or when I want to give myself
nightmares. Better than a Stephen King novel."

"So you think it's all groundless paranoia?"

"No, that's what makes it so scary. Some of it could very well
be true. The question is, what?"

"What indeed," Fox agreed.

That afternoon they visited two state parks, five offices of
various law enforcement agencies, and three volunteer fire
stations, asking questions and showing Dana's picture. The
employees of all the small convenience shops that tended to cluster
by the entrances to the parks were questioned. No one could recall
seeing a petite red-headed woman traveling alone. Neither Scully,
nor her car.

They made several stops in Petersburg, the county seat of
Hardy County. At each they found prominently displayed a missing
person's announcement with 'From the office of the Assistant
Director of the FBI, Walter S. Skinner' printed at the bottom. They
had used her official FBI photo for the poster. Skinner had done
his part and gotten the word out. The question remained, however,
with the holiday fast approaching, would anyone care? At each stop
Evan noticed the way Mulder's attention was captured and held by
that static pose on the picture, by her eyes, even though his face
betrayed no emotion.

Mulder had been like two people all afternoon. The public man
was polite, quiet, at times even congenial in a black humor sort of
way. Had said and done all that was necessary but no more. The
private man could be seen in the eyes and the stiff way the lanky
body moved. That was all of the private man Evan cared to see.

At the State Highway patrol substation in Petersburg, Mulder
was coolly reserved and professional and Evan had pressed the flesh
and smiled cooperatively. As they headed back to Evan's Blazer,
Mulder stumbled on the worn marble steps. <About time,> Evan
thought. His pale, gaunt companion could not continue moving on
coffee alone much longer after the night and day he had been
through. Evan pumped the gas then pulled across the street and into
the parking lot of a Pizza Hut.

Mulder raised his head from a near doze. "Byers, we have to
keep moving."

"Mulder, if we don't stop soon I, at least, am going to faint
from hypoglycemia." Evan got out of the car and motioned for his
passenger to join him. "Come on. Fair's fair. Fuel for the car,
fuel for the body."

Mulder collapsed rather than sat on the other side of the
booth from Evan and picked at a salad from the salad bar. The small
packages of saltines he had eyed with distrust. He blew his nose on
the rough napkins. With the coming of evening his cold symptoms had
reasserted themselves. Clumsily, he fished the bottle of cold
capsules out of his pocket and downed two.

Before it could vanish back into that pocket, Evan had reached
over and snagged the bottle, rapidly reading the ingredients. "Did
you take any of these yesterday?" he asked in a physician's voice
which had sounded too much like Scully's.

Mulder's long arm snatched the container back. "Maybe."

"The antihistamine in here is one of the worst for
drowsiness."

"Scully gave them to me a couple of months ago. I'm the man
who gives a new meaning to insomnia, remember? She said I needed my
rest. I thought since I wasn't driving anyway -"

"Yeah, but then you went out drinking."

"At the time I took them I didn't know I was going out
drinking. I guess I forgot."

The waitress came with their pizza. Evan stared at it and
grumbled. "A depressant like that on top of alcohol? You could have
killed yourself. No wonder you were so out of it last night and
this morning. I should have taken you to the hospital and had your
stomach pumped."

Mulder frowned and set his unfocused stare on the other side
of the room. His mind otherwise occupied, he woofed down two pieces
of the pizza without seeming to realize he was doing it. Then he
turned green.

Evan got the rest boxed, the remainder of his extra large
caffeine-laden Diet Coke to go, grabbed a large handful of napkins
and they were on the road again.

"Are you going to be able to hold it?" Evan asked, wishing
they had a rental car rather than his own.

Mulder nodded curtly, not opening his eyes.

"What happened in there?" Evan asked. "You remember you're
allergic to mushrooms or something?"

Fox shook his head. "I don't eat much when I'm on a case."

"I thought you told Skinner this wasn't a case."

"This is worse than a case."

Evan drove into the last of the sunset. Mulder opened his eyes
again after about fifteen minutes. In the light from the Blazer's
instrument panel, the stress lines did not seem so deep. Self-
consciously, Evan began, "What are you thinking about?"

Evan's passenger kept staring at the road. "About not throwing
up. What do you think I'm thinking about?"

"You know what I mean."

Mulder kept his silence.

"Look, Fox -"

"Don't call me that," the agent grumbled in a low voice that
was nearly a threat.

"Sorry. I guess I just got into the habit when you weren't
around."

"Does she call me 'Fox', too?" Mulder asked with more than a
little irritation.

"No, she always calls you 'Mulder'." Evan made a grab for the
remains of his drink as the road went into a straight stretch where
he could drive one handed for a bit. "Incidently, I don't think
'Fox' is such a bad name."

"It's not yours."

"True, but it has style. And it suits you. Not as in the
'She's a fox' or 'He's a fox' connotation, but because you move
like a fox, you're intense, watchful. If you used it more often,
people would forget the other association."

In the dimness of approaching night and the blackness of the
countryside under the trees Evan could barely see dark brows coming
together. "I'll think about it."

Evan drove a little further and began again. "Before we got
onto that I asked about what was on your mind. Mulder, I've been
listening to those wheels in your head spinning for five hours
now."

Fox shifted restlessly in his seat. The brief respite in
Petersburg from being folded into this car again had not lasted
nearly long enough. When he drove it kept his mind off of how
restless and uncomfortable he got sitting still, all of which did
not contribute to his mood, which meant he did not want to talk.

"Come on, Fo - Mulder. At least tell me what you think we are
doing here? Is this driving all over the countryside a waste of
time?"

A specific question, Mulder could manage. He shrugged. "No,
not a waste of time. Skinner's done his part and the agencies have
been notified, but as you and Scully found out in Colorado, there
is no substitute for being on site."

"That can't be all that's been on your mind. Look, Mulder, I'm
not stupid. I know I'm not Scully. I know I'm not wanted. But we
are stuck with each other. You're stuck with me because Skinner
says so and I'm stuck with you because I know you are the best
person to find Dana. But I'm only willing to put up with so much
and I'm not a mind reader. Talk to me. Any fool thing that comes
into your head. I might even have an idea or two. I'm afraid if I
don't know what you're thinking then I'm not going to be of much
help."

Mulder rested his head against the glass of the passenger side
window feeling the cold leak into his skull. The headache had come
back along with the congestion. The coolness helped.

Not getting a direct refusal, Evan surged onward. "You've
worked on some dangerous cases together. Dana hasn't talked about
that but I know. Are there people who would want to hurt her?"

Mulder kept his eyes focused on the front window. "Yes," he
admitted slowly. "Quite a few but luckily most are behind bars.
You're better at this than I thought you'd be."

"Blame Scully. She taught me a lot in Colorado." Evan coughed
a little nervously. "Sorry to bring that up."

Mulder waved his hand absently. "It's okay. I've put my ghosts
to rest on that one and Scully's a good teacher. On occasion she's
even been able to get a thing or two through this thick skull of
mine. But you're right about the other cases. That is what I've
been doing - going through each of the cases we've had together in
my head to see if there are any loose ends. There are a few but
amazingly, the bad guys - the really bad guys - don't tend to have
many friends who would be willing to stick out their necks to
revenge their being put away. Thanks to Scully and her meticulous
record keeping our incarceration rate is very high. That helps."

"Nothing recent? No current cases?"

Evan almost thought he saw white teeth gleaming in answer to
that one. "Except for the White Industries case, I've been a little
preoccupied. We haven't been exactly pulling our weight around the
office. But there are also my old cases from VC. There may be a few
of our less than model citizens who would be happy to hurt me
through her. Some may have gotten out on parole. Legal tends to
keep us informed on those, but I've been out of touch." The dark
head motioned towards the back of the car. "That's why I brought
Dana's laptop. I'm not the wizard Scully is with those things but
I can access the basic Bureau and national databases. When we
finally stop I want to check on the status of some of my least
favorite people and make sure they are safely rotting behind bars
or drooling onto their straight jackets as they should be. There're
also databases listing information on cars which have been stolen
or junked and those involved in robberies or accidents. I want to
check those, too. I know Skinner will have assigned someone to take
care of that, but I just want to be sure."

Evan nodded. He could understand. The mention of Skinner's
name brought something to mind.

"There's something I've been meaning to say," he began and
stopped.

"And?" Mulder asked, a little irritation in his voice.

"It's not easy. While you were going through Dana's things
Skinner told me about your - I guess you could call them
treatments. Over the weekend." Beside him Mulder let a long sigh.
"Why didn't you tell me you were better? I felt like ten times a
fool calling the police and Skinner down."

"You mean you wouldn't have if I had told you? 'Oh, by the
way, Dr. Byers, I just spent the larger part of last weekend under
hypnosis and now I'm only half crazy so you don't need to lock up
your daughters quite yet.' Would you have believed me?"

Evan found it difficult answering that.

"I'll make it easy for you. In the state you found me in this
morning 'I' wouldn't have believed me." Mulder's voice faded to a
softer tone as he stared out into the blackness beyond the confines
of the car. "Feels like a dream. No, a nightmare. One I can't wake
up from."

Evan didn't ask what still felt like a nightmare. He didn't
want to know.

The car moved on. Another hill, and another, a turn, a moon in
the winter-crisp sky. Hardly any other cars on the road. A gaudy
billboard came into the range of their headlights and just as
quickly fell behind. "Canaan Valley Ski Resort coming up. Do you
want to stop?"

From the noise Mulder made in the back of his throat it was
obvious he did not.

"There will be a lot of people there," Evan suggested.
"Someone may have seen her. We should at least make sure there's a
poster." To this Mulder agreed with a grunt but while Evan went in
he stayed, walking around the car stretching his legs.

At first Evan liked the place. Granted, it was small, much
smaller than the big resorts he was used to out West, but it had
the same feel, the same wet wool and mildew smell which brought
back those good college memories. The Petersburg office had given
Mulder a thick stack of the notice Skinner had FAXed. Evan left a
few with the registration desk. After getting an assurance from the
shift manager that they would be posted, Evan looked into the
lounge.

Yep, college. There were a lot of young people. They were
laughing and snuggling around the huge roaring fire, drinking, and
flirting and listening to popular music which was too loud. Evan
was glad that Mulder had remained outside. The poor guy was
depressed enough.

When Evan returned, he found Mulder had laid out the wrinkled
map over the roof of the car and was squinting at it by the blue
light of the parking lot halogen lamps. He was tired and had left
his glasses packed with his clothes in the back which was locked.

"Didn't your mother ever warn you about going blind if you did
stuff like that?" Evan asked as he approached.

"No, but Scully has often enough."

Evan leaned into the car and pulled out his soda cup. As he
drank off the remainder he noticed Mulder had one finger pointing
significantly at a spot on the map.

"We go there," Mulder said.

Evan looked over his shoulder. Having a couple of inches on
Mulder, who was himself tall, he could do that. "Blackwater Falls?
Mulder, it's dark, if you haven't noticed. The lodge has closed for
the season and the girl at the Welcome Station said that parks
without night lodging close at dusk and it's long past dusk." Evan
dumped the empty cup in an overflowing trash receptacle and opened
the front door. "It's on our list for tomorrow. Besides we have an
appointment with the Taylor County Sheriff in Deacon's Chapel
tonight."

"Tonight," Mulder insisted, folding the map haphazardly into
four uneven squares. No room for argument in that tone. "Let the
sheriff wait."

"Not very much to see at night," Evan asserted, looking into
the blackness of the woods beyond Canaan Valley's parking lot.

"It has a name Scully would like and Mrs. Scully mentioned
it."

Evan sat behind the wheel and stared over as Mulder clicked on
his seat belt. "And...?"

Mulder gave him a steady look, thinking to himself that Evan
was getting pretty good at reading him. "And I have a feeling."

"A feeling."

Mulder sat back in the seat. "Turn left onto route 55, go
eight miles, then right on route 14."

Evan started the car. "That's 'right' on route 55 but who's
keeping score."

End of Book II, Chapter 7

=====================================================================
======

JUST THE TWO OF US: Book II Mulder and Evan (8/12)
By S. Esty (AKA Windsinger@aol.com)

Chapter 8

From the turn-off at the main highway, the gravel road wound
through dense woods for some miles before it reached a Y-
intersection where the main park began. There was a barrier, a
metal gate secured with a heavy chain, easy to climb over,
impossible to drive through. Fox got out of the car to feel the
cold seep in under his coat and down his neck. The only
illumination was a little frosty white from the moon which was
nearly obscured by the thick lacing of barren tree branches and the
penetrating gleam from the Blazer's head lights.

"I told you it would be closed," Evan sighed tiredly. "We'll
come back tomorrow."

Mulder walked further down the road they had driven in on,
hands in his pockets. Reluctantly, Evan followed until they had
both left behind the island of light near the car. For long seconds
the darkness was a solid, formless emptiness until their night
vision kicked in and then all was wrapped in either shadow or the
silvery kiss from the moon's reflected light. No longer hidden at
this angle by the trees, night's cold, white sun showed its pure
face in the clear country sky. No trouble seeing now except in the
darkest shadows. At least that was what Evan thought until his
companion disappeared.

"Mulder..."

A pause. "Here." The missing man reappeared from a black pool
under the trees, gesturing towards the area under the drooping
boughs. "See, this has been cleared. Even a pickup can slide safely
under these branches if driven slowly enough. I assume there's a
caretaker who stays during the winter. I can't see him willing to
wrestle with that gate and that chain every time he wants to come
and go."

Evan nodded, staring into the darkness, just able to make out
a path delineated by a set of tire tracks. Simple really, but only
if there was someone like Mulder to point it out.

"Mulder, if I drove through there, I would probably be
trespassing." In response, Mulder simply reached for his badge and
let the plastic and metal glitter in the moonlight. "I suppose you
get girls with that, too," Evan grumbled, heading back for the car.

"Not often," Fox remarked dryly as he followed, enjoying in a
grim way the other man's pique. "The women in D.C. are hard to
impress these days. In rural America, however... that's a different
story."

Evan stiffly climbed back behind the wheel. He doubted Mulder
was fooling anyone, even himself. He talked a good game, but Evan
was willing to bet that Mulder had not had a date in six months.
Probably had never even tried much since Scully came on board. How
long had they been working together? Nine months? After all, Mulder
had had Scully working beside him just about every waking minute
since then. In Evan's book any other woman would pale by comparison
just from the sheer force of her personality.

The path under the trees was narrow, but dry, and the double
wheel tracks showed up easily in the head lights. The Blazer's
tires soon found narrow, unlined pavement again. This was clearly
the same road that they had found blocked by the gate. Evan drove
slowly, even dimmed the lights to better catch the reflective glare
from many pairs of gold and green animal eyes, as surprised as Evan
was to find him in such a place at this time of the year. A family
of deer walked serenely by, turning as one to trot off, showing
just a hint of their white tails. A low russet-colored animal with
dark legs and a bushy white-tipped tail slid by along the edge of
the cone of light.

"Your familiar?" Evan asked. Mulder, who had been leaning
anxiously forward and showing more interest in his surroundings
than he had for hours, responded with a moonlight-enhanced
glistening of his own eyes and the merest show of white teeth.

Another mile of dark forest shadow, interrupted frequently by
patches of white moonlight, and then their view expanded suddenly
to encompass a wide empty patch under the black-starred sky. A
treeless area, a parking lot, some ancient yellow lines marking the
spaces, and ahead of them the dark, straight, unnatural outlines of
a large building, undoubtedly the lodge which they sought.

As quietly as a spirit, Mulder moved up the walk to tap at the
front door of the slumbering edifice, but there was no answer to
his knock.

Evan remained frozen by the car standing beside his open door,
as if reluctant to leave the safety of the car. In truth, he was.
The night had a surreal, haunted quality. "See, Mulder, no one
home," he called in a harsh stage whisper. "Can we leave now?"

The agent, seemingly one with the shadows, just stood for a
moment beside the building, stood and listened. Not too far off
there was a sound which was steady, but not wind in the trees. A
low constant humming. "I need to look around. You can come if you
want or you can stay here. I won't be long."

Evan nervously scanned the dark forest. It was beautiful in
its way, but wild and lonely. He tried to imagine the sky full of
sun, the barren deciduous trees full of leaves, the parking lot
full of automobiles with car top carriers and minivans crammed with
children and soda cups, the sidewalks crowded with summer people in
their shorts with cameras around their necks. Instead of giving him
comfort, however, that other reality made the scene even creepier.

"If you don't mind," Evan said, hurrying to catch up, "I think
I'll tag along."

Mulder chuckled softly.

A clear path stretched before them, leading down into the
darkness. The first section of worn blacktop became a track of wood
chips and then flights of many wooden steps. The moon was their
only light, but on the footstep-smoothed path it was enough. Mulder
moved lightly, clearing his mind, his spirit, determined not to
understand what was happening, what had led him here from so many
miles away. This place was magical, somehow. Peaceful. His
footsteps made no sound, as if nothing bad or evil had ever
happened here. When he went on a case there was always death,
violence, rage. All those emotions poisoned the atmosphere so that
he could almost taste them, could feel them on his skin. The air
here was clean, new, mysteriously shimmering with life and energy,
and more than that. He could sense Dana.

The sound they had heard from above as an undercurrent of
white noise, like that from a heavily traveled freeway or the
unceasing crashing of the breakers on the shore, had become
progressively louder. Only there was no road, no broad ocean here.
The moonlight glistened off dark water far below the path they
walked on. Dark water trapped in a narrow gorge. More steps. They
kept moving down, attention captured by the phosphorescent glow of
the rushing water's flow over the rocks. As they descended the
sound became louder and louder, pounding within one's head,
blocking every conscious thought except those that tumbled, like
the wild water, willing to follow the pathway imposed by the
river's winding channel.

Mulder put his foot down upon the last step and found himself
on a wide wooden deck enclosed by a railing. He moved to the edge
and looked out from under the trees at the source of the mighty
tumult. The waterfall was breath-taking. Not a huge one, not like
Niagara, nothing near so grand, but surrounded by the dark hills
and forests, it glowed like liquid silver under the moon. He stood
and let the spray in the air touch his face, the roar invade his
mind and wipe out every errant thought until only one thread cried
out, clear and undeniable.

His bare hands gripped the rough, spray-wet, nearly frozen
wood. Dana had been here. She had stood here. Her feet on these
boards, her hands on this railing, her tears in this water. He
knew, and the knowing filled him with awe and consternation. <Why
Scully? Why here?>

There was no answer and he did not care that there was none.
That the certainty was there was all that mattered. Sustenance for
his lagging spirit. Mulder stood where she had and tried to sense
her, to sense what she had felt then and what she was feeling now
wherever she was. For just as clear as the message that she had
been here, came the knowledge that she was here no longer. When had
she come and when had she departed? Had she missed him, worried
about him? There were tears in the water. She had cried. Had she
made the decision to come home as she stood on this spot? If so,
what had happened? <Scully, where are you?>

Without any physical change in his position, Mulder moved
inside, deep inside what some call the soul and others the mind.
The roar of the falls and the burning of his palms from the frozen
rail under his hands seemed to fade away, replaced by silence. The
silence of a cold, dark place that was far colder and far darker
even than that concrete room where he had been held prisoner.

He felt a terrible chill leak into his bones. He nearly
groaned aloud. He had been given this image before and dismissed it
as a mere fever dream.

He shivered violently, and the shivering broke the spell. At
the same time, a bulky shape loomed out of the dark, the figure's
approach unheard over the roar of the falls. Merely Evan, spray
from the ever present mist like a spider web of droplets on his
golden hair.

"Mulder, she's not here," Evan said, speaking as quietly as he
could and still be heard above the crashing water.

"I know," the slender figure replied heavily, "but she was."
Mulder leaned on his forearms, weight on the railing, eyes on the
falls, and almost as if he were talking to himself, he began.

"When Scully and I are on a case, it's uncanny. It's almost as if
I can sense where she is sometimes. If she goes on reconnaissance
on the right side of a building and I take the left, I can still
sense just when and where we'll meet. I thought for a while it was
just luck or good training, but my luck has never been that good
and they don't teach telepathy at Quantico. It started early, after
just a few cases. Just little things and not often. Coincidence
then, I thought at the time, until I started expecting to see her
in unexpected places and there she'd be. Not always, not something
I would feel comfortable staking my life on, but often enough. It
was impossible. We were so unlike, but matched so well. It
surprised me." The head of dark hair dipped a little towards the
water. "Scared me, too. Dana had been with the Bureau only two
years before she was teamed with me. Mostly she had just been to
crime scenes and the lab. What we were doing was far more
dangerous, but she reveled in it for all her skepticism, took to it
like breathing. If she acknowledges it at all, I don't think she
even realizes how unique our connection is. For me, I've learned
not to question, it just is. Months and months ago, there was one
horrible night in the rain. She was injured, so was I, but I could
walk. Alone, I don't think either of us would have made it. But
together..."

Mulder wrapped his black coat closer around his thin body. He
was suddenly so cold. "It was never like that with my other
partners, even in those instances when I had one. I was always
alone. Even when I was not alone, they were outside of me and not
with me. So, I'm sure it's her and no gift of mine."

"Did you ever talk to Dana about this?" Evan asked, doubting
that in the light of day he would be able to believe that they were
having this conversation.

"She'd just dismiss it."

"Don't be so sure. When you were missing, not in Colorado, but
before, when you were out of contact and supposedly living at that
safehouse protecting Angela, even before your phone call, she knew,
she knew without a doubt that you were in trouble and if she did
not get to you soon you would die." Maybe he thought it was too
dark for the other man to see, maybe he just felt more comfortable
around Mulder, but Evan for the first time allowed his face to
openly display the magnitude of his feelings for this woman whose
strength and fierce love had so captivated him.

But watching, Mulder saw and understood... and waited, holding
his breath, waiting for the green monster to rear its head. Only it
didn't. Something about working so closely with this Doctor Byers
during the last few hours had changed those feelings. It was either
that or the lingering essence of her feelings in this place that
made him less afraid, for her thoughts and fears had only been for
her partner, for him.

Evan caught his eye. "You don't need to worry. I told her long
before I ever met you that I had been hurt once, hurt badly, and
that I would never do that to anyone else, never get in the way of
anything she wanted. Dana knows what she wants. She's accepted me
as a friend and that will have to do. I would have told you this
before now but frankly, I didn't think you'd have believed me. You
were hell bent on making me the villain in this melodrama." Evan
looked one last time at the water. "I'm getting wet and so are you.
She'll have a few dozen well-chosen words for the two of us if we
BOTH have colds when we rescue her."

Odd, on this day of all days, with the bitter dust of despair
ever present in his mouth, with the heavy pain over the center of
his chest that refused to go away, that Mulder would find himself
smiling over something Evan Byers said. There was no doubt now that
Evan cared. At times throughout the day Mulder had found himself
becoming more than a little piqued by Evan's sometimes casual
attitude, but it was just the different way the two handled the
stress. No, that wasn't right, Mulder realized. Evan was actually
behaving like Mulder did himself most days, sprinkling the hours
with irreverent humor to relieve the tension. It was the case that
was different.

They started back up the long series of paths, the trek up
from the floor of the ravine taking longer than either expected.
The long emotional day made the climb more arduous than either
would have preferred for this late hour.

"You must think I'm mad," Mulder remarked as they trudged on,
"that I should think I feel her here."

Evan paused to catch a breath. "Not really. I had a
grandmother who 'knew' things. She'd call me up in the middle of
the night when I was at college and ask me what fool thing I'd just
done."

"And what fool thing had you just done?" Mulder asked from the
darkness in front of him, something like a smile in his voice.

"It varied, but always something. And I never thought a thing
about it. It was just Grandma. It got so bad that when I did do
something stupid, like lose a sixty dollar text book or something,
my first thought would be - 'Oh, shit, Grandma's going to call and
give me hell tonight' - and she always did. I really miss that old
lady."

********

In her almost sleep Dana smiled. If she had had the strength
she would have laughed. Mulder. About time. She had been here so
many days and this was the first time she had sensed him. Either he
was close or she was closer than she thought to either madness or
death. She opened cold, tired eyes and turning her head, could just
see a corner of a frozen, white moon. Mulder had come for her, not
the closed and angry wraith she had left prowling his office den
and his dark little apartment, but Mulder. Somehow, and she was too
weak to care how, he had found himself, and for the first time in
days warmth flowed through her veins.

Thank you, Mulder. It wasn't much but enough, enough to keep
her going through one more freezing night. But what about the next
one? Run, Fox, run...

She closed her eyes and huddled back into herself and slept.
There was really nothing else to do. Maybe if she slept she would
have that lovely dream again. The dream where Mulder came for
her... No, it wasn't a dream, it was real. He had come. At least,
she hoped he had come.

********

By the time Evan pulled in beside the small brick building
behind the courthouse in the sleepy little town of Deacon's Chapel,
Mulder was sawing some serious 'Z's. He had faded out five minutes
beyond the Blackwater Falls Lodge, as if the vision, or whatever it
was, had burnt out the last of his reserves. They had driven a half
hour since then. Evan pried his eyes from the front windshield and
groaned as he got out of the car. Mulder didn't even stir. Looking
at the dark shadows on the agent's thin face, Evan didn't have the
heart to wake him. If the local bureaucrats were doing everything
they could, as it had appeared they were from all their earlier
stops, Evan decided that he could handle the official greetings by
himself.

Someone was up. The lights in the Sheriff's office still
blazed. Evan knew they were arriving much later than expected,
after ten o'clock, and so was relieved that he had taken the time
to call and warn the local constable that the contingent from the
big city was going to be delayed. When Mulder's cellular had just
hissed, Evan had begrudgingly stopped at a pay phone located
outside a dark, greasy, one-pump gas station. The response he had
gotten from the Sheriff's office was a lazy, laid-back drawl that
told him not to worry about the time.

Now that he was here, best to get on with it, though. Get it
over with and find someplace for the two of them to spend the
night. Wearily, Evan grabbed a handful of the photocopied posters
and limped up the red brick steps.

The room was warm, blazing with unaccustomed light after the
hours of darkness, and generously decorated with a large Christmas
tree - natural not artificial by the smell of pine - and garish,
inexpensive Christmas decorations. A man with thinning hair,
dressed in khaki pants and shirt, suspenders, and wearing a name
tag which read 'Sheriff E. Jonas', entered the main room from the
back eating a powdered donut. He was a big man, at least as tall as
Evan, but a lot larger around. Before introductions were even
begun, Sheriff Jonas had Evan seated at a round formica-topped
table in the office's small kitchen, with a cup of black coffee and
a piece of fruitcake.

"You look like you've been behind the wheel a few hours too
long, boy," Jonas noted, sitting down with his own coffee and slice
of the season.

"It feels that way," Evan admitted, feeling the warmth from
the strong coffee slide down his throat.

The sheriff extended a thick hand. "Sheriff Elijah Jones,
folks call me Eli."

Evan reached across the table. "Evan Byers."

"That's decaf, by the way," the sheriff pointed out. "Sorry.
My wife, she's been scheming with Bertha, that's my secretary -
excuse me, my office manager... Where was I? Anyway she's gotten
Bertha to lock up all the real coffee after noon. If you really
need the good stuff, I know where she keeps the spare key."

Evan shook his head. "Caffeine or not, I can't go much further
tonight."

"Well, before you fall asleep then, why don't you tell me
something about this little lady you Federal boys have got all of
us country folk so upset about."

Evan proceeded to tell Sheriff Jonas about Dana Scully. He
found the man an energetic conversationalist who listened intently
and asked searching, intelligent questions. Evan explained about
Dana's little get away, but not the why, about how the missing
hiking equipment and her family history led them to think she had
come to this area of the country. Also, that she was an M.D., a
well-respected pathologist for the FBI, who had worked for the last
year with a partner who specialized in violent and unusual crimes.

Jonas leaned back in the molded plastic chair, crossing his
thick legs. "I'd say you're leaving a lot out. Probably I don't
need to know this, but just why does a nice looking lady like
this," he cast a glance at Dana's picture, "want to come all the
way out here from D.C. by herself? Boyfriend troubles? I hope we
don't need to prepare for some damn gun-totin' city boy to be
tracking her in our woods."

Evan smiled lamely, his conscience pricking as he thought of
the horrors of which he had initially accused Mulder. After
spending an afternoon in the car with the man, after seeing him
standing solitary and hurting beside the dark falls, he knew, KNEW
in his bones that Mulder was not capable of that.

"Man problems? In a way, but not what you'd expect and no
jealous boyfriends. More of a misunderstanding and a lot of stress.
Someone she cares about very much has had a tough time lately, so
she's had a tough time lately."

"Just a little trip to commune with the trees, eh? We get a
lot of that and I'm not putting it down. We feel the same way about
that sort of thing ourselves. Okay, what about her cases? She due
to testify at some criminal case against some Mafia hit man or
something?"

Evan allowed himself a genuine smile. The man had the TV
generation view of the FBI. "Not that I know of. I was just talking
with her partner on that subject on the way up here... " Suddenly,
Evan leaped to his feet and headed for the door. "Oh, shit,
Mulder!" Here he was drinking coffee and being warm and cozy with
the local constabulary and there Mulder was freezing to death in
the car.

Evan raced outside and threw open the passenger door to the

Blazer. For once luck was with him and Mulder was not leaning
against the door at the time. The noise woke the agent but only
enough to cause him to stretch a cramped leg and moan slightly.
Evan placed the back of his hand against Mulder's cheek. It was
cold but not too bad and he obviously wasn't dead. Still, Evan felt
terrible. He had let Dana down. Somehow with her gone he felt
responsible for her special friend and he had done a pretty lousy
job of it so far. Not only had he let Mulder go out and get himself
comatose on antihistamines, beer and who know what else, but he had
knocked the guy unconscious, called the D.C. cops and Skinner down
on him, nearly poisoned him with pizza and now left him to freeze
in an unheated car in the middle of God-knows-where, West Virginia.

Jonas had followed him out and now leaned down to look at
Mulder's face, pale-blue under the parking lot lights. "Wondered
where the other one was. I thought you people always traveled in
pairs."

"That's Special Agent Fox Mulder," Evan introduced.

"Hmmm, obviously the partner whose had it 'tough'. I've seen
road kill look better. I think I've heard what I need from you
tonight. Come by again in the morning. You two boys got a place to
sleep? Besides this excellent vehicle, I mean."

Evan shrugged. "I saw a sign for a motel as we drove into
town."

"The Sleep Easy? Ugh! I wouldn't even send my no-account
cousin Harry to that place. The mattresses are pretty well used by
the truckers and their 'friends', if you know what I mean and I
think you two need some real sleep. You wait with him. I'll be back
in a minute."

For a big man Elijah Jonas moved quickly and was almost as
good as his word. He returned in two minutes, not one, but with a
smile and a scrap of paper. "Widow Gallings has a 'B 'n B' a couple
of blocks away, the Ashe Mountain Inn. It's not much of an Inn,
just a couple of rooms to help pay expenses, but I send all my out
of town guests there. Now she's normally closed this time of year
but she'll open for the likes of you." Evan raised his hand to
protest. "No, don't you mind about your expense account. As friends
of mine she won't charge you more than the Sleep Easy and you'll
sleep a lot easier, let me tell you."

A little dazed and with directions in hand Evan headed for
'Widow Gallings' Bed and Breakfast. The Ashe Mountain Inn was a
large stone and white frame house set off from the road down a long
drive. Evan parked in front and stood with Mulder's door open for
a moment, trying to decide whether to go up to the front door first
or try to wake Mulder so his companion would have time to wake up
and be presentable before meeting company. The decision was taken
from him as outside lights snapped on and a tiny old woman, wrapped
in a thick, black shawl, came out on the porch. With a spritely
step, she trotted down the stairs to the car.

"You must be Agent Byers," she said, extending a hand. "I'm
Amanda. Eli says you have a friend who's feeling a little poorly."
With brazen curiosity she peered in at Mulder's nearly sleeping
form as the sheriff had. With the bright porch lights in his eyes
and conversation going on around him, Mulder could sleep through
only so much and had begun to stir.

"Wake up, Fox," Evan teased. "Time to sleep in a bed. Besides
ol' paint here needs an airing."

As Mulder rubbed the sleep from his eyes and tried to bring
some feeling back into his feet, the old woman looked up the
considerable distance into Evan's broad face. "Eli says you two are
FBI and you're looking for someone."

Evan suppressed a sigh. He was too tired to try to explain
that he, at least, was not FBI. "We're looking for a woman, five
foot two, red hair -"

"Goodness. Is she dangerous?"

Evan's tired mind responded for him. "You have no idea... oh,
no, that's not what I meant. She's Agent Mulder's partner. She
disappeared last week. We think she was on her way to this area."
Evan continued because he had a great aunt who reminded him a lot
of Amanda Gallings and he knew his great aunt knew more about the
goings on in a four county area then just about anyone else in the
Northern California town where she lived. "She weighs about a
hundred and ten pounds and has blue-grey eyes. We think she was
going hiking, but she had to have a place to stay and she had to
eat, buy gas and such."

Amanda thought for a moment, then shook her grey head.
"Doesn't ring a bell, but I'll think on it. Let's get you two to
bed first and maybe something will come to me during the night."

Mulder, by this time, was unwinding himself from the front
seat, almost falling as he tried to put weight on his legs. Evan
grabbed his arm. "Heavens, the poor man," Amanda exclaimed. She
looked at Fox again over the top of her bifocals and spoke to Evan.
"Your Agent Mulder looks ill. Do you want me to call a doctor?"

"Thanks but no," Evan said, hefting Mulder's bag, as well as
his own, from the back now that Mulder had found his legs. "I think
he just needs to sleep for a few hours."

Mulder, meanwhile, had pulled Scully's lap top out from behind
the seat and was heading towards the house. He cracked an eye open
and murmured a "Nice to meet you," as he heavily climbed the steps
leading up to the front porch.

Mulder stared at their room. What Amanda had actually given
them was what she called her 'Suite'. The stairs from the first
floor entered directly onto a small sitting room off of which
opened two bedrooms and the shared bath. The roof line rose and
dipped, reminding Mulder of the little room he had been given in
Richard and Sheila's house. The rooms were furnished with what
looked like antiques. To Mulder's road-weary eyes most appeared to
be reproductions, though a few may have been genuine, and all were
aglow, like the floors, with the warmth of well-polished wood. And
there was white. Eyelet-trimmed white curtains at the windows,
white-ruffled canopy beds, white clouds of down comforters. The
bathroom had a small shower but also a reproduction of a deep, old-
fashioned claw-footed bathtub with brass fixtures and piles of
thick, gold colored towels. Everything was clean, neat, tasteful.
As Mulder placed his duffle bag down on the needlepoint luggage
rack, his eyes strayed to the pillows on the bed. A green foil
piece of chocolate mint candy lay on each of the pillows.

Mulder sagged against the wall. At that moment he couldn't
imagine wrinkling that perfect bed even by sitting on it. He
thought about all the dingy little motel rooms he had hauled Dana
to - all the showers stained with mildew, the thin, threadbare
towels, the sagging, too-soft beds, the noisy 'climate controls'
which left the rooms either too hot or too cold, the sounds of the
trucks down-shifting on the hills of the inevitable interstate.

How Dana would love this room. Her small body would be lost in
that thick comforter. The bed being higher off the floor than
normal, she would have to crawl up into it. He could almost hear
her laughter, almost see her russet hair spread out over the edge
of the white porcelain tub as she sank to her chin in mounds of
bubbles. He would have to stand in the doorway, of course, and give
her a hard time about spending all night in the bath just so that
he could, maybe, get a look at one of those slim ankles and a
dainty foot stretched out above the froth. A soapy, wet washcloth
in the face would be a small price to pay. And after her bath the
little old woman would bring her tea and some cookies and make a
fuss over her and Dana would sigh and love every minute of it.

Mulder closed his hot, tired eyes and a tear he did not even
know was there squeezed out to drop upon his cool cheek.

When Evan emerged from the bathroom after a long shower he saw
Mulder, back bent over Dana's lap top, working at the small desk in
the sitting room where the phone line was. Evan watched. For a few
moments Mulder's fingers would fly over the keys, then he would
pause, read the information the screen delivered and then take some
notes. Sometimes he needed to scroll down a longer list. Then the
whole process would repeat itself.

"Good night, Mulder," Evan announced wearily, the agent's
obsessed movements making the physician's head swim. "Don't stay up
too late." Knowing his words were falling on deaf ears, Evan headed
for his own room and closed the door.

Evan woke at four in the morning, disoriented by the darkness.
To place himself he looked around and found the luminous dial of a
clock. The warm lightness of the down comforter helped to remind
him where he was. His eyes traveled over to a line of light showing
under the door. <Damn, was Mulder still up?> But the seconds became
a minute and there was no sound of typing. No sound at all. Dressed
in loose pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, Evan crawled out of bed,
finding the clean, bare floor boards chilly, and crossed the room
to the door of the sitting room.

Mulder was slumped over the small desk, sound asleep, his head
almost on the keyboard, surrounded by piles of scrawled notes.
Swearing about fools, Evan went into Mulder's room and pulled back
the blankets before going to inspect the damage. Mulder was
completely out. Evan was able to rouse him just enough to get the
sleeping agent to stagger, largely on his own, to the side of his
bed which as far as Evan could tell had not been touched. Mulder
folded like a long, limp doll when his knees touched the mattress.
Sighing, Evan swung the long legs over and slipped off the man's
shoes before he flipped the comforter over the already sleeping
form. As he was leaving to head back to his own room, there came a
gentle snore. Remembering doing this a time or two for his room
mate in college, Evan smiled.

If this was an example of what Dana had to put up with, no
wonder she was stuck on this guy. He would push any woman's
maternal buttons. Evan doubted, however, that those were the
buttons Mulder wanted to be pushing.

End of Book II, Chapter 8

=====================================================================
======

JUST THE TWO OF US: Book II Mulder and Evan (9/14)
By S. Esty (AKA Windsinger@aol.com)

Chapter 9

Mountain Ashe Inn
Wednesday, 7:30am
December 19, 1993

The bright winter sun blazed into Evan's room hitting him
square in the face. Groaning, he pulled the comforter up over his
eyes and tried to go back to sleep but his brain had gone into gear
and within ten minutes he gave up. Sitting up, he swore at the
lovely, flouncy curtains that looked beautiful but did very little
to keep out the light. At least the floor felt less chilly against
his bare feet than it had the night before. When he stretched he
heard his spine crack but no other sound. Evan hoped that meant
that Mulder was still sleeping. If one of them had to draw the
sunny side of the house, Evan was glad he had. The agent certainly
needed the rest more. How long to let him sleep was the question.

Evan had not come up with an answer to that question yet when,
still shaking the wisps of sleep from his brain, he turned at the
sound of a soft knock. Quickly, he finished buttoning his shirt for
the tap on his door was clearly placed too low and was too quiet to
have come from Mulder. Not surprisingly, the caller was Mrs.
Gallings. The little old woman looked endearingly apologetic in her
neat but worn dress and bulky cardigan sweater.

"I heard you moving about," she whispered. "Can we speak for
a few minutes?"

Evan looked down at his bare feet, then his eyes traveled
across the sitting room towards Mulder's partially open door. From
the look of the bed clothes the agent had barely moved during his
short night. One arm dangled off the edge of the mattress. Other
than that he lay as Evan had last seen him.

"No problem. Just give me a couple of minutes to put my shoes
on and I'll meet you downstairs."

The woman nodded, understanding, turned and went back down the
stairs as quietly as she had come.

Evan found her in a large and immaculate modern kitchen.
"Sorry to rush you," she apologized, "but I forgot to mention last
night that I have to be off early this morning. Officially I'm not
open and I promised to help dress the church for Christmas."

Evan slipped on his sports coat. It was chilly downstairs.
Looked like he was going to need to wake Mulder after all. "No
problem. We appreciate your putting us up. We'll be out of here as
quickly as we can."

"Oh, no. Take your time. Agent Mulder looks like he can use
the sleep." She indicated a registration book on the counter. "Just
sign in before you leave and lock the door behind you. I guess if
I can't trust the FBI, who can I trust. The combined price for the
rooms is fifty-five dollars. That's below my normal rate, but it's
off season and I can't provide you with the full breakfast which is
usually included." She glanced up to find clear blue eyes looking
at her intently. "What's wrong?"

Evan smiled. He had been thinking about how much she reminded
him of his great aunt and a little of his grandmother, too.
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. Check all right?"

"Check's fine. I'll write a receipt out so you can have it
for your accounting, all the businessmen ask for that." She was
moving about the room faster than Evan could follow. She had pulled
out a ledger and was scribbling out the receipt. As she wrote, she
cocked her head towards a large wicker basket sitting on the
counter. "I made you two something to take along this morning as
long as you're going to be in town."

Evan poked his nose in under the towels. There were two
thermoses, some fruit, two pint cartons of orange juice, a jar of
homemade jam and butter in a small, covered bowl, and what looked
like a dozen fist sized muffins of several varieties, also
homemade."

"You didn't have to do this," he protested.

"Nonsense. No trouble at all. I do run a Bed and Breakfast and
since I never know how many I'm going to have I make ahead and keep
a lot in the freezer. I've got three chest freezers out in the
garage. Just leave the basket and stuff with Eli - he'll see I get
it back." As she pulled on her coat, her eyes twinkled. "I warn you
though, you'll have to save Eli one of the pumpkin muffins. Tell
him his wife, Betty, says he can only have one." The old woman
picked up her purse, obviously needing to be off but she was still
thinking as she paused with her hand on the door knob. "I'm sorry.
I haven't told you yet that I hope you find your young woman and
that she'll be all right. Please let Eli know what happens, won't
you, and he'll let me know. Oh, and I've been considering places
she might have stayed. Not too many around here this time of the
year. Not tourist season, except for Canaan."

Evan shook his head. "We've been there. It's not the kind of
place where we would expect to find her." He thought back on the
evening before, the flights of wooden steps in the dark and the
cold spray from the falls. "Mulder thought Blackwater Falls might
be a likely place but the lodge there is closed for the season."

The old woman put down her purse, her pensive expression
transformed. "Now, hold on. That's not quite as true as you might
think. Normally they do close right after Thanksgiving, but they're
doing some renovations so Marjorie, she's the lodge manager there -
she also happens to be my daughter - decided to keep it open.
After all - why not? She figured if she had to have staff on site
anyway and had to heat the place, and keep the water on, why not
accept guests? I think she finally closed Saturday. When did you
say your lady friend was in the area?"

Evan's eyes went slowly wide as the meaning of her words sank
in. The dark, the chill spray, and Mulder's hushed words against
the roar of the falls came back to him. "Wh-what? Excuse me, what
did you ask?"

"What day did you say your friend might have needed a place to
stay around here?"

"Ah, Wednesday." Remembering that the current day was also
Wednesday, Evan added, "Last Wednesday. We think she also planned
to stay Thursday and maybe Friday."

Amanda grinned, the mass of wrinkles in her face deepening but
in a pleasant way as they do on the faces of those who smile often.
"There, see! Who knows? Now I'll call Marjorie. That's Marjorie
Folkes, not Gallings even though she is my daughter. Her first
husband died in a fall years ago, poor thing. I know she was going
into Charleston for some Christmas shopping today but I doubt she's
started yet - she's not a morning persona as a rule. I'll ask her
to meet you at the Lodge in, let's say, an hour and a half? That
will be about 9AM. Think you can get your Agent Mulder up and
around by then?"

********

The Lodge at Blackwater Falls State Park
Wednesday 9am

December 19, 1993

"Scully, Dana Scully," Mulder enunciated carefully. He was
leaning one elbow on the registration counter trying to read the
thick register upside down. Marjorie Gallings Folkes, a trim woman
in her early thirties with a cloud of dark, curling hair, was
thumbing her way through the pages as quickly as she could.

"I'm pretty sure there was a single woman here at about that
time," she was saying, a little apologetically. "I was very busy
with the workmen so I let Alice, the housekeeper, take care of the
few guests we had. I'm sorry it's taking so long for me to find the
entries for last week. There weren't many and I know the Scot in
Alice. If she finds a partially empty page she'll try to fill it
up." Marjorie was moving back and forth through the book with some
irritation. "It was Alice, not me, that my mother should have
called but I'll do the best I can for you. Ah, here it is." The
young woman had found the page and ran her fingers down the short
list. Even upside down Mulder had picked out the signature before
the lodge manager did and the realization made his heart stop for
a moment dead in his chest. "Yes, here it is - 'Dana Scully'." The
woman glanced up, then reddened, flustered because she found
herself staring directly into a pair of incredibly intense hazel
eyes. "Ah, Agent Mulder, there is a little confusion here. It says
she planned to stay two nights, but she only paid for one."

"Just Wednesday?" Mulder asked, his distress obvious, at least
to Evan. That left far too many days still unaccounted for. "Could
you confirm that? Did she talk to anyone? Would anyone know why she
left early or where she planned to go?"

"I'll check," Marjorie promised, her business-like manner
showing that she appreciated the seriousness of the situation. "It
may take a few minutes to track Alice down. I'll be back as soon as
I can." The young woman turned and in doing so caught Evan's eye,
where he leaned on the counter next to Mulder. Evan watched as she
retreated to a back room, tendrils of dark hair disturbed by her
rapid step, hips, below her bulky sweater, swaying in their tight
jeans.

Evan cocked an eyebrow at Mulder, both remembering the
exchange of words in the dark the evening before - "Mulder, she's
not here." - and the reply - "I know... but she was."

"This is spooky, Mulder," Evan whispered.

Appreciating the reference, Mulder leaned back against the
counter and tried to analyze what he was feeling. Relief was there,
certainly. Now at least he knew where to start. That was critical.
The news had also sent a shot of adrenaline coursing through his
veins, enough to make his head as light as two glasses of red wine.
He heard the woman's voice begin, speaking louder than at a normal
pitch. The housekeeper must be hard of hearing. Still unable to
make out the words, Mulder shifted uneasily and then began to pace.

As he passed, Evan slipped an apple-raisin muffin from
Amanda's basket into the damp hand. Evan had read the flush on the
pale cheeks and knew that once the woman returned with, hopefully,
a direction to head, they would be off and Mulder was unlikely to
slow down at that point long enough to eat. Evan dutifully placed
another in that palm each time it was empty. Thank goodness these
were good complex carbohydrates and not donuts or Fox would go
flying only to crash in about two hours. As it was, Evan wished he
knew how to keep Mulder from pacing so, the back and forth movement
was making him dizzy.

Evan was an even-tempered person - in that respect he was much
like Dana - but he was not impervious to the charge in the
atmosphere. He felt the burn of the fight-or-flight chemical in his
veins, as well as Mulder did, but knew he would never get that
manic glow that he saw in the agent's eyes at that moment. While
taking rotation in the Emergency Room as a medical student, Dr.
Byers had seen that adrenaline high on the staff often enough when
a bad case came in. No matter how terrible or life threatening, it
was still there, a primal animal response, which insulated a person
from the horror. For a brief time it prevented the doctor, the
surgeon, the policemen, from fully comprehending all the possible
consequences of his actions. In such situations indecision was
usually the worst action of all. How else could people like Dana
and Fox and the doctors Evan had known function?

Somewhere during the second muffin Mulder became aware that he
was eating and waved off a third one, settling for a cup of coffee
from the thermos. For the first time in nearly a day he found
himself really looking at Evan Byers. The big man was watchful,
alert but not wary. In other words, a man no longer frightened of
Fox Mulder. A big change from the morning before in front of
Scully's apartment building.

"You didn't need to do this," Mulder said, long hands
restlessly fingering the cup.

"What? Feed you?"

"I'm not a child. Trying to take Scully's place?" He let his
voice show he wasn't angry but a warning was there.

"Hell no. I'm just trying to do what Dana would want me to.
You used your Swiss army knife to make a new hole in your belt this
morning, didn't you?"

Mulder almost smiled. "You're good."

"I'm a researcher. FBI agents are not the only ones paid to be
observant." As Mulder drank his coffee his eyes darted towards the
room where they could still hear the woman's voice. Noticing where
Mulder's attention was directed, Evan asked, "What if she doesn't
have any news? It certainly sounds like Dana decided to come home
after only one night but never arrived. In that case, we'll almost
be right back where we started."

Mulder's eyes showed that he knew that well enough. "Let's
just wait."

The abrupt sound of the office's door opening made both Evan
and Mulder start. Eli Jonas entered. With a little too much belly
hanging over his low slung belt, mirrored sun glasses shielding his
eyes, and his service revolver hanging at his hip, he was the image
of a redneck sheriff. Mulder tensed. He had had problems enough
with local officials in the past, and though Byers spoke of his
previous evening's meeting with the officer in positive terms,
Mulder had learned to maintain his reserve until he was sure. Evan,
however, went up to the man and gave him a warm handshake, after
which Eli whipped off the glasses and hung them from the edge of
his shirt pocket.

"Amanda called me from the church. You two do start early for
city boys." The sheriff took a step forward and took Mulder by
surprise by grasping his hand in a strong friendly grip. "Hope
you're doing better this morning, Agent Mulder. We didn't have the
opportunity to meet last night. Eli Jonas, County Sheriff."

Mulder murmured the required greetings, but Eli had already
turned away to bury his hand in Amanda's wicker basket. "I take it
Marjorie is getting you some information." As his hand came up with
a golden-orange muffin, a big smile lit his rugged face.

"Only one of those," Evan admonished, recalling Amanda's
warning.

"Yeah, I remember," Jonas grumbled, taking a big bite. "Betty
has the whole town looking after me.

Mulder shook his head slightly, wondering if he had walked in
on a set of Northern Exposure. He certainly felt as if he had
missed a lot the night before. Jonas smiled, catching the movement.
"Agent Mulder, you have the look of a man who knows what I'm
talkin' about. I'll bet you've had a woman or two hell bent on
takin' care of you."

Mulder was taken so unawares, he nearly blushed remembering
with a flush of warmth how Dana and her mother had indeed enjoyed
taking care of him during his recovery. Before he could decide how
to respond, Marjorie Folkes bustled in from the back room. "Oh,
Eli," she said with relief, "I'm glad you're here. Now I won't have
go into this twice." Her expression showed she was puzzled by what
she had learned.

"Well, woman," Eli prompted, "out with it."

The young woman had turned to Mulder and Evan but paused to
throw the sheriff an irritated glance. "When you stop interrupting,
Eli, I will." When she turned back her attention was captured
immediately by Mulder's blazing eyes. Those eyes could have drawn
the information out of her by his need alone. "Sorry it took so
long but Alice's memory can't be rushed. She remembers Agent Scully
very clearly. A small, quiet woman dressed very casually. She was
surprised to find the lodge open and decided to stay as soon as she
found that it was. Alice remembers her checking in around noon.

She told Alice her family had stayed here when she was a child and
she even requested a specific room. Alice saw her going out in
hiking boots an hour later. She didn't return until almost dark."

Seeing a look of slight suspicion cross Mulder's gaunt face
the woman explained. "A little more detail than you expected? You
have to understand. Alice Mountebank is pushing ninety and she
takes a personal interest in everyone else's business as well as
her own. Agent Scully asked to use the phone later that evening.
There aren't phones in the individual rooms. That's when Alice
found that the phones weren't working. Some workman had temporarily
disconnected the line as part of the renovations and never hooked
it back up. Alice says Ms. Scully looked really down, like she had
been crying. Alice apologized and told her that the closest phone
was about six miles away, outside Ed's Tackle and Bait but it was
a chilly night and your friend elected just to stay in. Alice
brought Ms. Scully a cup of tea later and remembers that she seemed
calmer but still disappointed."

Marjorie could sense the polite impatience in the three men
and moved along quickly. The tone of her voice said clearly that
this was the critical part of the story. "The next morning Agent
Scully came to Alice and asked about camping out." She noted the
startled reaction of the two younger men, especially the
dark one. "She asked if people were allowed to stay in the
shelters. There are stone shelters," Marjorie explained, "along
some of the trails, near where the best overlooks are. She must
have seen them the day before during her hike. Alice told her that
sleeping out was allowed but that it got very cold and she hoped
your friend had a good sleeping bag. Agent Scully laughed and said
she didn't have a sleeping bag at all, that she had not come
intending to sleep out but had decided on impulse that she would if
she could find the right equipment. Alice gave her directions to
Ed's Tackle and Bait - Ed also sells camping and hiking gear. Then
she checked out. We have her credit card receipt if you want to see
it. Your friend even apologized for leaving a day earlier than she
expected and offered to pay for both but Alice wouldn't hear of
it."

Mulder's face was grim, but less dark than before. Having
something to work with, somewhere to go, ever so slightly eased the
rigid tension between his shoulders. He addressed the next question
to both the young woman and Eli. "Which trail? Which shelter could
she have been talking about?"

"She didn't take her car Wednesday afternoon," Marjorie said,
"but she did take it on Thursday. Two trails leave from here which
have shelters and she probably hiked along one of them. Since she
didn't come back here on Thursday, she must have parked at one of
the other access points. Eli knows where they are, but you should
check with Ed first to see if he knows more."

"Come with me," Jonas offered, speaking specifically to
Mulder. "I'll take you to Ed's." Mulder, brain already working on
the implications, followed. Evan turned to thank Amanda's dark-
haired daughter.

"May I ask a question?" Marjorie asked Evan before he could
follow the others out the door. "This woman -"

Evan looked down at the surface of the well-worn wooden
counter. "She's a person, she has a name. Dana."

The dark-haired, young woman's voice was soft, penitent. "I'm
sorry. Dana. You and she were very close?"

"You could say so." Evan's broad face showed that he thought
the relationship was close.

She cocked her head in the direction of the parking lot. "And
Agent Mulder?"

"To be honest," Evan admitted, "Dana was more like a sister to
me. To Mulder - much, much more."

The horn of a truck blew impatiently. Evan made a reach for
the basket but Marjorie already had her hand on it and was
extending it towards him. Their hands brushed briefly on the
handle. Evan found himself staring into incredibly wide dark eyes.
"I hope you find her," Marjorie said earnestly.

Evan backed away with the basket, his eyes still on the young
woman's attractive face and body. He was experiencing a wave of
confusion such as he had not felt in a long time. Even Dana had
never had this effect on him.

Mulder was waiting in the back seat of the cab of Jonas's huge
pickup, long legs sprawled along the seat. He shared a long glance
with Evan as the physician climbed in. That look and the position
Mulder had taken in the truck told Evan two things - that Mulder
trusted him to sit beside the sheriff and deal with the locals, and
that he wanted to be free of the part of this investigation that
did not focus directly on finding Dana. They had found the maze.
Evan readily appreciated that it might be only the first step of
the maze, but at least they had found it, a place to start.
Mulder's meaning-laden glance had, in a way, passed the ball.
Special Agent Mulder had been the focus in the lodge office, now
Doctor Byers, FDA, could make small talk until they got to the next
turn in the maze. Evan didn't mind. He was content to push along
the subplot, to keep the wheels turning on the straight-away and
freely turn over the major decisions to Mulder. Evan had a tingling
that the pace had just started to heat up and there was no doubt in
his mind that once Mulder had the scent that Evan would find that
there was a lot of the fox hound in Fox.

End of Book II, chapter 9

=====================================================================
======

JUST THE TWO OF US: Book II Mulder and Evan (10/14)
By S. Esty (AKA Windsinger@aol.com)

Chapter 10

Deacon's Chapel, West Virginia
Wednesday, 9:30am
December 19, 1993

Ed's Tackle and Bait may have started out as a fishing store
but over the years the Ed had gradually expanded its services. Now
from its comfortable clutter he sold hunting and fishing licenses,
rifles and ammunition, camping gear, basic groceries and fuel for
either your boat, your camp stove, your propane lamp or your car.
He also ran a snack bar of sorts. A large man with an open face, Ed
could have been Eli's twin. In fact, as Evan found out later, they
were first cousins. Together with Evan's natural height and mass
and weight lifter shoulders and neck, Mulder could not remember
when he had last been in the company of three men who, physically,
made him feel quite so insignificant. All three were currently
greeting each other in a loud, gregarious manner. Evan Byers,
Mulder realized with some surprise, was turning out to be the
perfect chameleon. Quiet to match Dana's quiet, but completely at
ease with the male exuberance of these men. He certainly seemed to
fit right in, all of which made Mulder feel the loss of Dana's
contemplative silence and comfortable, unassuming presence even
more.

But for intensity Mulder took the back seat to no one. When he
felt that enough time had been spent on pleasantries, he
impatiently asked the store keeper about a small red-haired woman
who had shopped at his store. Smiles faded and a concentrated
stillness settled over the group.

"Sure I remember her. She was a little thing, traveling by
herself." Ed's attitude showed he was surprised by that. "She was
reserved, like city people are, but I knew she wasn't just any
tourist. She didn't come in and window shop like most of them do.
She knew exactly what she wanted. And she had a nice smile. I
remember that. When I asked her if she was afraid about spending
the night on the mountain alone, she just gave me this smile."

Unbidden, the image of that smile formed before Mulder's inner
eye, but brought no comfort.

He forced his focus back upon the storekeeper. "She told you
she was going camping?"

"Not in so many words. I gathered that from what she bought -
a good down sleeping bag, a local trail map, a few groceries, an
aluminum pan, matches, and a small propane lamp. Also by the
questions she asked about camp fire regulations in the forests. I
told her what she wanted to know and then warned her that if she
was going to sleep up there to at least use one of the shelters."
Jonas shot Ed a warning glance at that which Mulder from his
position could not see but Evan did. "Oh, yes, I remember her," Ed
continued and this time his smile showed that he knew how to
appreciate a woman. "She had spunk. And now you tell me she's FBI
and a partner of yours?" The storekeeper examined Mulder critically
and clearly saw the same focused strength the woman had shown. "Now
that I've seen you both I can believe it. "

Eli Jonas hooked his thumbs in his wide belt. "She spent
Wednesday night at the lodge, Ed, before she came here. No one has
seen her since. You sure there isn't anything else you remember?"

"She hasn't been seen since then? No, not a thing, and, Eli,
you know I'd tell you if I knew." The man seemed honestly
apologetic. "If I can get anything to pop into my brain later, I'll
let you know."

"Well, I'm taking these two up on the mountain to look for her
car." The sheriff turned around, to stare at the packed community
bulletin board and the surrounding wall space which was also
covered with notices. "You know, Ed, it seems odd to me that you
don't know anything about this. Where's the picture of the lady I
sent Rick over with yesterday afternoon for you to post?"

Ed looked blank then bent down and hastily began searching
through the items on his cluttered counter. "I don't know anything
about any picture. I took off early. My grandkids wanted me to take
them out in the woods to cut down a Christmas tree. I left Pete in
charge."

"Pete? That half wit? He'd spend the day looking for his own
fingers if they weren't attached."

While Jonas talked, Ed had continued his search among the
debris. "Oh. Here it is." Ed pulled the notice out from between a
stack of fishing and wildlife magazines. There were grease spots on
it and rings of coffee stains. "At least Pete seems to have taken
his time looking at it. Ed, I'm sorry. It got buried in the mail.
I would have recognized her, too." The storekeeper seemed genuinely
distressed.

"Don't worry, Ed," Eli soothed. "Only a few hours lost."

Evan looked over at Mulder's tense and clearly unhappy
expression and hoped a few hours was not going to matter in the
long run.

"Here's a replacement," Jonas was saying, pushing over one of
the copies. "Will you post it for us? And please ask everyone who
comes in if they've seen her, all right?"

"No problem, Eli." The storekeeper turned his eyes on Mulder
as the three turned to leave. "I hope you find her. She was a
pretty woman. Sad though."

Mulder turned and followed Eli out, head slightly bowed. For
the second time in half an hour he had been reminded of how unhappy
Scully had looked. He did not need that particular knife twisted
any more.

********

Two hiking trails left the area of the Blackwater Falls Lodge
and wound up into the State Park to eventually be swallowed up by
the National Forest. Eli drove. The roads were narrow and closed in
by trees, many of them pines whose foliage trapped most of the
winter sun before it could reach the ground. Evan was hunched over
in the front seat, lacing up new boots he had picked up at Ed's.
The shoes he had been wearing were old, worn dress shoes which he
had thrown on before going over to Mulder's apartment Monday night.
It felt like weeks had passed since then, not less than two days.
He moved his toes experimentally. Even if they did not find Dana's
car, Mulder would want to pace the trail, looking for the shelter
and any signs of her. At least Evan felt somewhat better equipped
than before.

Mulder sat forward in the back seat, eyes intent on what could
be seen through the front windshield. At the moment there was only
a grey winding road, barren tree limbs and the occasional stand of
evergreen. Evan could almost hear the agent's breath in his ear.

Eli was talking. "Marjorie says that Alice in convinced that
Agent Scully found a particular view she liked when she was out
hiking on Wednesday. That's what gave her the idea to camp out.
Since she mentioned the shelters to Alice and Ed mentioned the
shelters to her I'm making some assumptions that she had one of
those in mind. Does this seem reasonable to you?"

"From the information we've gotten today, yes," Mulder agreed
but Evan's brow furrowed at the words. The qualification meant
Mulder had more on his mind but Evan would ask about that later
when they were alone.

"Which are the two trails that pass by the lodge?" Mulder
asked leaning back in the seat and consulting the trail map Evan
had picked up when he bought his boots.

"The Buck River Trail and the Storn Ridge Trail," Eli replied.
"Both have shelters on them. I'm guessing the Buck River Trail. The
views are more spectacular. She'd need something like one of those
to get her to consider spending a night out in as cold of weather
as we've been having."

No comment from the back seat on this. When Evan looked over
his shoulder the hooded dark eyes were expressionless.

If Eli sensed Mulder's tension, he didn't pry. "We're coming
up on the first access point. This is actually for the Storn Ridge
trail but it's on our way." Eli had driven for ten minutes from
Ed's to find this. There was just a grassy area carved out of the
trees, room for a half dozen cars, though there were none parked
there now, a single picnic table, a sign announcing the trail and
a thin, dark path leading under the pine tree boughs.

"Nothing," Eli noted without even getting out of the truck.
"Well, I didn't really expect to find anything. Ed says she didn't
have a true back packing frame. Without one it's a very long hike
from here for a small woman to carry a backpack, sleeping bag and
such to the area where the shelters are. No, if anything I would
expect her to drive up further first. Besides, if she wanted to
take the long way I would have expected her to leave the car at the
Lodge because it was more familiar."

Neither Mulder nor Evan mentioned that she would not want to
park too far away in case she had a sudden urge to make a quick
return to Washington, but both had the same idea.

Eli drove up and up, back and forth along the switchbacks. The
road became at the same time both more narrow and rougher. They
checked four more access points. They found some parked cars but
none was Dana's.

After twenty minutes of driving, Eli rounded a bend in the
road and the forest pulled back revealing a larger camping area
than any they had seen before. There was a picnic shelter here and
half a dozen cars. Mulder felt the hairs on the back on his neck
rise. He recognized one of the cars even before he could make out
the license plate. One sitting off by itself. Evan noticed it too.
Eli did not even have to ask that they had found what they had come
to find. With his jaw clenched tight he followed the direction of
their eyes to the blue Saturn.

Eli's pickup was one of the big ones with four doors. Mulder
was out of the back door before Eli had even pulled to a stop.

The car was empty, that was no surprise. Mulder stood unmoving
beside the blue paint, glass and chrome, unmoving except for those
eyes which soaked in every possible tale the scene revealed. The
razor-sharp mind analyzed the amount of dust on the windshield, the
size of the pile of dry, brittle leaves heaped up around the tires,
the depth of pine straw on the roof, hood and lying against the
wiper blades.

"This hasn't been moved for days," Mulder snapped in tones
which were accusing but checked in a harsh whisper. He turned on
the sheriff. "Wouldn't someone think it suspicious for a car to be
parked up here, then abandoned, since Thursday?"

Eli felt the anger but being sympathetic with its source,
replied without heat, "In the summer not so unusual. This time of
year, very unusual, but we've had a lot of budget cutbacks in the
park service. They have only one full-time ranger during this time
of year for probably several hundred square miles. Looking after
abandoned cars is not his number one priority. If someone is
reported missing, then he would look. Otherwise, it could just be
from a winter camper who's decided to hike up to the primitive
area. We have a few fools."

Evan did not like the expression on Mulder's face. The cheeks
were drawn, the eyes burned like coals, the lips moved ever so
slightly as though he was speaking softly to himself. The agent was
circling the car now, still making no move to try any of the doors.
Evan looked and saw they were locked. At the rear hatchback door
Mulder stopped for a long time. With quick steps he headed back to
Eli's truck and pulled out a box the size of a large tackle box
which he had transferred from Evan's Blazer and stashed behind the
front seat. He pulled out a pair of latex gloves and snapped them
on as he headed back to the Saturn.

A closer examination of the hatchback lock showed what Mulder
had suspected from the first. Scratches. Definite scratches. Ice
water settled uneasily in his stomach. "The rear door has been
broken into," Mulder announced, "and not by a professional. An
amateur." Jonas was at his side in a second. The sheriff was not
surprised to see the agent pull out what was clearly his own set of
keys and moving very carefully so as not to disturb any possible
fingerprints, slowly opened the hatch.

Tense shoulders relaxed slightly as the door swung up,
revealing the small storage compartment. Two suitcases sat inside.
They were opened and their contents strewn about in disorder.

"Agent Scully wouldn't have left her things this way," Mulder
said in a voice chilling in its lack of expression. "She's very
orderly."

Evan was peering through the passenger side window. "There are
items on the front seat and on the floor which should be in the
glove compartment," he reported, his voice none too steady.

Mulder gave a curt nod of acknowledgement and went back to the
study of the remains of the luggage. When necessary he lifted the
objects with gloved hands, almost reverently. "There's not much
here. Her backpack is gone, as is the new sleeping bag Ed says she
bought. Also the water bottle and food. Her suitcases have been
rifled. It's hard to tell what's missing, but I would say not much,
except for items she would have wanted with her for an overnight in
the woods. All the warm clothes are gone and, naturally, the
camping gear."

"Shit," Eli growled. His high forehead had been dark and
furrowed ever since the scratches on the lock had been found.

Mulder raised green flecked eyes to him. "You expected this?"

"Let's just say I'm not surprised. Lately I'm afraid we've had
a rash of such break ins. Always against the tourists."

"Lately?" Mulder asked.

"More often in the summer but then there are more tourists in
the summer. I thought for a while we were having a regular crime
wave, a crime wave for around here anyways, but it's been less the
last couple of months. I thought it was just a phase. The kids have
gotten riled up. Someone new has become a bad influence. Probably
drugs. Ain't it always the way. But like I said it's been better
lately. If this follows the other patterns, the ones who broke in
here are only looking for ready cash or traveler's checks which a
person on vacation might leave in a car when they go out on the
trails."

"That would explain why all the camping gear is gone," Mulder
said, head down, no longer anxious to touch the remnants of her
clothes. More of the little satin underthings that he had first
seen in the drawers in her apartment he did not need to see.

Evan was at his side, hoping to be supportive. "So you think
someone broke in after she headed off?"

"Yes, which could mean that Scully's disappearance is
completely unrelated to the break in. I don't believe that though,
I don't believe in those kind of coincidences."

"So assuming she camped out Thursday night, are you thinking
she may have run into the thieves Friday morning?" Evan asked.

"I'm afraid to say it," Eli interjected, "but it's more likely
her out-of-state license was noticed down the mountain, maybe while
it was parked at Ed's, and she was followed up here." The sheriff
stroked his chin. "The kids here aren't perfect but I don't see
them doing anything violent. Stupid maybe. They would have waited
until she packed up her gear and took off. However, if she forgot
something and came back unexpectedly and caught them with their
hands in the cookie jar - who knows? I assume she carries a gun?"
Eli's suggestion was clear enough. Terrified, guilty teens and a
sharp, trained policewoman, who had a gun she was not afraid to
show, was a bad combination. This was especially true if, surprised
by the youth and experience of the teens, the woman hesitated to
use force.

Mulder straightened up form his examination of the contents of
the luggage area, to glare unhappily at the forest. "Sheriff Jonas,
we're going to need a search party." The voice was cold as all
Mulder' words had been since they had found the car. "And the best
people you can get to retrieve trace evidence from the scene. I'm
certain they'll be able to lift a print from the car."

Jonas nodded, words unnecessary, and lumbered back to his
truck. In a few seconds he could be heard calling his office from
the radio.

Mulder rolled the gloves off and dropped heavily down onto a
log several feet from the car. To Evan it seemed as though the
weight of the brooding forest had settled over the agent's

shoulders.

"Mulder?"

From here the enormous woods filled the his view. "Back in
Washington you accused me of hurting her."

Evan also sat on the log but not too closely. "I was scared
for her, worried," he told Mulder. "I didn't know you very well,
only that Dana was worried that you were out of your head. I
thought you were capable of anything. I thought you were jealous of
me."

"I WAS jealous of you, I WAS out of my head, I AM capable of
anything. Well, almost anything. For a while there I even believed
I could have done what you suspected."

"But you know you didn't."

"I have a history of failing those I care about." Mulder kept
staring at the canopy of the forest, tier upon tier green and brown
stretching on seemingly forever. At ground level, however, he knew
the surface of the earth was broken by rocks and hollows, cliffs
and streams. "By the way, I finally contacted the bar where I spent
my final 'almost' conscious hours Monday night. I called while you
were getting gas yesterday afternoon. Les' two sons did drive me
home. They used my own keys to get into my apartment, rolled my
body onto the couch, extracted twenty bucks from my wallet for
their trouble, and more for the cab fare back home." Mulder's smile
was not happy or friendly. "I'm cursed with a mind that looks at
every possibility. EVERY one. Despite everything, I still had some
doubt - until now."

Evan prayed to God that he would never have such doubts.

Mulder scuffed a toe of his black wing tips in the dirt and
leaves. He had worn his suit that morning. He represented the FBI,
he needed to look the part. Especially today. Who knew what could
still happen today?

"I know that I didn't hurt her, but at this moment I almost
wish I had. "

"For God's sake why?" Evan exclaimed.

Mulder's eyes did not stray from the wall of vegetation. "So
I would know where she was, what happened. I could even wish she
really had gone with you."

"Thanks a lot, Mulder. So what makes going with me a fate
worse than death?" There was no humor in the big man's voice.

There was a pause while neither spoke. Mulder continued to
stare into the forest with such intensity that Evan looked there as
well, trying to see whatever it was his companion did. "This looks
bad, Evan," Mulder said with infinite sadness. At the end he looked
directly into the blond man's handsome, broad face.

"I'm sorry," was all Evan could think to say.

Mulder stood up suddenly, body taut, anxious. "I can't sit
here. Let's get going."

They checked the edges of the parking area where the trees
ended, looking for any break in grass or scrub or bush that seemed
unexpected. Nothing. Eli met them as they returned to where the
trail entered the parking area. "The search party you asked for is
being assembled as we speak. They're volunteers, but experienced.
We get several children lost in these woods every summer. They know
what they're doing. Evidence team from Charleston is on its way. I
gather you're going out on the trail." The sheriff did not even
wait for an answer because he had not asked a question. Instead, he
passed the agent a hand-held radio. "Here, you'll need this so we
can stay in contact. Your cellular is dead weight here." He showed
them the controls. "Click on to call the office. You don't need any
fancy codes. Bertha on the switch board will know you're with me.
Push down the button to speak, raise up to listen. Dirt simple."

"We're not quite that young," Mulder protested, as though
insulted that the older man would think he didn't know how to
operate a walkie-talkie.

"Never hurts to be sure," Eli replied without taking offense,
then pointed along the trail at their back. "Now this is just a
feeder line. The real Buck River Trail is a few hundred yards in.
When you get to a 'Y' intersection take the left fork. Five miles
or so up the way that dead ends into the Storn Mountain trail. I
sure as hell hope you find something before then or we're talking
a lot of territory to cover. The Storn Mountain Trail goes into the
next county and eventually connects to the Monongahelia National
Forest system."

When there was nothing left to discuss, Eli drove off to
organized his search parties and Mulder and Evan headed in under
the trees, following the access trail until it joined the main one.
As they walked, their eyes searched from side to side, side to side
until Evan grew dizzy. The going was slow. At least there was
bright winter sun which helped when looking for matted grass that
should not be matted. The foot prints in the old mud, however, were
all shapes and sizes and could belong to anyone. Evan felt the
impossibility of what they were trying to do. It was like looking
for one particular puzzle piece in a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle
of the sky, just a blue sky. And all the puzzle pieces were the
same and all different.

End of Chapter 10

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