As Mulder passed through the hallway after Scully, his eyes were looking over the cabinet with the Thomas family and surrounding area. There, along the baseboard of the wall, traveling all along the room, were tiny carvings. They were perfectly embedded into the wood, each character more intricate then the last. He interpreted the first few as a man firing an arrow at a dragon, then a woman drawing liquid from a giant eye; as he continued they became more and more complex to comprehend.
"Ah hem."
From behind, Green had his arms crossed over his chest and he gestured sarcastically toward the front door.
Mulder started to move but stopped and pointed toward his discovery. "What are those? They look like Incan protection spells."
Green's defensive anger visibly quelled for a moment at Mulder's interest. "They are. Not bad, Mr. Mulder."
Mulder smiled, "I've done a little research into the subject. And call me Fox."
Green's brow wrinkled, "What the hell kind of name is 'Fox'?"
Before he could answer, Scully called to him from the porch. Mulder sighed, "We'll keep in touch."
Green gave a short smile himself. "Come back soon." His tone was soaked in sarcasm.
He followed the agent to the door and gave a short wave before closing the door. Mulder returned it, and set down the porch steps, where he spotted Scully off by the windows to the living room. As he approached her, he realized her gaze was going over the house intently.
"What's up?"
Scully's eyes crossed the upstairs windows to the front door. "Mulder what do you see here?"
"A Victorian style, three story, rural mansion circa nineteen thirty-nine?"
Scully met his gaze. "I see peeling paint, structure damaging weeds and root, dangerously old and rotten porch struts and an overall sense of awaiting demolishment."
She was right. The house had once been painted a dull magenta that after decades of weather damage had turned it almost gray. The porch, at a certain angle, appeared slanted, like a heavy weight could dislodge it from the entire foundation. He spotted the aforementioned plants digging and breaking through the cement foundation. Mulder imagined Green Thomas hacking through a jungle of vines and shrubs with a machete to finally reach the washer and dryer at the back of what was once his basement.
"So? It's an old house, what do you expect?"
Scully frowned, "The inside of that house was immaculate. No dust, cracks, scent of mildew. The floorboards didn't even squeak, Mulder. Not to mention it seemed like a cleaning crew had been through there. Teenagers are messy, they're disorganized and lazy. Nothing in that home suggests a teenager lives there."
Mulder pursed his lips. "So….Green Thomas is quite a neat freak. So what?"
Scully pointed at the house. "The outside of this house doesn't match it's inside. Especially considering that ONLY a male teen lives there. No one person can manage a home that big for that long without some kind of help."
"You're saying that Green Thomas isn't alone in that house."
"Precisely. And I think that given his reputation, his odd collection of family mementos and from what he's told to us as , at the very least, an interest in the occult, I'd say we've still got a prime suspect."
Mulder turned back toward the large home, then to his partner. "Let's at least be sure Mr. Thomas even knows how to perform any kind ritual like what we saw back the library."
Scully pushed back her hair, "Where should we start?"
"Why don't we find out who bought that cocaine you found?"
