Interstate 15
Beaverhead County, Montana
October 25
5:30 pm
"Our killer?" Mulder exclaimed. "Scully, aren't you being a little presumptuous?"
She turned to him in astonishment. "Mulder, you, of all people, are asking me that? You?"
He looked slightly offended. "Look, Scully, as far as I'm concerned we're just going for a normal interview to follow up on our admittedly unorthodox one with the Holtz family. I'm not going to presume that someone we've never even talked is the killer simply because he's had a tragic life."
She exhaled in derision. "Oh, but you're perfectly willing to do that with Jude. I see."
"I only said that Jude needed consideration as a suspect, just as John Holtz does. I just thing that you are letting your personal involvement with Jude impede your judgment, and-"
"Mulder, John Holtz is worth more than consideration! He fits your own profile perfectly. He is the perfect age, has been severely damaged by Hoffman; his mother's attempted suicide, his brother's death, the complete and utter destruction of his family... Also, Mary Holtz made it fairly clear that John was obsessed with Hoffman. Did you see that living room, Mulder? Did you see that family?" She stopped for a furious breath. "He is at school in Utah, Mulder. He had the opportunity, the means, the motive. What else do you want from a suspect? Maybe we should just wait for another tiny boy to die before we even go!"
His eyes hard, Mulder turned away from her and stared out the window. They continued in silence for a long time, past mountains and farms, threading along the nearly deserted freeway. Scully felt guilt begin to gnaw at her, but for now, pride won out. He had been unfairly prejudiced toward Jude all along, she told herself determinedly, but the rational side, the fair side, the side, she realized with a pang, that Mulder had first fallen in love with, was telling her the truth. She knew that her feelings of guilt and responsibility and affection toward the boy had blinded her to reasonable questioning of his innocence. She felt in her gut that he was innocent, but guts are not enough when you have the responsibility of solving a crime.
She turned to Mulder, taking her eyes off the road to gaze at his features. She bit her lip slightly and began: "Mulder, I-" but he immediately cut her off.
"You have to call Alex. You said you would explain yourself to him."
Hurt, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number for their Salt Lake City office. Alex Paring picked up on the third ring.
"Paring speaking."
"Alex? It's Scully. How are things going for you?"
"Fine. We've just come back from interviewing the family of Matthew Carmichael, in Scipio, Millard County."
Scully remembered a glossy photo of a redheaded boy, who bore a startling resemblance to her little brother Charlie. "Anything?"
"No, he didn't even have any siblings. The family are still grieving, but they're moving on. But, Scully, you care to explain that phone call from before?"
Scully related the whole of the interview with the Holtzes, and, acutely aware that Mulder was listening, made the account as rational and unprejudiced as she could. Paring was quiet for a while, and when he spoke his words were halting.
"God... That's horrific. John certainly seems to fit the profile, and I'm with you in suspecting him. Do you want Dan and I to come to Price with you, maybe meet you there?"
"If you're not too busy, maybe you could meet us to talk it over after we interview him. We'll call when we get closer."
"All right. Drive safely."
Scully hung up the phone, and turned to Mulder, but his face and eyes were closed and remote, as inaccessible to her as when they had first met, so she turned back to the road and drove in silence until her eyes were scratchy with dehydration and they were somewhere in the lower land of central Idaho. At the next off-ramp she exited and pulled into the roadside motel. Mulder registered them without a word to her, and once inside they dressed for bed in silence. The silence was beginning to hurt Scully's ears like something tangible, like being deep underwater.
As she slid into the lumpy bed beside him, everything seemed to rush back to her in a roar and crash like floodwater, flotsam of grief and horror smashing into her body as she recalled in desperate detail everything since the sweating cadet at Quantico had delivered the message that Mulder wanted to see her. Images and sounds, even textures assaulted her; the yellowed news clippings, the glint of her scalpel, the cold give and take of lifeless flesh, and above it all the unearthly, perfect choirboy voice of James Mortimer, singing the soundtrack of this abominable epilogue to his and the others' terrible deaths.
She felt her body began to shake, and like a lifeline she felt the beautiful warmth of Mulder's arm reach out and pull her to him.
"I said," he whispered, his voice rough, "that you wouldn't have to be alone. I mean that. And... oh, Scully, I don't want to be alone any more than you do."
She turned in his arms and buried her face in against his shoulder, her hands moving in soothing circles over his body, just as he had once done for her in the height of her distress, four years ago, in the cold of a bathroom stall.
In time, distress faded from their minds, and at last their bodies relaxed into sleep.
- - - -
College of Eastern Utah
Price, Carbon County
October 26
4: 21 pm
Scully and Mulder walked along the dingy hallway, searching for room number 341, John Holtz's room. The carpet was sticky and the walls were smudged, and through it all ran a faint current of muted rock music. Mulder smiled and raised his eyebrows.
"It reminds me of my college days. Unspeakable stains, unspeakable music, unspeakable women..."
Scully looked at him sideways. "Mulder, you were at Oxford. How unspeakable could it have been?"
"You'd be surprised."
She rolled her eyes, and then crossed the hallway suddenly. "Here it is, Mulder. It's his room." When he was firmly in place beside her, she collected herself and knocked quickly. There was no answer, so she knocked again and tried calling out. "John? John Holtz? Are you there?" Even to herself, her voice sound shrill and nervous. After some more knocking, a door opened across the hall and a head poked out.
"You looking for that John guy?" its disheveled owner asked. "'Cause he's not here."
Mulder turned. "When did he leave? Do you know for how long?"
"No... He just left this morning. I figured he was leaving for the weekend or something."
"Do you know John?" Scully asked.
"No, not really. I mean, we've been on the same floor, across the hall from each other, for the last year and a bit, but I don't know much about him except his name and that he hates going home. He let that slip once. I got him to go out with a whole group of us this one time, but he never said a word and all the girls said he creeped them out, so that was a bust."
"Does he ever bring anyone back here?"
"Not that I've seen."
Mulder took a step toward him and scribbled something on the back of a business card. "Listen... Sorry, I didn't get your name."
"Dave. Dave Young."
"Listen, Dave, can you give me a call at this number when John gets back? It's important that we know when he is. He's not in any trouble, we just need to talk to him."
"Can do."
As they started to walk away, Scully turned back. "Mr. Young?"
"Yeah?"
"Has John been away a lot during the last few weeks? Suddenly, like this?"
"Yeah, but it's only ever for a few days. Three at the most, usually only one. But all the time, yeah."
"Thank you, you've been a great help."
Mulder opened the door to the dorm and consulted his map of the campus. "I think we should visit the records office first, and see if any of John's absences coincide with days of disappearances or of deaths and body disposals."
Scully nodded and pulled out her cell phone.
"This is Dan Morris."
"Dan, its Dana. How are you doing on your end?"
"We've talked to three of his professors, all of whom say that he is shy, uncommunicative, not terribly bright, and frequently absent. What did the man himself have to say?"
"He wasn't there. The boy across the hall said that he had been away since yesterday, and relayed approximately the same characteristics as the professors. We're going to check his attendance records now."
"All right. Alex and I will meet you soon, once we've spoken to a few more teachers."
"Dan..." Scully avoided Mulder's gaze for a moment. "How's Jude?"
"When I left this morning he seemed subdued, but not overtly disturbed. He wasn't crying or shouting or anything, and was managing to have a decent conversation with Janie. They're about the same age, so she's been trying to make him feel better by talking with him."
"Thank you, Dan, for taking care of him. It means..."
"I know, Dana. I'll see you later."
She hung up the phone, and Mulder smiled lopsidedly at her. "I'm sorry, Scully," he said softly, "that I don't feel the way you do about him."
"Oh, Mulder, it's not you who should be sorry."
They entered the records office a few minutes later, and presented themselves at the desk, badges out.
"Ma'am, we'd like to obtain a student's attendance record, please," Mulder said.
"Sorry, sir, but I can't give that out without authorization."
Scully leaned forward slightly. "We are conducting a federal investigation. It is a felony to impede us." Inwardly, she had to admit with an internal smile that that was one of her favorite investigative lines.
The woman behind the desk blinked, and then gestured toward the adjacent computer lab. "I'll log you in."
Once she was gone, Scully entered 'Holtz, John Francis' into the search, and a long list of absences immediately scrolled across the screen. "Look, Mulder," Scully whispered. "They almost all date from after late September. Matthew Hughes was abducted on October 9th, so that leaves enough time for him to have 'cased', if you will, the Holderman's house beforehand."
"Scully..." Mulder warned in a low voice.
"Also, there is an absence from October 8th to 10th as well. There's one on the 19th, the day his body was found, and also ones on the 20th and 23rd, the days of Simon Brigham's kidnapping and of the dumping of his body. There's one missed class the afternoon of the 22nd."
"Scully..." Mulder looked at her, his eyes wide, fearful and excited at the same time. "Print this out and let's find Alex and Dan. I think it's time to go to AD Chilton and get a search warrant, maybe even an arrest warrant."
Scully printed out three copies of the record, then they hurried out onto the campus lawn. Mulder spotted the other two agents coming out of a building across the courtyard, and the hurried toward them, thrusting the document out before them in triumph. The other two examined the paper, and then their eyes lit with glee.
"Hot damn!" Alex exclaimed. "Hot damn, have we got him!"
Scully laughed, remembering a sunny day in Cranden four years before, when Alex Paring had let slip identical words in similar triumph. Light and smiling together for the first time since reuniting, the agents walked together through the crisp fall air to the parking lot, where they drove in convoy back to Salt Lake City.
- - - -
FBI Field Office
400 South St.
October 26
6:52 pm
"Yes sir. Yes sir, I understand. Thank you very much, sir. Goodbye for now."
Assistant Director George Chilton put down the phone and smiled widely at the four agents on the other side of his desk. "Well," he said after a moment. "That was the final call. You're clear to go ahead."
Scully felt an unrestrained smile burst out on her face. Dan clapped his hands together, and Scully saw Mulder clasp Paring's shoulder. "Thank you, sir," she said feelingly.
Chilton straightened his tie and leaned across the desk. "Listen. I want you to proceed very carefully. There will be no screw ups with legalities like last time, no spontaneous arrests based on theories, are we clear?"
"Yes sir," they all replied. Scully felt a flush tinge her cheeks. She was still ashamed and guilty about what had happened with Hoffman; she still wondered if they could have spared Jude his torment.
The older man relaxed, shook all their hands with real warmth, and then dismissed them. Scully strode out of Chilton's office, followed closely by Dan, Mulder and Alex. Her heart was beating rapidly; anxiety and joy chased through her body, leaving her feeling alternately shaken and fortified.
After a careful presentation of the evidence, the agents had convinced Chilton to get on the phone with the upstairs authorities, and, after a tense hour or so, had obtained a search warrant for John Holtz and his room, as well as a guarantee of a fast-tracked arrest warrant if it was needed.
They got into the elevator and went down to the basement, walking past large gray filing cabinets and to the door of their office.
"Right," Dan said. "I'll start organizing a strategy of surveillance, and Mulder and Alex should start a list of things that we should look for in Holtz's apartment. Dana, if you could get a hold of more of his school records and go over the area maps, you might be able to determine where he might be using as his hideaway."
"I can include my autopsy reports," Scully added. "There was a pebble in Matthew's right shoulder that I knew would be useful eventually."
They all set down to work, and as Scully did she felt it all coming together. For once, she was working under normal conditions, without fear or pain or immediate danger. As she looked back and forth between the documents before her, the connections began to be made, solid and concrete, interlocking in the perfect way evidence can.
She looked at the area map again. There is that bridge... she thought slowly, but her concentration was suddenly broken by the harsh jangling ring of a phone only inches away. Scully jumped hard, and her heart began to race. Lately, it had never been a good thing when the phone rang.
"Scully."
"Dana?"
It took Scully a moment to recognize the voice, but once she did panic began to set in. "Peggy? What's wrong?" Dan's head snapped to attention across the dingy room. A moment to listen to the ragged breathing on the other end of the line, and then Scully put her on speakerphone and spoke her fear. "Peggy, what's wrong with the children?"
"Oh god, Dana, it's Jude. He's missing." Scully felt her heart stop, and the woman continued. "Apparently he's been missing since the first class after lunch. There was some horrible mix up, and the school called the Holdermans' house to report it. Of course there was no one there, so no one even knew until a few minutes ago."
Scully felt faint, covered with a weak static buzzing, and she stared ineffectually at the phone. "Can you hang on a minute, Peg? I've got someone on the other line." She pressed the transfer button, and it clicked over to the other line. Suddenly, with force, Rob's voice was projected into the room.
"Dana? Oh my god, Dana, you've got to help us."
"Rob, what is it?"
"Oh god... Dana, you remember my nephew Thomas?" The air in the room was suddenly thick and cold. "Oh, sweet lord... He didn't come home from school. He's gone."