Chapter Three
Flagstaff Police Department, Flagstaff, AZ
September 22nd, 2000, 8:49 p.m.
"This is Caroline Connelly, of Cornerstone Elementary, the school Aaron Troxler and Theresa Samuels attend. She's a long term substitute while they try to find someone permanent," Detective Gardener told Doggett outside of the questioning room. "Used to be an art teacher beforehand."
"How long have the kids been in school?" Doggett inquired.
"I don't know...maybe since the beginning of this month. It's been a long while since I've been in school. We used to get summers off and start school in the fall when I was a kid."
"I'll ask her then." He pushed the door open for her and shut it behind them after they filed in. "Ms. Connelly, I'm Special Agent Doggett with the FBI, and this is Detective Gardener. We'd like to ask you about a couple of students of yours, if you wouldn't mind."
The woman was in her mid-20's and her crimson hair was coifed short into an Italian bob. Her hazel eyes seemed just as harmless as a deer but her arms were crossed impatiently. "I've been sitting here for the past half hour waiting for you," Connelly remarked. "I've got papers to grade at home, you know."
"We apologize, Ms. Connelly. Thank you for taking your time to speak with us," Doggett acknowledged her.
"Well ask your damn questions and get them over with," Connelly spat.
"You teach third grade at Cornerstone Elementary, yes?" The woman just nodded and rolled her eyes. "And you have Aaron Troxler and Theresa Samuels for students, isn't that right?"
"If you ask me, they don't belong in the third grade," Connelly dismissed his perfunctory questions.
"Really, and how do you figure?" Gardener jumped in suddenly.
"Considering that both of them constantly ace all of the tests and projects that I've been giving out since the school year began. Both of them express boredom with all of their assignments. Mind you, the work they turn in is outstanding, and when I compliment them, they just seem to ignore me as if I didn't exist. Whenever I try to put them to work with other children and boost the others' learning level, those two just leave them behind in the dust. As a result, they're often ostracized and ridiculed by the children."
"And do you correct this cruel behavior?"
"As often as I see it occur, yes. But unfortunately, I can't be in every argument during recess and after school on the playground."
"Ms. Connelly, have you ever had to call a parent/teacher conference for either child?" Doggett asked.
"Well, during the first two weeks of school, I was concerned that maybe the kids were using their parents or siblings to do their work for them because it was so above the level of a typical third grader. So I called their homes and found out that Aaron and Theresa were only children to two very loving pairs of parents that were shocked that I even suggested such a thing. It's such a rare occasion for children to have both a mother and a father in the same household anymore. It was odd to speak with both parents on the same line. I have to make phone calls to kids' grandparents, step-parents, uncles, aunts, and guardians most of the time nowadays. Sometimes I have to make sure that I have the right contact information after I get in touch with the responsible party--their names don't even match the last names of the kids' anymore."
"How about any abnormal behavior from Aaron or Theresa?" When Connelly gave him an exasperated glare as if to ask were you just paying any attention to what I told you, Doggett waived his hand in mid-air. "Let me rephrase that. Are you having disciplinary problems with these kids?"
"Not one bit. But it's the quiet ones that secretly worry me the most."
"What do you mean by that?" Gardener prodded.
"Look at what happened last year in April. I know those weren't elementary kids, and if that ever happens in an elementary school, I'm going to find myself a new career. Those teens just let the anger build up inside of them for years and finally let it all go with bombs and shotguns. It's not right for kids to be allowed to be that ruthless to each other. So I watch over Aaron and Theresa's situation closely."
"Might I ask how escalated the situations got when you have interfered in the past? Do they typically involve just verbal abuse or do they get physical?"
"I try to cut them off as early as possible...just when they start to call Aaron or Theresa names. The fights are mostly verbal and instigated only by the jealous kids. Aaron and Theresa rarely do anything in defense; they take the abuse most of the time. But one time, it did require the involvement of another adult's assistance. I don't remember what led up to the altercation, but I sure as hell remember the result. As a matter of fact, it happened two weeks ago. Both of them had ganged up on a boy that was teasing Aaron. Theresa was holding the poor kid's hands behind his back while Aaron was getting ready to perform some kind of a choking blow. I ordered Theresa to release this boy, but neither of them reacted to my voice. It was as if they either didn't hear me or didn't care. I had to get the janitor to help me pry the boy away from Theresa just before Aaron could land the hit correctly. He ended up just missing the fatal spot, too. And I mean by centimeters. She had a deathly strong grip on the kid."
"Have either of them had karate lessons?" Doggett probed.
"There was a meeting held with the parents, and the question was asked. Their answer was no. At first, none of them would believe me when I called because nothing like this had ever happened before. I only knew what to do because I'm taking self defense classes at night, and this technique involves the assailant's two fingers; the index and forefinger strike the windpipe here," she pointed to her neck.
"I'm familiar with that. You can use that to your advantage if you get backed into a corner by someone twice your size," Gardener assented. "What happened after you pulled them apart from the kid?"
"I took them to the principal's office. They weren't kicking or screaming on the way, but as soon as I explained what had happened to my boss, I noticed something very peculiar about their behavior. They were stoic, almost like soldiers--neither of them had emotions either way about the happenstance."
"That's odd. So they just took their punishment and went back to their quote normal conduct?" Doggett rested his chin in one hand while the other held up his elbow.
"Yes. My boss later informed me that there were no arguments and no reactions with him when he told Aaron and Theresa that he'd have to phone their parents. Do you have a kid, Agent Doggett?" Connelly watched him as he poured a paper cup full of water and offered it to her across the table. He then pulled out the chair in front of her and sat.
"One. He's gone, now," Doggett replied emotionlessly.
"I apologize. But as a father, would you think that a child would be terrified upon being in trouble with his or her parent?"
"Under normal circumstances, yeah, definitely."
"They were both as quiet as mice and showed absolutely no remorse for what they'd done. If I hadn't gotten there to stop Aaron, that boy would've been dead no questions asked."
"In that case, you probably understand why I wanted to talk to you, Ms. Connelly."
"Detective Gardener said that Aaron and Theresa's parents had been murdered. Do you suspect that those children killed their parents?"
"I can't discuss all the details of this case with you freely, Ms. Connelly. But what I can do is thank you again for taking the time to speak with us." But his eyes told her that that was precisely why he had made her sit in that windowless, bleak room all by herself for half an hour. "Detective, is there anything else you'd like to add or ask?"
Gardener seemed taken aback by his question, but her outward reaction was nothing more than the narrowing of her eyes briefly. If he hadn't made eye contact with her when he asked the question, he would have missed it entirely. She shook her head. "No, except my own thanks to you as well, Ms. Connelly."
Both law enforcement officers watched the teacher leave in silence and remained inside the room to discuss their points of view. "They could have learned moves like that by watching TV," Doggett suggested. "We have no idea how much the media is affecting kids nowadays. They're like little sponges."
"It's likely. Where are your colleagues? I thought they were going to meet us here."
"Agent Scully said that they were getting those gloves looked at by one of your forensic chemists. Maybe it's taking her longer than we thought. I can only hope that's because it's good news."
"Can I ask what you hope to get out of this? I already heard your partner's far out theory."
"I hope that we catch the killer, whatever age he or she might be."
"So you're buying into her bullshit?"
"I didn't say that. But there's something that didn't sit well with me when I talked to those kids. I can't say what it is specifically right now--but let's just say that it was an uneasy feeling. Didn't you get that when you looked at them?"
"I don't really rely upon 'feelings' to solve my cases, Agent Doggett. I'm a factual type of person."
"Well, I don't rely on them either, but every now and then it pays to have a 'gut instinct' about police work no matter what your job is. Agent Scully is more the expert in our department than I am. I find that I get left in the dust with her sometimes."
"She didn't strike me as the sort to go off chasing after aliens. In the dust?"
"Yeah, left in the dust because she's knows a helluva lot more about science than I do. Why would you think we chase after aliens?" Doggett took the cup that Connelly left untouched and brought it to his lips.
"I met a guy that used to work on these X-Files. He was partnered to Scully before you, I think, but she wasn't with him at the time. We met at an APA convention in Topeka, Kansas this past year, and he told me what kind of work he was involved in at the FBI."
"Well, we're certainly not dealing with those. Tell me, how long ago was this convention?"
"Uh, let's see..." Gardener leaned against the wall and tapped her foot onto the tiled floor pensively. "It was in April."
"Oh."
"Why do you ask?"
"Agent Mulder's been missing since the end of May. I was kind of wondering if you'd bumped into him in the past couple of months."
"I think he'd be the last kind of guy to skip out of his work, especially after I saw what Agent Scully looked like. He showed me a photo of her in his wallet. If I'd not seen her with you, I would have thought that he'd have taken her with him, wherever he went. She seemed like she was more than just a close friend or partner. I'd think he'd probably give his life for her. What's your interest in Agent Mulder?"
"It's my job to find him. I'm only working with Agent Scully temporarily, until her original partner can be located. Not that I don't like working under a woman, but I hope to find him soon."
"You used to be a cop, didn't you?"
"Eight years with the NYPD," Doggett nodded. "How'd you know?"
"I can read into people and sense things about them. It's why I became a detective instead of a forensic investigator. I noticed how differently you treated me than your boss and your partner. They dealt with me as diplomatically as ever as you feds can be, but you know what it's like to have your feet squashed by some pompous agents either in heels or suits." The tapping of her foot was rhythmic, like she was listening to a song as well as talking to him.
"Yeah, well, even some feds in the regional and district field offices can get rather territorial about people like us coming from Headquarters." He paused to think for a few moments and set down the paper cup. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about Agent Mulder since you can read into people's character?"
"Shoot. I'm yours until the feds get back," Gardener shrugged.
"How long was this conference?"
"Three days and three nights. He sat next to me every day in the lecture hall."
"Do you mind if I ask you what you talked about?"
"Our careers and future paths we hoped to take along them. We also discussed some topics that the lectures touched upon."
"Did he ever mention that he was unhappy with his life?"
"Agent Mulder wouldn't be the kind of guy to commit suicide, if that's what you're thinking. He had a fairly stable career and though he didn't give me the nitty gritty details, a rock solid relationship with the woman he was working with."
"What would your ideal future be, if you could alter your career?"
"I'm satisfied now with where I am. Mulder told me I could easily snatch up a job as a profiler in Washington, but I don't have any sort of interest in that line of work. Then when I said so, he said I was very wise, and that was the end of that topic."
"He used to profile at the Behavioral Sciences Unit and our Violent Crimes Section years ago. You said he didn't give you the 'nitty gritty details' of his and Agent Scully's partnership. Can you...uh, pick up any kind of vibes with that? I mean, how'd you know that he would give his life for her?"
"You've been in love before, right, Agent Doggett?"
"Yes, of course."
"You know what the little smile is, then."
"I think so. But go on." Gardener gazed outside the window for any signs of life from Scully or Skinner, but no one was there. She eventually sat in the previous chair Connelly occupied.
"When he gave me his business card, I saw her there in the wallet and just casually asked. All he said was my partner, but he had the telltale smile on his face. Head over heels. There's no way he'd separate himself from her willingly, Agent Doggett."
"Thanks, I appreciate your insight. As you can figure, I met all sorts of people as a New York cop, and that's where I got my nose for people. It doesn't come quite as naturally to me as it does you. Which is why I wonder you don't use it when you work."
"I use it. I just don't rely on it to solve cases, like I said."
"Well can I ask then, what was your first sense about those kids? Not when you interviewed them with me, I'm just talking about what you observed when you walked in and laid eyes on them."
"They didn't look like killers, but neither did Ted Bundy." She dug her notebook out of her jacket and flipped it open. "Boy, that Farrell woman was a bitch."
"She sure tried to take over the interview, didn't she?"
"Reminded me of my old lieutenant when I worked in San Francisco. Real horse's ass. Whenever I was questioning a perp and he was around, he'd jump in whenever he wanted to and take over the whole damn conversation without letting me get in one more word."
"She was manipulative, too. I'm not into accusing somebody of a crime until I'm positively sure of it, but she made it sound like we were putting the kids through the Spanish Inquisition!"
"Would you mind if I ask you a personal question, Agent Doggett?" Doggett considered telling her that they should just stick to the case, but after the brief amount of time he spent with her, he found that she was not a man hater, and that she could be a pleasant person. So he just nodded. "Why'd you quit NYPD?"
"My wife and I separated. I wanted to get out of New York, and I made friends with the special agent in charge over at the FBI's regional office there. He recommended that I apply to the FBI and gave a lot of good recommendations to them while I was at the Academy. That's why I didn't get shipped off to one of those field offices first like most of the other greenies."
"Well, I don't know what could've happened to them. Come on, let's get some coffee, and we'll go down to forensics," she arose and wrote a few more sentences before closing her notebook.
"Sounds good, Detective." Just as they left the interrogation room, Doggett's cell phone trilled from his suit coat pocket, and he reached into it. "Sorry about that. Maybe that's her now. This is John Doggett."
"Agent Doggett? This is Deputy Director Kersh. Are Agent Scully and AD Skinner with you?"
"Uh, not at the moment. But they're not too far from me."
"Good, then you can give them this message, too. Agent Doggett, you are to cease all investigations in Flagstaff immediately and return back to Washington ASAP."
"Why, sir? Is there an emergency?"
"The order is for all three of you."
"Might I repeat the question why, sir?"
"The Attorney General called, Agent Doggett. Let the locals handle the case from now on. We cease to have jurisdiction over there."
"Can we at least hand over our case file to the field office? I don't want to leave the detective here empty handed when we have quite a bit of information to give her."
"Just pack up and leave at once, Agent Doggett."
"I still think maybe if Agent Scully stayed behind that would really help them. After all, she was the one who was originally working this case years ago. Skinner and I are just providing backup to her now." The director paused for a few moments as if he were actually considering Doggett's plea.
"John, you still have a promising future ahead of you at the FBI. I advise you not to be picking up any of Agent Scully's rebellious habits. It's obvious that Agent Mulder was a bad influence on her. At one time, Scully did have a positive outlook on her career; I don't want the same thing to happen with you. And to continue on with this case would reflect poorly on your performance records, especially since you'd be going against an order from the Attorney General."
"Yes, sir, I understand. We'll be home tomorrow morning."
"Leave tonight." Doggett was puzzled at his urgency; Kersh could be brusque at times, but he had never been rude before to him.
"Will do." He hung up and began to look around for Gardener, who was standing about ten feet down the hall from him talking to an officer. He was very glad that she didn't hear a word and shuffled over to her. She noticed his presence and finished her conversation abruptly.
"Ready?"
"Yeah, but, I'm only going to be going with you to find Scully and Skinner and take off. That was our deputy director on the phone. Looks like we're off the case now."
"Hmm." Gardener shrugged nonchalantly; he couldn't tell what she was thinking. "At least you found out that Agent Mulder didn't run away on you to attend a psychologist's convention."
They traveled on quietly for another five minutes before bumping into Scully and Skinner coming up from the staircase. "We were just looking for you," Doggett commented. "Thought you'd disappeared into thin air."
"Sorry, the analysis took longer than we thought. The chemist had a lot of priorities ahead of us," Scully apologized and handed the evidence bag to Gardener. "But good news. It is indeed digitalis."
"Unfortunately, I got some bad news, Agent Scully. Deputy Director Kersh just phoned me, and we're outta business here."
"Why's that?" Skinner spoke up.
"All I know is that we've been requested by the Attorney General to drop it and leave it to the capable hands of Detective Gardener here," Doggett gestured over to her.
"Well now I know who's behind the technology," Scully mumbled. "Damnit, I thought they were gone."
"Technology? And what do you mean by 'they'?" Gardener pocketed the bag.
"It's a long story, one I'm afraid that would take hours to explain. And I'm not going to let them bully me out of a case--not now."
"I don't understand what you mean, Agent Scully," Doggett stated.
"Agent Doggett, this is our case. I opened it with Agent Mulder in 1994, and I'll be damned if I walk away from it because some bureaucratic fool told me to."
"Agent Scully, this is an order from the Attorney General, not just some superior in the FBI." Kersh was right about Mulder's influence, all right. "Besides, I think Detective Gardener has a very strong foundation here, and now that she has some evidence, she'll be able to proceed."
"To what lengths? I'm sorry, Doggett, I don't doubt her abilities at all as an investigator. She needs more information and help before she can go on any further."
"I'll be the judge of that now, Agent Scully," Gardener barged in on their disagreement.
"Do you see the date on this file here and the names signed below on the report?" Scully fumed, folded the X-File folder open, and held it open for Gardener to read. "I'll be more than happy to work with you, Detective Gardener, but it's our case. And you can tell that to the Attorney General if he wants to be so goddamned fussy about the details!"
"Don't make trouble for yourself, Agent Scully. If you stay here, it won't be good for you." Doggett shook his head.
"I care about finding out the truth...and bringing people to justice. If I go, that won't happen," her tone came down about two octaves. "Tell me, Agent Doggett, what are your priorities? Do they include easing yourself into a higher position's chair, or finding out why those two kids assassinated their own flesh and blood?"
"Assassinated?" Gardener posed. There was a moment of reticence throughout the hallway, and it was Skinner that broke it first.
"Agent Doggett, if Deputy Director Kersh wants us to leave, then let's go. But just the two of us."
"I suggested that to him, and he said no," Doggett's eyebrows furrowed.
"What was your reasoning behind that?"
"I figured that I wasn't nearly as experienced as she. So it probably wouldn't hurt if I left."
"Do you still feel the same?"
"Yeah, but the Deputy Director-"
"Doesn't have to know about it. I'll make you a deal, Agent Scully. If nothing comes out of this in the next twenty-four hours between you and Detective Gardener here, you come back home to D.C."
"I can promise you that I'll make something out of the investigation in less than twelve," Scully softly assured him.
"Good. Does this sound sensible to you, Agent Doggett?" Skinner questioned him.
"No. But I've been dealing with a lot of non-sensible stuff for the past few months now, haven't I?" the agent ignored his conscience and trudged away from the other three officers.
"He's a good man, Skinner. I know he won't betray us to Kersh," Scully stated.
"I don't like leaving you out here in the field alone. Report in to me as soon as you finish up here for the night. I don't care if it's just a short message on my cell or a lengthy monologue on my answering machine at home."
"Will do, sir," Scully nodded and patted him on the forearm. "Thank you for understanding."
"Detective Gardener, will you do me a favor, please?"
"Yeah?" Gardener looked completely bothered but gave him her full attention.
"Make sure Agent Scully gets to her motel okay."
"I can do that, sure." Scully was on the brink of irritation but remembered that he knew best and was only thinking about her welfare.
"Oh, and Scully, we'll take a cab to the airport." Skinner handed the keys of the rental to her and caught up with Doggett. He was hoping and praying that Scully would finish this up quickly for everyone's sake.
"You want to tell me what that was all about, back there?" Gardener queried. "How in the hell do you get off by calling those two kids assassins?"
"Because that's what they are," Scully returned and closed up the X-File. "I think you should know what you're dealing with, which is why I wanted to stay here."
"I don't know what to make of this, I really don't. We interviewed five neighbors, three classmates, two local relatives, and one teacher that actually did believe that these kids could kill. The others had no indications or inclinations."
"What did the teacher have to say?"
"It's been a long day, and I need some coffee." She motioned her head toward a break room, and Scully strolled around the corner with her towards it. After receiving a firm 'no thank you' from Scully, Gardener poured herself a full styrofoam cup. "Now, her name was Caroline Connelly, and she teaches third grade over at Cornerstone. She spoke of an incident where the boy and girl almost killed another classmate once."
"Hmm, so it was just attempted murder and deadly assault."
"Yeah. She didn't state specifically what the punishment was, and it sounded like it didn't matter to the children. There's so much violence on TV nowadays--maybe that's what hardened them. Agent Scully, Caroline Connelly said that neither child flinched with remorse. I've never heard of any kind of reaction like that coming from a child before." She lifted the cup to her lips and started to sip it.
"They're not regular children."
"Come again? I visited them with Agent Doggett earlier this evening, and they looked fairly normal to me. They were quiet, but that's a usual response for frightened children."
"Did they look scared to you?"
"They were shy. But then that damned social worker kept on interrupting us."
"But did either of them want their parents or the comfort of a relative? Perhaps even a stuffed animal?"
"Well, their parents are dead, of course they wouldn't...--no, now that I think of it. Maybe that's what they wanted us to think. Their teacher did say that these kids had intelligence that was way above the level of a third grader."
"What were they doing while you interviewed them?"
"Well the girl was drawing something, and the boy was building a skyscraper with Legos."
"What kind of questions were you asking?"
"Certainly not ones like 'are you assassins?' and 'by the way, did you kill your folks?'. We asked them where they were when it happened."
"So you questioned them together in the same room."
"Doggett asked most of the questions, and as a matter of fact, I wanted to do that; I wanted to question the girl by myself and he the boy. But the social worker wouldn't let us."
"What were the alibis given?"
"Same answer--in the kitchen eating dinner. This murder happened in front of them, Agent Scully."
"I realize that. Please continue."
"They said that their parents got up to get some more water but fainted. Their dogs started to bark outside. So they went to their backyards to check on the dogs. After they came back, they caught glimpses of some men in black masks stabbing their parents in the jugular veins and then running out the front door. Wait a second, something's not right with their stories."
"And what's that?"
"I'm sorry?"
"What was wrong with the stories?"
"Well, why would both of the kids run into the backyard at the same time? And furthermore, how would a couple of eight year olds remember specifically where their parents got stabbed? Even people with superior minds can blank out on the details."
"Speaking of details, what were the children's actions after these men killed their parents?"
"Doggett didn't ask, but then again, the social worker kept on haranguing us to stop interfering with the children's rights."
"Right. If these were normal children, the normal response would have been one of two different reactions. Either they would have run screaming over to their neighbors, or they would have called 911 themselves. You yourself said that the bodies were found three days ago. And children from the age six and up are now taught in every public elementary school in America what the emergency number to the hospital is."
"I see what you mean. The Geigers, who live next door to the Troxlers, were on vacation. The Shermans, who are next to the Samuels didn't hear anything. No front doors slamming and certainly not any yelling," Gardener admitted and sat down at a table where Scully joined her. "Mortally terrified or not, kids scream like there's no tomorrow when they think they're about to be harmed by strangers."
"Forensically, the alibis do not corroborate. For instance, typically speaking of homicides committed with knives, 95 of them are crimes of passion. The stab wounds I usually find are not so methodical, so precise. The only sort of crime that I see that could possibly be committed so quickly and fatally is by a large slash across the throat from ear to ear. Or perhaps, maybe, a gash across the aorta. But then your CSIs would have found blood sprays elsewhere around the kitchen, not just large pools of blood. Knife wounds are quite messy even if the crime is pre-meditated. Your medical examiner found a pair of wounds right here," Scully pointed to her neck. "And the angle with which the stabbing instrument was placed suggests more of a careful insertion point--so that the parents would bleed to death. But even then if these masked men had truly done this so methodically--in their haste, there would have been some kind of footprint somewhere. By the way, how about these masked men? Did you get a description out of the kids, or were they too mortally terrified to give that to you?" Gardener gave her a sharp scowl. "I'm sorry, that was rude. I didn't mean to discredit you, but I just think that you were fed a pile of very large manure."
There was a time when I was the one solving the problems with the local law enforcement, not causing them. I'm turning into Mulder.
"I've been up since 4:30 this morning, Agent Scully, and the case worker wasn't helping either of us. All she did was bitch about the children's rights like a broken record." She ran her fingers through her scalp and finished the remainder of her coffee.
"But do you now see the flaws in their stories?"
"I was waiting for you to say that it was gonna be a little green man," Gardener muttered. "Yeah, I see them. It's just such a rare thing nowadays...I've busted teenagers for murder, but never a pair of eight year olds. Guess I just didn't want to believe that kids at this age could do something like that."
"Just because my department deals with the unexplained doesn't mean that I go off blaming the aliens. I start my cases off with the principle of Occam's razor. Are you familiar with it?"
"Yeah. I can see why he liked you so much," the corners of her mouth turned up. "What do you suggest we start off with in the morning? I desperately need some sleep, and I need to start a mountain of paperwork."
Scully looked at her watch and saw that it was quarter to eleven. She was becoming hungrier by the minute, but she had to know what Gardener was talking about first. "Who?"
"Your partner." She got up, threw the cup away, and Scully joined her as she started to walk back to her desk. "I mean, your old partner. What time do you want to start in the morning? Maybe we could meet for breakfast somewhere," Gardener yawned.
"I'll call you around 7:00, and we'll figure it out from there. When did you meet Mulder?"
"About um...five months ago, actually, at a conference in Topeka, Kansas. Surprised you didn't know. Thought he would tell you anything." Scully's mind raced back to remember that it was just not so with Mulder. He told her a lot, but he never mentioned the tumor that had been pillaging his brain into ruin. And he didn't tell her where he was going in April for that long weekend, just that he needed some personal time to himself.
"He's kept some secrets from me, yes," Scully confessed. "What kind of conference?" She found that her voice had gone into the cautious but suspicious investigator.
"American Psychology Association. We sat next to one another for every lecture. Don't worry, Agent Scully, there was nothing between us. He was as loyal to you as a dog." When they arrived at her bureau, she dragged an empty seat from someone else's desk in front of hers and signaled Scully to be seated in it. Only when Scully settled in did she also in her own chair. "He leaned over to me during the first one and asked me if I had any aspirin...said he had a pounding headache."
Goddamn that cigarette smoking bastard to hell. I know he was the one that caused Mulder's tumor.
"So I gave him some, and that sparked off our brief acquaintance during it all." She opened a drawer and pulled out a packet of papers so fat that it made a car rental agreement look like a shopping list. "He gave his business card to me at the end of the weekend, but I managed to sneak a glimpse in his wallet and saw your picture. I asked who you were, and all he said was 'my partner'. I think it wasn't just those words that stunned me; it was the intensity and solemnity with which he said them. You miss him very much, don't you?"
Although Scully had been furiously trying to keep her face free of emotion, it was slipping by in every moment that Gardener spent speaking of Mulder.
"How'd you know he's been missing?"
"Agent Doggett told me. But I figured it out long before then that that man would never leave your side. Am I right?"
Tears were just about ready to pour forth from Scully's eyes, and all she could bring herself to do was nod and hide her grief with her left palm.
"Oh, I can see that this is tearing you apart. Perhaps it'd be better if we called it a night."
"Yes. You're right," Scully admitted after composing herself. "How can I reach you?" Gardener wrote her contact information down on a sticky note and admired Scully's business card as it was given to her.
"Fancy. My tax dollars at work," she reflected tartly.