Thanks for the reviews. I'm going to try to shorten the chapters, but it will be Scully POV for the rest of the story since most of the story is already written. It's just a matter of editing and updating, and I have to college work to finish up first so chapters will be a little slow in coming. Anway here is the second chapter.
Viorna
Disclaimer still applies. I don't own anything of the X-Files.
Chapter 2
An incessant beeping was pounding away at me, and I sat up with a jerk. It was my little travel alarm clock with the big voice, and at the moment, I wanted to throw it across the room. What idiot had set the alarm for six in the morning; oh, that's right, me. I turned it off and flopped back down on the pillows with a groan. I was still tired and I wanted to go back to sleep, but we had a case to work so I needed to get going.
There was a knock at the inner door, and I dropped my hand over my eyes. That knock meant Mulder was already up and about, ready to get on with the case.
"Yes?" I called, and the door opened and Mulder stepped in.
"Morning Scully," he greeted me, cheerfully. Too cheerfully for early morning in my opinion. "You better get moving."
"Why? We don't meet Detective Beaumont until eight," I said, sitting up in bed. "That means I have an hour and forty-five minutes to get ready."
"No you don't. Nicole just called me, and she said if we wanted to talk the vice-president of Impo-Expo, we better hurry, because he's leaving for a business trip at seven-fifteen," Mulder informed me.
I sighed and looked Mulder over. He was shaved and dressed. It was disturbing.
"Don't you ever sleep Mulder?" I asked him.
"Yeah, I sleep, just not as much as some people."
"What's that remark supposed to mean?"
"It doesn't mean anything. Boy, you have an attitude when you don't have coffee."
I glared at Mulder, but he didn't seem to notice. Instead he handed me a cup of coffee. It smelled like it was the good kind, and I took a sip.
"What's this for?" I wanted to know.
"To put you in your usual mood," he told me. The bed shifted lower as he sat down on the edge.
I decided to let that remark slide since I wasn't in the frame of mind to argue with him. Besides, the coffee Mulder brought was starting to kick in, and I was already feeling more awake. Sure, it was an artificial feeling of being rested, but I wasn't going to complain since it was that or really feel tired.
"We have to meet Nicole in about a half hour. Can you be ready by then?"
"I'm always ready Mulder."
"Well, I'll be waiting."
Mulder left my room, and I decided I'd better hurrying. To give myself credit, I was ready in fifteen minutes, and three minutes later we were on our way to the restaurant we had eaten at last night.
Nicole was already there, standing next to her car. She was as impeccably and as stylishly dressed as yesterday, but this morning her brown hair was down up in a French braid, instead of just loose like it had been yesterday.
"Morning Mulder, Agent Scully," she greeted us with a bright smile. "Sorry to rush you but we have to get to the airport to talk to Charles Callahan before he leaves for New York."
"Hey, no problem," Mulder said. "We're used to fast starts all the time."
"Good. I think breakfast will have to wait until after we talk to him."
"Then let's get going," I said, and we got back into our car.
It was slow going to the airport because of the morning commuters. And it seemed like we hit every red light in the city, but we finally made it to Atlanta International.
"How do we know where to find Mr. Callahan?" I asked as we headed through the doors.
"I know which flight he's taking. I talked to his secretary and she told me," Nicole explained.
"Oh, that's good. I was afraid we were going to wander aimlessly around the airport, looking for a needle in a hay stack," I remarked.
We found Mr. Callahan, and showed him our badges, saying that we'd like to talk to him a few minutes before he left. He agreed and we found an empty booth in one of the coffee shops.
"I only have about ten minutes before I board, but I'll help you all I can," he said as we sat down.
"Thank you Mr. Callahan," Mulder said. "You knew Mr. Monterale for a long time, right?"
"That is correct. We were very good friends as well as business partners."
"When did you first meet?" Nicole asked.
"Back in 1987."
"Did you know about Mr. Monterale's run-ins with the law?" I asked.
"Yes, I did, but I had my private detectives do some research on him, and I came to the same conclusion the courts had; that they were right in dropping the charges."
"Mr. Callahan, during the years that you knew Mr. Monterale, did anyone he'd ever had prior dealings with ever threaten him in anyway?" I asked next.
"Not to my knowledge. Most people who met him liked him, and he never mentioned anything to indicate he was having problems with anyone he knew."
"Alright," said Nicole. "One more question, and then we'll let you catch your flight. Where were you on the night Mr. Monterale was killed?"
Mr. Callahan immediately bristled. His eyes grew dark, and when he spoke his voice was something of a growl. "Are you insinuating that I would kill my friend and business partner? I highly resent that question and train of thought," he growled out.
"Please don't take offense Mr. Callahan," I said quickly. "It's just a routine question that we have to ask everyone."
He relaxed slightly, and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, I just, I'm still upset about Phil's death, and well, he was my friend," he explained. "I took my wife and kids out to eat. It was my son's sixteenth birthday, so we went out to look at some cars, and then we had dinner at his favorite restaurant, the Paper Lantern. It's a Japanese restaurant near the park. After that, we went home."
"Well, I think that's all for now. Thanks for talking with us," said Mulder.
"No problem," Mr. Callahan said, standing up to leave, then he sat back down. "There is something else. I don't know if this has any relevance, but I think Phil was having an affair. He never said anything specifically, but he said there were some things that needed to be cleared up."
Mulder and Nicole and I all exchanged glances, and then Nicole asked, "What do you mean by some things?"
"Well, he said he was having some problems with Alexis, and that it didn't have to do with work."
"I see. Well, thanks for your help."
"Right. Here, if you need to talk to me about anything else, here's my cell phone number."
We watched Mr. Callahan disappear through the throngs of people to his gate, and then Mulder said, "Well, this throws a new twist into things."
"Maybe, maybe not," Nicole mused. "This could be motive for Mrs. Monterale killing her husband. She finds out about him having an affair, and she's really angry about it, so she kills him."
"Or maybe," I interjected, "he decided to break off the affair, and the woman he was having the affair with killed him. You know, 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'."
Nicole and I were looking at each other, and I could feel tension in the air between us. We disagreed about this case, and I knew that sooner or later, we would probably butt heads. Hopefully, Mulder wouldn't get in the way.
"That can work either way," she said. "His wife could be the woman scorned."
"Or maybe he didn't have an affair, or if he did, it has nothing to do with his murder," I countered.
"You know, we better get going, we have a lot to do," Mulder interrupted, and we both looked at him.
"We are working on the case Mulder," I told him, but he just raised an eyebrow. "We're discussing the different scenarios."
"Mulder's right," Nicole said, "we should get going. We have a lot to do."
A flash of anger rolled through me after Nicole spoke. I knew I was being unreasonable, but it felt like she was trying to come between me and Mulder, and I resented that very much.
I pulled myself as tall as I could and I stepped closer to Nicole. I wasn't trying to be threatening, but I wanted to make it very clear to her that I wasn't going to agree with her and her theories, even if my partner did.
"I don't believe Mrs. Monterale killed her husband," I said firmly, "affair or no affair. I believe it was someone else, and I intend to find out who."
Mulder crooked a finger and motioned for me to follow him.
"Look Scully, in most murders where a husband and wife are involved, the killer is the spouse. That's just the way it is," he said to me in an undertone.
"Mulder I know that," I returned in the same undertone. "But she didn't do it."
"How do you know that Scully? All the evidence points to her."
"I just know Mulder. And what evidence do we have anyway? It's all circumstantial."
"Yeah, but pretty good circumstantial evidence, don't ya think?"
"What's with you? You're so willing to buy into Detective Beaumont's theory that you're ignoring any other options."
"I'm not ignoring other options; I'm just focusing on the most likely one."
"I thought you told me that the obvious isn't always the truth."
"But sometimes it is, and I think that this is one of those times."
I sighed in exasperation, and shook my head. This wasn't going anywhere good. We were getting frustrated with each other and we were wasting time. And we would probably continue wasting time until we came up with a doable solution. Mulder must've realized the situation too, because he said, "Look, how 'bout we split up. You follow your lead, and we'll follow ours."
"Okay, that's sounds like it might work," I agreed.
We ran the plan by Nicole and she agreed whole heartedly, and then I wasn't so sure. She was going to be alone with Mulder; who knew what was going to happen? Oh well, there was nothing I could do about. I only hoped Mulder would just stick to the case and not let his hormones get the best of him.
We decided we would meet up that evening at The Patrol Café, probably around seven or so, and then I took the rental car and headed for Impo-Expo.
It was a tall, very reflective building, and it nearly blinded me when I got out of the car and looked it over. There should be laws against buildings that shiny, I thought as I walked in and headed for the executive floor of Impo-Expo.
"May I help you," I heard a female voice ask when I stepped off the elevator, and I turned around to Tiffany Perkins standing there, looking at me with her dagger shooting blue eyes.
"Yes, I here to speak to the junior vice-president of Impo-Expo," I told her in my best no nonsense voice.
"What is your business with the junior vice-president?" she countered.
I didn't have any patience for this type of run around, so I decided to end it right then and there.
"May I remind you that this is a murder investigation and if you continue to thwart my efforts, I will arrest you for obstruction of justice," I warned her, and she seemed to deflate somewhat. Arrest for obstruction of justice might have been a little overboard, but at the moment I was afraid that was the only thing that would've worked.
"Alright," she said, "but you'll have to wait about a half hour, since there is a meeting right now."
"Thank you Miss Perkins."
She gave a nod and a stiff little smile as she walked off, and I gave an inward sigh of relief. I didn't want to have to arrest her, but as it did turn out, it was the only thing that convinced her to cooperate with the investigation.
I made myself comfortable in one of the large armchairs in the waiting area, and then went over my notes, and thought about what I would need to ask the junior vice-president. But then, without my consent, my thoughts began to wander to Mulder and Nicole. What were they doing right now? I knew they were working, but just exactly how much flirting was going on? Then another thought hit me, and I felt like a hypocrite. As much as I pretended not to approve of it, I really enjoyed it when Mulder flirted with me. And I knew on some occasions that I would flirt right back. But I hated it with a vengeance when he flirted with other women. I guess that meant I was jealous, and that made me feel like even more of a hypocrite. There was no logical reason for me to be jealous of the women in Mulder's life; well, no logical reason except for one I didn't like to think about.
"Agent Scully?" a voice broke through my thoughts and I looked up to see Tiffany standing there.
"Yes?"
"If you'll come with me, the meeting is over."
I followed her down a long hall to a large, wood paneled room, with a conference table in the center. The one wall was entirely windows, which contrasted sharply with the dark paneling.
As I entered the room a young woman stood up from where she had been sitting at the head of the oval conference table. She gave a bright smile and held out her hand.
"I'm Heather Bartlow, I'm the junior vice-president of Impo-Expo," she said. "What can I do for you?"
My eyes widened a little in surprise. This young woman was the junior vice-president? She couldn't be much more than twenty-seven or so. I guess that's why it's called junior vice-president.
"I'm Agent Scully, I'm with the FBI. I'd like to talk to you concerning the murder of Mr. Monterale," I told her.
"Oh certainly. I'll answer any questions I can."
We took a seat and I got out my little notebook, and then said, "Now this first question is a routine question, I'm required to ask it, so please don't take offense." She nodded and I went on. "On the night that Mr. Monterale was killed, where were you?"
"I was at the Westin Hotel Restaurant, celebrating my birthday with some of my friends."
"What time did you get there?"
"Around eight. My girlfriends had already arrived."
"Alright, and what time did you leave?"
"Well, we all left around twelve in the evening."
"And who was there at the party with you?"
"Alexis Monterale, Tiffany Perkins, and Karen Chan, and of course myself. Oh, and Mr. Callahan stopped in around eleven thirty."
That was news to me. Mr. Callahan had never mentioned that when he was talking to us and that struck a little warning light in the back of my mind.
"What time did he leave?" I asked, making sure I kept my voice from showing any surprise.
"He left when we did."
"Now, did you all go home separately?"
"Well, Karen, Tiffany and I took a cab together, since we all live near each other, but Mr. Callahan took Alexis home. Her car had gotten a flat tire, and he said her place was on the way to his."
That was another thing Mr. Callahan had failed to mention. I wondered what else I would find out along the way.
"Did you all have anything to drink?"
"Everyone except Alexis and Mr. Callahan had something to drink."
I nodded and glanced over my notes, and then asked Miss Bartlow if I could go over Impo-Expo's business records, and personnel files, and she agreed willingly.
That took me the rest of the day, and it was very tedious. And fruitless too. I didn't turn up anything that pricked my interest, or indicated to me that it was some kind of revenge killing for a business deal gone wrong. More and more it was looking as if Mulder and Nicole were right; Mrs. Monterale had killed her husband, either because he was having an affair, or for the money. But how could I ignore my own instincts? I just didn't think she had killed him, even if all the evidence said she did.
I also interviewed some of Mr. Monterale associates and employees, but no one could tell me anything that was of any more use than the files.
"Have you found anything that will help you?" Miss Bartlow asked. I jumped slightly; I hadn't heard her come up behind me.
"I haven't anything one way or the other, but I do appreciate you letting me go through your records," I told her. "I do have another question for you though."
"Well, I'll be glad to answer it if I can."
"Thank you. Now I know you probably didn't know too much about Mr. Monterale's personal life, but do you know if he was having an affair?"
Miss Bartlow's eyes widened and her face flushed slightly. She licked her lower lip nervously and then said, "Well, Alexis talked to me in confidence about something, and I don't think she would appreciate it if I went around airing her personal problems."
"I've already been told that it was suspected that he was, so if you can confirm or deny that information, it would be helpful."
Miss Bartlow let out a heavy sigh and sank into a chair. "Alexis told me she thought Phil was having an affair. She told me she found a bracelet in his office drawer here at work. She knew it didn't belong to her, and she showed it to us, and it didn't belong to any on us."
"Who's us?"
"Me, Karen, and Tiffany. She also said she smelled perfume on his clothing, and it wasn't her perfume, you know. And there were little things, you know. Sometimes you can just tell."
Suddenly I felt a twinge of sympathy for Mrs. Monterale. It had never happened to me personally, but I could imagine that it was very emotionally painful for her to find out that her husband was cheating on her. I knew if she killed her husband, it didn't excuse her, but I couldn't help but empathize with her.
I nodded slowly, and then stood up. "Thank you Miss Bartlow. I appreciate your help in this investigation. Now, where can I reach you if I need to?"
"Here's my number and my apartment address. Also, my cell phone number. I'll be glad to help you anyway I can."
"Thank you."
I turned to leave, but Miss Bartlow put a hand on my arm and stopped me. Her eyes were very sorrowful and when she spoke her voice was trembling.
"I know you think Alexis killed her husband, but believe me, she didn't. Even if it looks like she did," she whispered.
I didn't reply, and just pressed my lips into a thin line. I wanted to believe she was right. I didn't believe Alexis had killed her husband either, but unfortunately, the evidence was piling up against her.
Miss Bartlow gave me a small smile and walked quickly out the door, leaving me to get on with the investigation.
I had just stepped off the elevator when my cell phone rang, and I hurriedly answered it.
"Hello?" I said, pulling out my notebook.
"Hey Scully, it's Mulder," my partner greeted me. "Where are you?"
"I'm just leaving Impo-Expo, why?"
"We're at the crime lab, going over some of the evidence that was found in the apartment."
"Did you find anything?"
"No, not yet. How 'bout you?"
"I didn't find anything in the records, and I didn't get much from the interviews," I told him. "Why don't we meet somewhere so I can go over what I found with you and Detective Beaumont?"
Mulder chuckled and I was tempted to ask him why he had, but I thought better of it, and decided to ignore it.
"We can't make it right now, but we'll see you around seven or so, at the Patrol Café," he said.
I looked at my watch; five in the evening, so I had about two hours I had to wait.
"Alright, I'll meet you there," I said, and hung up. I had just thought of something I could do in the mean time.
I drove through the evening rush hour traffic, back to Mr. Monterale's apartment. When we had been there earlier, I hadn't gotten a chance to look around as thoroughly as I wanted, but now I could observe the scene without interruption.
The apartment was quiet, almost peaceful feeling with the afternoon sun filtering in the windows. It almost looked like it was just an empty apartment, but if one looked closer, fingerprint dust could be seen, and of course there was the large blood stain the bedroom. There was also an underlying creepy feeling.
I snapped on a pair of gloves and went through the apartment slowly, scanning the rooms to see if we had missed anything the first time around. I didn't see anything in the bedroom, or the bathroom. The living room combined dining room didn't offer any clues either, and Mr. Monterale's study was just as clean.
I was still a little in awe of the kitchen. It was the size of Mulder's whole apartment… neater, too. Copper pots and pans were hanging above an island. The table in the cozy breakfast nook was overshadowed by a large Boston fern, and there were several other plants hanging in macramé hangers. The cupboard doors were made of glass so that a person could see the Fiesta and copper cook ware, and the very chic dining sets.
After going through several cupboards, I was starting to believe that there wasn't going to be anything to find here. I moved on to the stove, then the dishwasher, and then I looked in the refrigerator. I heaved a sigh: nothing. I opened the cabinet under the sink and turned on my flashlight. The cleaning chemicals and sponges and scrub brushes were lined up neatly, and the cabinet itself was practically spotless. Whoever did the Monterales' cleaning did a very good job.
On instinct I ran my hand up along the pipes, and stopped with an intake of air as my hand hit something cold. It didn't feel like it a pipe; it felt like a handgun. Carefully, I felt along a little further. It definitely felt like a gun, and a big one at that.
I stuck my head inside and craned my neck around for a look. There, wedged between the crook of the pipe and the sink was what looked to be a .44 Magnum. I quickly hit the number for Mulder's speed dial.
"Mulder," he answered on the fifth ring.
"It's Scully. I think I found the murder weapon."
"You did? Where?" he asked excitedly. I could here Nicole in the background, faintly asking "What? Did she find the gun?" "Yeah," I heard him say, and then he said to me, "Where are you Scully?"
"I'm at the Monterales' apartment. The gun is in the cabinet under the sink, stuck between the pipe and the sink. It's a .44 Magnum."
Mulder relayed the information to Nicole, and then he said, "Nicole said they checked there, and the gun wasn't there. She checked that spot very thoroughly herself, nothing there."
"Well, there's definitely something there now."
"Okay, we have a forensics team on its way, to collect any evidence there might be. We'll be there shortly."
"Okay, bye."
"Bye."
I waited out in the hall for Mulder and Nicole and the forensics team to arrive. Things were getting stranger by the minute, and something wasn't setting right with me. I couldn't place my finger on it, but it felt like there was something more amiss than just the usual.
About a half hour after we hung up, Mulder and Nicole showed up, along with three men who wore jackets that said forensics, and two police officers. They began processing the scene all over again, right from the door.
The one man introduced himself to me as Rick Lawden, and then asked if I had touched anything without gloves. I told him that I had broken the police tape, and that I had touched the doorknob, but that was it. He nodded as if he were satisfied and then went on with his processing.
"Well," began Mulder, "someone was here after us."
"Yeah, the gun hid itself," I said, and Mulder gave me a bemused frown. I ignored it and went on. "The tape wasn't broken when I got here, so whoever put the gun in the cabinet peeled back the tape."
"It looks like we're dealing with someone who's pretty smart and intent on not getting caught," Nicole remarked.
"You said you had some stuff to tell us," said Mulder and I nodded.
"Yeah." I repeated what I had learned from Miss Bartlow, and as I talked Mulder and Nicole kept exchanging glances. From their looks, I knew they thought it was now a slam dunk case against Mrs. Monterale. That ignited a spark of irritation with me, and unfortunately it showed in my voice.
"You know," I snapped, "you may think that Mrs. Monterale is the killer, but I don't think she is, and I am not willing to arrest her until we have solid evidence that she is."
"Hey, Scully, we're all on the same side here," Mulder chided in a condescending tone, and that only added fuel to my fire.
"We have enough to bring her in for questioning," Nicole stated. "You can sit it out if you want, but that's what we're doing." She gave me a look after she finished speaking, and then with a shrug of her shoulders, she headed down the hall.
Mulder watched her go and then he turned to me. His eyebrows were drawn together in a frown, and he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. All of a sudden he looked very tired, and I felt as tired as he looked.
"Scully, why are you fighting us on this?" he asked, his voice laced with frustration and tension. "We have enough evidence to arrest her."
"Mulder, if you can't understand this without me having to explain it to you, then I'm not going to discuss it with you." I was feeling peevish; well actually, irritated working on angry was more like it. I turned on my heel and started for the elevator, but Mulder grabbed my wrist and stopped me.
"I don't get it Scully, why don't you want to arrest her. All evidence leads to her. What's different about her that we can't arrest her?"
"How can you just blindly arrest her, simply because you think all the evidence points to her? Are you that blinded by Nicole?"
"Whoa! Whaddaya mean blinded by Nicole? Do you think that I'm so physically attracted to her that I would just give in to her opinion? I think you're the one who's blinded."
"Me? Blinded by what?" I hissed in a low voice, so that only he could hear.
"You never like it when we work with women. In fact you resent it. It's like your jealous or something."
My eyes widened in shock. I thought I had always hidden my feelings very well, but here was my partner thinking I was jealous. This was too close for comfort, and it was ground we had never tread on before.
"If you think that I'm blinded by jealousy, and that it affects my judgment on this case, well then Mulder, you're crazy." With that parting shot, I jerked my wrist free, and hurried for the elevator.
As the elevator door slid closed, I heard Mulder run up. "Scully wait!" he called after me, but it was too late as I was already on my way down.
"Where's Mulder?" Nicole asked when I exited the building.
"He's on his way down," I replied shortly, without giving her anymore of an explanation. I got into the car and put it into drive, pulling out into traffic before Mulder could reach me. I wasn't in any mood to talk to him at the moment. I knew if I did, I would say something that I would regret later on. I needed to give myself time to cool off. And sometimes the only way that I could cool off was to put some distance between Mulder and myself.