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KINGSBURRY ACADEMY
BLOOMFIELD HILLS, WI
MONDAY, OCTOBER 13th, 2008
1530
Giles had gone over the crime scene photos from the other three cases, and come up with nothing that suggested any religious preference for the other two victims. So Mulder had ended up visiting the respective crime scenes and gathering himself that only two of them were the same religion.
One woman was Jewish. Another was Muslim. The third was Christian. And, of course, Bridge Smith was also Christian. However, Mulder had found one piece of information that he intended to pursue, as soon as Scully got there. Every single woman, with the exception of Bridget Smith, had recently changed religions. Their children had recently changed with them, and had been sent to classes in the new religion.
The other Christian woman's children had attended the Bible study with Greenwood, and Mulder wondered if the other teachers of religious classes had any connection to each other. He told Giles to figure that out.
Mulder had spent about an hour going over the case with Scully, who was finally finished with her meetings and had told him she would be packed and ready to get on the plane within an hour. She would definitely be in Wisconsin tonight.
He really wished Scully could be with him for this interview with Greenwood. He hated doing interviews by himself; he always felt as though he'd miss something, or not ask a crucial question that could lead to proof later. Scully was his other half—his better half, if his opinion counted for anything—and without her he didn't have nearly as much confidence in his own abilities.
As he turned the car into Kingsburry Academy, he stopped at the security gate settled next to the turn off of Woodward Avenue highway. He rolled down his window and flashed his badge, and the security guard smiled, and lifted the barrier remotely.
The drive into Kingsburry Academy was longer than he expected. The school grounds were huge, and it was almost a quarter mile of grass and trees before he got to the actual school. He saw signs for the South Campus parking lot, and recognized what had to be teacher's housing off of some side-streets. He passed by tennis courts, a football field, and more side-streets. He knew from the map he had looked at that the Kingsburry campus included two museums open to the public as well as several courtyards, lakes, sports fields, and playgrounds.
He found the Greenwood's side-street and turned into it, off the hill that would have taken him directly to the Observatory had he kept going. The small houses were situated in a row, overlooking one of Kingsburry's lakes. A man in rubber pants was down by the lake, putting some kind of water treatment solution into it. Mulder parked the car and walked up the stairs that took him to the Greenwood's front door.
He rang the bell, and looked around. A few middle-school-aged kids dressed in khaki pants and fairly nice shoes, carrying backpacks and holding gym bags, trudged through some mud, and then said goodbye to each other as they headed to their houses. In the distance, Mulder could see a soccer field near the boy's middle school filled with kids in uniform, practicing.
Finally, the door opened, and a middle-aged man with dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard looked quizzically at him. "Can I help you?"
"Mr. Greenwood, my name is Fox Mulder, I'm an agent with the FBI," Mulder said, pulling his ID just as a baby with curly red hair ran into his father's legs and demanded attention.
Skip bent down and picked up his son Cory, and then turned to Mulder again. "Do you want to come in?"
"If you don't mind, Sir."
Skip opened the screen door, and Mulder stepped in. The house was very small, but very cozy. It was immediately obvious that this was an active family with children. Small shoes lay at the foot of the stairs, and a child's laughter could be heard from the family room. In the kitchen, a woman sat at one of the two stools at the counter, talking on the phone.
Mulder also immediately noticed the music playing throughout the small house. He didn't know where it was coming from, but there were multiple sources and the nearest one was playing Christian music.
It was a contrast to the chilly, overcast Wisconsin weather outside to see a house so bright and full of life.
The baby didn't say anything but he did grasp at his father's chin, studying its features as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.
"Would you like to have a seat?" Skip asked.
"That'd be fine," Mulder answered.
He led Mulder around the corner, and straight into the family room. It had two couches, one smaller than the other, up against the wall to make a large space available in the middle of the room. Legos lay everywhere, clearly the efforts of a child to construct something massive.
A machine resembling one of Rube Goldberg's lay in the center of the carpet, constructed from a combination of Lego's, K'nex, string, duct tape, and the broken pieces from an old Mouse Trap game. Across the carpet, among more Legos, was a slingshot with a piece of paper. A closer look revealed to Mulder that the slingshot was adjustable, and the paper marked the angles not by numbers but by names. 'Wall', 'window', 'ceiling', and 'Lego Blaster' were scrawled in child's writing. Mulder realized that whoever had done this was quite the remarkable child-engineer. And that child sat before Mulder, immersed in a school book and smirking as if it was the funniest thing in the world.
"Arthur, would you please go to your room to do your homework?"
Arthur looked up, glanced at Mulder curiously, and then nodded. "Okay," he said, and gathered his school things in his arms as he left the room obediently.
"I'm sorry about the mess," Skip said.
"It's fine. I'm here to talk about an investigation that's currently going on."
"Would you like to speak to my wife too?" The man offered.
"If she's busy we could discuss this alone for a few minutes," Mulder said. "It's no problem."
Skip indicated with his hand that Mulder should sit, and sat down himself on the other couch. He put Cory in his lap and let the baby play with a Lego piece from the floor. It promptly went into his mouth—luckily, it was large enough that it didn't much matter.
"There have been four murders in the area in the past week," Mulder said. "The FBI is investigating the situation and my partner and I were called in because of some unusual circumstances surrounding this case. Today, while I was at one of the crime scenes, I found a flyer for a children's non-denominational Bible study with your name as the instructor. It ended two weeks ago. Three of the children of the murdered women attended the class."
Skip looked shocked. "Who?" He asked, his voice nearly a whisper.
"Margaret Denfield and Bridget Smith, the two most recent murders. Mr. Greenwood, are you all right?"
The man looked ready to pass out. But he managed to nod, and called in a frightened tone, "Melissa? Melissa, get off the phone, come in here…"
A moment later, the blonde woman, apparently Skip's wife, entered the room with a troubled expression.
"Bridget and Margaret are dead," he said to her, and she instantly cupped her hand over her mouth. "How?" she asked, approaching the two men.
"They were murdered, Mrs. Greenwood," Mulder said sympathetically, watching their reactions carefully. "I'm Agent Mulder with the FBI." He stood respectfully until she sat down next to her husband, a numb expression on her face. "I've been assigned to this case."
She nodded slowly, and then looked at Skip. Mulder could recognize near-telepathic communication when he saw it—he and Scully did it all the time. The fact that the two of them were doing it now told him that they knew more about this than was obvious. "Mr. Greenwood, Mrs. Greenwood, how well did you know these two women?"
"They were the mothers of some of the children in my Bible study class. We would occasionally talk," Skip said, sounding quite baffled.
"They were both new Christians," Melissa offered. "They wanted their children to understand Christianity, so they enrolled them in Skip's non-denominational class at our church."
"And that would be The Ascension of Christ Lutheran Church?" Mulder asked, already knowing the answer.
Skip nodded.
"What can you tell me about these women?"
"Bridget was raised Catholic," Melissa offered. "She had recently accepted Christ into her life when we met her, and she joined our church not far after that."
Mulder's expression betrayed his confusion. "I'm sorry…you said she had been raised Catholic."
Skip and Melissa both nodded.
"But…then you said she was a new Christian."
Skip took Melissa's hand, and seemed to debate how he should best answer that unasked question. In the end, he simply said, "We suspect she didn't truly believe in the Catholic faith she was raised in. She became a protestant Christian and for the first time, recognized herself as a true Christian, about a month before I met her."
"How did you meet her?"
"We were at the Science Museum with Arthur, at a science fair exhibit. It was a while ago, during the summer. Her twelve-year-old took first place, her ten-year-old took second, and Arthur took third."
Mulder nodded. "Bridget Smith was divorced, and so were the other four women. Do you know if they attended any kind of support group?"
Skip shook his head. "If they did, I wasn't aware of that. Margaret and Bridget were both very independent people. They didn't want to discuss the past."
"What's going to happen to their children?" Melissa asked.
Mulder tried to give her a gentle smile. "They're in Social Services custody right now. Family members are going to pick them up, and they'll end up with a good home," he assured. He felt guilty saying it, though. Too many times he had seen children taken from their homes after incidents like this and placed in a much worse situation. Foster care, or a family member not fit to raise a child, were often the only alternatives.
"Were there ever any other adults in the class, Mr. Greenwood?"
"For safety purposes, the church requires two adults in a Bible study with young children. This Bible study was geared towards kids 10 to 14, so our pastor, Pastor Steve Mitchell, was present."
Mulder took out his notebook. "Can I get a phone number for Pastor Mitchell?"
"He's not under any suspicion, is he?" Skip asked, concerned.
"We have no reason to suspect him but we should interview all people involved, Mr. Greenwood."
Skip conceded reluctantly, and gave Mulder his pastor's number. Then he seemed to summon up all his courage before he asked, "Agent Mulder, how did Bridget and Margaret die?"
Mulder glanced at him curiously. "As I said, Mr. Greenwood, they were murdered."
"Were the circumstances unusual?" Melissa asked.
"Unusual how?" Mulder inquired, his interest piqued.
Skip sighed, giving his wife a 'look' that she returned right back to him. He started to answer the question, when a chill identical to the one in Bridget's basement passed through the room. Mulder looked up, trying to find any open windows. All he found was a closed fireplace.
But this time, Mulder's company seemed to have noticed it, too. They shivered, and Melissa got up and turned the stereo up. The Christian music was now much louder.
"I'm sorry, Agent Mulder, we were just curious about the situation. It's very…unusual, to have two friends murdered," Skip said, and stood. "Is there anything else we can do for you?"
Mulder looked at them, clearly puzzled. "No, for now, I--" He stopped, as the orange eyes caught his peripheral vision again. He directed his line of sight toward the window where he saw them, and quickly walked over to it. He looked down, where the front yard remained clear, and then looked around to see where it could have fled. "Do you have a cat?" He asked, well aware that cats did not usually have bright orange eyes.
The Greenwoods glanced at each other, and then Melissa answered, "Yes, we do." It was clear she wasn't saying what she wanted to say, and Mulder didn't like it at all.
He had to find a way to get them to give up whatever it was they were hiding, but they seemed to have a routine down, and they were definitely treating him politely, but as an 'outsider' at this point.
"May I ask why you play Christian music all around the house?"
"It's good for inspiration," Skip said simply.
"Do you play it in every room?" Mulder asked.
"Yes," Melissa answered, but didn't look like she was about to offer any more information.
"Why play it when no one's in the room?" he asked, trying not to sound insistent, but interested.
"So it's on when we walk in. Agent Mulder, really, is there any purpose to these questions?" Skip asked.
Mulder tried his hardest to think of one, but honestly couldn't. Again, he wished Scully was here. "No, Mr. Greenwood. I'm sorry if I insulted you. I'll call you if I have any more questions."
"We're glad we could help, Agent Mulder," Melissa said.
Mulder handed a business card to Skip. "If you think of anything that might help this investigation, please let me know."
"We'll do that, thank you," Skip said. He handed a squirming Cory to Melissa, and walked Mulder to the door.
"I'm sorry about your friends. Thanks again for your help."
"It's no problem. Have a nice day." Mulder felt like he was being pushed out the door. He heard the lock engage behind him, and sighed. That would've gone better had Scully been there, he thought.
Meanwhile, inside the Greenwood's home, Skip called Arthur down from his studies. The 8-year-old stormed down the creaky stairs, making it sound like the house would collapse in on itself. But Skip didn't call him on it. Instead, he walked into the family room, and the little boy followed.
The four of them sat on the couches amongst the Legos, Christian music, and cuckoo clock that chimed 4 pm. Then Melissa bowed her head, and folded her hands.
Everyone but Cory followed. The baby sat on the couch, slobbering on a toy duck he had picked up off the floor.
Melissa began. "Dear Lord, protect our family from the demon that torments our friends. We don't know how it managed to get to two true Christians, but we pray for their souls…"
Melissa's voice caught, and so Skip continued. "We pray for their souls in heaven, Lord, and for future victims of whatever or whoever has been unleashed on the innocent. We know we're safe because we have no fear of what Satan unleashes on us. We have only respect for you, and belief that you will protect us."
"God, please continue to keep the demons out of our house," Arthur said. "I don't want them to come back, and now that what's his name from the FBI was here, they might follow him around, and hurt him."
"Yes, God, please bless Agent Mulder and his partner," Melissa said. "For they may not be true believers, but they're trying, however foolishly, to stop what Satan has unleashed. We sense they're good people, God. Please give them the chance to see your way."
"Amen," Skip said.
"Amen," Melissa and Arthur echoed.
"Agent Mulder did seem like a good person," Arthur commented. He headed for the stairs. "But not a Christian."
"Arthur, please don't listen in on conversations from the top of the stairs," Skip said, exasperated.
"I wasn't," Arthur stated simply. "I used my discernment."
Melissa gave him a gentle smile. "It's not yours, Arthur."
"Sorry," Arthur corrected as he mounted the stairs. "I used my gift of discernment."
"Much better," Melissa said, and gave him a small pat on the hand before heading into the kitchen, to see about dinner.
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MARIOTT INN
BLOOMFIELD HILLS, WI
MONDAY, OCTOBER 13th, 2008
2000
Mulder lay on his hotel bed with the TV playing the Red Wings game, but he paid it no mind. He was intently focused on the yellow pad of paper in front of him, where he was scribbling down notes viciously. Scully would arrive any moment, he knew in the back of his mind, but until there was a knock at the door to the adjoining room, he wasn't moving. He was on a roll.
He had consulted the Internet for a while, and then escaped to the recesses of his mind. Something about this case rang a bell, and he wasn't quite sure what. But he did know it was indeed a very disturbing bell.
He recognized that something was horribly wrong when he had left the Greenwood's house. They not only didn't act normal, but something about how this was fitting together—or not—made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
After he explored the grounds of Kingsburry a bit more, he badged his way into their North Campus's library archives, and did a bit of ghost research on a hunch. It seemed like the kind of place that would have a very strong affinity for ghost stories, being so old and harboring so many kids. Maybe some of them would be true, and maybe that was the connection he was looking for.
It turned out that there were over two hundred ghost stories surrounding the Kingsburry school. Lucky for him, the librarian, a very old woman who couldn't have reached five feet tall or weighed any more than a hundred pounds, guided him to the ones that were most likely true.
And that's when he found what he was looking for. Several of the dorms were reputed to be haunted. Some teachers had resided in the apartments built into the dorms, for supervision purposes. And some of those apartments had been haunted. In an article from just five years ago, an 'anonymous' family was apparently tormented by a ghost. The article came from the school paper, but with a little digging and a little badge waving, Mulder had been able to find real records of the family's testimony to whatever authorities were called in.
It was originally thought to be a prankster kid living in the dorms, breaking into the apartment to move objects around, open baby gates, and break toys. Then it escalated to a new level when the family was vacated from their home one night for an undocumented reason, and a priest was called in from out of town. The records seemed to smooth over the event, and only a few months later, the family moved out of the apartment and into one of the teachers' houses. With a little more digging and some sweet talk, Mulder had found out from one of the secretaries that the tormented family was the Greenwoods.
At that point, it began to make sense to Mulder. The Christian music wasn't inspiration, it was protection. And they knew everyone in this heavily Jewish and atheist community would think they were crazy for believing in one of Satan's demons. And so they elected not to discuss the matter with him.
The papers scattered around the bed profiled the 'suspect', whose picture was becoming clearer in Mulder's mind as he worked. All women were independent. All had started a new life, both after the divorce and in a new religion. All were devoted to their children, and wanted them to explore the same religious path they had themselves. And all had hobbies that led to alone time.
Two knew a very Christian family that had been tormented by a ghost on the grounds of a very rich and not-so-Christian school campus.
Powerful. The suspect was powerful, and wanted more power. It elicited fear in its victims. Forced them into further seclusion, behind locked doors. It attacked alone, in what some might call a cowardly manner, in places where the victim couldn't easily find a weapon to fight back.
Angry. The suspect was angry, as indicated by the post mortem stabbing.
Meticulous. It didn't waver from a formula, so it either only wanted single, independent, working mothers who had recently changed religions, or it only knew how to attack them. Or only was ordered to attack them?
A knock at the door interrupted Mulder's profile, and he got up and opened the door to the adjoining bedroom with a broad smile. Scully stood in front of him, grin on her face. "Bubble-bath?" She asked.
"Aww, shit," Mulder said, rolling his eyes. "I'm sorry. I got busy—"
"You what?!" She said with mock horror, and then pulled him close to her, and gave him a kiss. "Working on a profile?"
"Yeah, and I think I'm starting to pull a few things together. But I need your input."
"After dinner. I'm starving. Do you have pizza?"
Mulder looked back at the empty pizza box guiltily, and said, "We can order another one…"
"You ate the entire pizza? My God, Mulder, we're too old for that!"
"Speak for yourself, Scully. I'm still in the trim and burly shape of my youth."
Scully poked his belly, which was virtually non-existent, and he said, "If you want me to giggle like the Pillsbury Doughboy, it's not happening."
She laughed, and picked up the phone book from under the nightstand. Mulder glanced at his yellow tablet, and sighed. Back to profiling, at least until Scully's pizza arrived. He had to get this done soon, before his suspect picked another victim.
A few moments later, a veggie and sausage pizza was on its way, and Mulder watched as Scully sat down on the bed amongst the papers.
"Scully, I have a question for you."
"Okay…"
"I mentioned to you that Bridget Smith was the only one who hadn't changed religions recently."
She nodded.
"Well, when I interviewed the Greenwoods, they made it sound like Catholicism wasn't really considered Christianity. That by joining a Lutheran church and becoming a Lutheran, she had changed religions. That's not true, is it? Or is there something I'm unaware of here?"
"Well, you understand the difference between Protestants and Catholics?" Scully asked, more of a statement than a question.
Mulder nodded.
"Basically, it rests in that fundamental difference. Catholics believe that accepting Jesus as your Savior and leading a good life will earn your way to heaven. Protestants believe that all you need to do is to accept Jesus as your Savior, and then you automatically are in heaven regardless of what your life is like. But they do believe that doing good is seen as better than doing bad, so no one's running around with the notion that life is a free-for-all."
"So some Protestants still believe that the Catholics aren't getting in heaven, and some Catholics believe the Protestants aren't getting in, and hence we have Northern Ireland and the rest of Ireland?" Mulder asked with a small smile.
Scully rolled her eyes. "Basically, yes, and don't make fun of that."
"There are some Protestants left that don't believe Catholics are Christians. That's what the Greenwoods are talking about—according to them, Bridget had just become a Christian."
"Maybe. But I wouldn't put the Greenwoods in a very exclusive religious group without having some proof."
"It doesn't matter—I'm not trying to prove they're one religion or another. It's just that, according to the Greenwoods, Bridget Smith, Margaret Denfield, and the other two women by definition have changed religions."
"Wait…you're considering the Greenwoods suspects?"
"They acted very oddly, Scully, and I know they're hiding something without a doubt. But they're not guilty of murder. They're involved in this somehow, but not as criminals."
"What's your profile say?"
"I think we're dealing with something or someone who either has a very specific grudge, obsessive compulsive tendencies, or instructions from someone higher up. And given the manner in which these women died, locked in their houses with the alarms on, I think we're dealing with something with a certain paranormal bouquet, if you get my drift."
"Are you thinking ghost, some kind of spirit, demon, or a mutant?" Scully asked. "Eugene Victor Tooms' Wisconsin-bred cousin?"
Mulder smirked. "You've got to stop with this role reversal, Scully, before I start painting my nails and wearing high heels."
"I think that could be sexy for one night…" Scully said thoughtfully.
"Keep dreamin' G-woman," Mulder said with a grin, and turned back to his tablet. He thought so much better when she was around. This thing was starting to fit together, and his research from the Internet was falling into place as well. "What do you know about the Christian idea of demons, Scully?"
Scully's grin dropped, as she recalled the manners in which they had encountered what one might call a 'Christian demon' before. A school in Milford Haven, New Hampshire, where a substitute teacher's status as human was still up in the air. A boy named Charlie, who hailed from Virginia and had his dead evil twin brother exorcised in Mulder's presence. A CEO of a major company hunting down a little boy in Ohio whose hands bled like Christ's. A pastor of a church able to control snakes—many of which ended up biting Mulder. And many encounters after that, not the least of which was a very recent one: a man going by the name Billy Ward, who tried to convince innocent townspeople in Nebraska and other states to accept his healing abilities, only to later enslave them to his will.
She nodded to Mulder's question, and asked slowly, "You think we're dealing with that again?"
Mulder sighed, and put his tablet down. "Scully, twice today I've felt something very cold brush up against me. I've seen a vision of orange eyes multiple times. And while those things could all be strange coincidences or ghosts trying to get my attention, I do have a feeling about this case. That we're both not going to enjoy it much."
"What about the Greenwoods? How did they strike you?"
"I feel like I would have gotten a better opinion of where they stand had you been there. But from what I can tell, they're very hard-core Christians. They play Christian music throughout their household, in what I'm guessing is an effort to keep out demons."
"Demons can only go where they're welcome," Scully said quietly. "That's according to Christian faith. Only where they can rule by fear or through the open arms of the naïve, can they go. Otherwise they're banished easily."
"Not so easily in four single mothers' cases," Mulder commented, and rose from the bed. He stretched, and then dropped his arms. "Scully, I think first thing in the morning, we need to go see the Greenwood's pastor. Steve Mitchell."
Scully nodded. "I would've thought you'd have already gone to see him."
"I tried, but he was busy. Some kind of retreat's going on for elementary school kids. He was unreachable all of today."
"A retreat on a school day? That's unusual."
"It's elementary school. They can learn to tie their shoes tomorrow."
Scully smiled for just a moment, before falling serious again. "Mulder, I want you to be careful. It wasn't too long ago that you were tied to a table while a building collapsed on top of you, courtesy of one of these…I guess demons, for lack of a better term."
"Don't worry, Scully. I won't do anything crazy."
She just gave him the 'look', and he couldn't help but laugh. "Really, I promise."
"Yeah, I haven't heard that before," she said, rolling her eyes. She walked toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna get a shower. If the pizza comes, don't eat it all, or I'll kick your ass."
"Yes, Ma'am. I'll leave you a slice."
"You better not eat any, Mulder. I'll have your ass in a sling," she called from the bathroom, and he chuckled.
"Wield that sling, Scully!" he called back, and elicited a small laugh.
He picked up his notes and organized them, or rather threw them into a pile. It was his version of organization. He placed them on the desk and sat in front of the computer again, where he began doing further research. Tomorrow, they would go visit the pastor and try to figure out where this thing had come from, and what it wanted.