THURSDAY AM
Connie knocked for a third time and still there was no answer. Something was definitely wrong. She could just feel it. Nancy was expecting her to take her to meet with her lawyer and Nancy never forgot an appointment.
"Nancy!" Connie yelled for her sister and pounded on the door, not caring if the neighbors heard her or not. "Nancy! Are you in there?" she called out again, even as she reached for the doorknob.
When it turned easily in her hand, a bolt of pure panic shot through her body, leaving her terrified. Nancy would never leave her door unlocked, small town or not. Nancy lived in a constant state of fear since escaping a stalker while living in Chicago.
"Oh God, Nancy," Connie whispered as she stepped inside, moving instinctively towards the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar. "Nancy?" Her voice was high and thin.
She saw her sister's robe strewn across the floor. Nancy wouldn't do that. Not her neat-freak sister. Something was wrong, her brain kept whispering over and over. Her breathing became slow and somewhat labored. Without conscious control, her feet carried her forward until she was standing outside the bathroom. The sight before her would be forever burned in her memory. Two tanned knees sticking out of the water in the tub.
Bile rose in her throat. Two more steps revealed her sister's body - quite obviously dead, her shoulders covered with bruises, and her head had fallen forward, her face mercifully obscured by her long brown hair.
Gagging, Connie stumbled backwards, away from the gruesome site until she was able to reach the phone in the living room. The operator was hard-pressed to understand the stricken woman but promised to send help right away.
Connie fell to the floor, still clutching the receiver and sobbing hysterically.
FRIDAY AM
The ringing of his cell phone caught Mulder completely by surprise and then a spark of fear went through him. Was something wrong with Scully? She never called him at work, for fear of interrupting a lecture or lesson, preferring that he call her on his breaks. A quick glance down at the caller ID showed a local number, but not a familiar one. He pushed "send" even as he hoped it wasn't Scully. It wasn't.
"Is this Fox Mulder with the FBI?"
"Yes, who's this?"
"Sorry to trouble you, this is Andrew Norton, I'm the Chief of Police here. I was at your workshop two weeks ago."
Mulder thought for a moment and then it came to him. "By any chance is this the same Andrew Norton, whose father was Chief of Police thirty years ago?"
"Well, I guess they don't call you guys "special agents" for nothing. Nothing gets past you, huh."
"Andy Norton! I - thought - that was you, but when you left so soon and didn't come over I thought I must have been mistaken. How the hell are you, man?" Mulder was delighted to hear from an old friend.
"Doing pretty good. Listen, I've been wanting to hook up with you all summer but time got away from me, and now I need your help."
Mulder turned serious. "Sure Andy, what can I do for you?" He paused briefly before continuing. "You realize I'm not on active duty right now though, don't you?"
"Yeah - but if we could just talk, it would be a big help."
"Sure, no problem, go ahead."
"Not now, not over the phone. It's kind of involved. Can we get together tonight somewhere?"
Mulder was intrigued. "Okay. Why don't you come to my place around six? My partner and I are staying at Dad's old place. She's recovering from an incident at work. If I'm not there right at six, go on in - I'll let Scully know you're coming and her physical therapist should be done by then."
"Thanks, Mulder - it is still just Mulder, isn't it?"
"Mulder works for me," Mulder laughed. "I'll see you at six."
FRIDAY PM
Sheriff Andrew Norton sat parked outside the home of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. From his position on the road, he could see that the physical therapist Mulder had mentioned was still there. He saw who he assumed was Dana Scully standing in the doorway as the other woman got in her car.
Andy stayed where he was and waited for her to leave. What he had to discuss with Fox, he wanted to keep as quiet as possible for now. He didn't want to fuel any fires around here if he could help it. At 6:05, the therapist drove off, passing Mulder as he pulled into the driveway and never giving Andy a second glance. Dana Scully was already inside. Andy watched a minute longer before following Mulder up the driveway.
As Mulder got out of his car, reaching into the backseat for his slides and notebooks, he heard Andy's car approaching.
"Well, if it isn't Randy Andy!" He greeted the visitor. "Long time no see, old friend!" Mulder went up to the man and shook his hand.
Andy patted is rather large belly which was straining against the material, and indicated the large balding area on the top of his head. "I'm afraid the 'randy' part doesn't quite fit anymore, Mulder. How's it going, Mr. Hotshot-FBI man?"
Mulder grinned. "Pretty good. How about yourself?"
"Not too bad." Andy replied. "Karen and I are still together and Nick and Tara go off to college next year."
Mulder shook his head. "Wow - where does the time go?" He had been one year behind Andy in school and though they didn't socialize outside school, they had been on the baseball team together for 3 years and shared a couple of classes. Andy had married his high school sweetheart, Karen Tucker, who had immediately gotten pregnant with twins. Andy decided to forgo college and followed his father's footsteps into law enforcement.
"Nice car," Mulder commented on the obviously new Chevrolet Impala, "and could you have any more gadgets on that belt of yours?" Mulder teased Andy, who shifted his nightstick, cell phone, extra large Leatherman tool, flashlight and keyring.
"I bet you poor slugs in the FBI don't have this kind of equipment to work with." Andy shot back at him, taking the ribbing in the spirit it was intended.
"Gee, if only someone had let me in on this when I was just getting started, I'm sure I would have chosen to be a small town cop." Mulder replied.
"Chief Cop." Andy announced. "This," he patted the car, "is not within the grasp of a mere beat cop."
"Point taken," Mulder laughed again. "Well come on in and meet Dana. How long have you been Chief of Police?" Mulder inquired as he guided his old schoolmate inside.
"Since Dad died, eight years ago." Andy told him.
They found Scully in the living room, setting out three beers.
"Pizza in the oven," she said as she stepped over to Mulder's side. "Hi, I'm Dana Scully."
Andy shook her hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Andrew Norton, but most folks just call me Andy."
"Make that 'Randy Andy'," Mulder interjected.
Scully looked over at Andy and silently asked the obvious question.
Mulder answered for him. "Andy here had a certain love for the young ladies in their short skirts in our day."
Andy waved his hand. "Aw shucks" the gesture said. "I was just a social kind of guy."
"Social. So that's what you call chasing them with your tongue hanging down so low that I kept hoping you'd step on it and make yourself speechless."
"Hey, I was just being my usual friendly self," Andy stated.
Mulder pushed Andy's shoulder. "Delusional is not a good look for you. Friendly is 'hello, nice to see you.' You're polite, chitchat about life in general, buy a coffee. Take me for example - I'm friendly. What you were was lecherous."
Andy laughed raucously. "And now I'm old." He glanced pointedly at Mulder. "And let me point out - so are you."
"I'm at least one year younger than you," Mulder protested.
"What year were you born?"
"You first."
"See," Andy looked over at Scully and winked again. "No wonder you're a special agent - you're way too smart for me."
"So, what can we do for you, Andy?" Mulder asked, still chuckling good-naturedly as he settled himself on the sofa next to Scully. He was anxious to hear what brought Andy over.
Andy sipped his beer as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. "You know it's pretty quiet up here, most crime is your garden variety stuff - nothing out of the ordinary."
Mulder nodded and waited patiently for Andy to continue.
"This morning, a woman was found murdered in her bathtub," Andy announced, taking another large sip of beer.
Mulder and Scully stared at the man, dumbfounded.
"Now, you know we don't have a lot of experience with this kind of thing - but my men were careful to document the scene, not touch anything they weren't supposed to and the body was sent off for an autopsy." He put down his beer and looked expectantly at Mulder.
"What do you need from me, Andy?" Mulder asked quietly.
"Well, a couple of things. One, I should tell you that you know the victim." Andy shot a glance at Scully, as Mulder reacted.
"Who was it?" Mulder kept his voice steady.
"Nancy Brewster." Andy told him.
Scully placed a hand on Mulder's arm. Mulder looked over at her. "I took her to the prom. It was the only fight Tommy and I ever had. We both had a crush on her for a year and I won. The next year she moved to Chicago with her family and Tommy and I put it behind us. Neither one of us ever heard from her again."
"I'm sorry," Scully said softly.
Mulder looked over at Andy. "What have you got so far?"
Andy looked more uncomfortable. "I don't know what the protocol for this is, but I'd be appreciative of any guidance you can give me - this is a little out of my realm. I can tell you that all the neighbors have been interviewed - no one saw anything. No fingerprints in the house except for Nancy and her sister, Connie, who found her by the way. We found a broken glass pane on the back door and the front door was unlocked, which Connie says wouldn't be Nancy's doing. I'm thinking the killer broke in the back door and simply walked out the front, as daring as you please. See, the woman was stalked some years back and according to the sister, was fanatical about locking doors and such. Never went anywhere alone. The M.E. called a little bit ago and let me know that there was no sexual assault and no signs of a struggle and his preliminary guess would be that she was forcibly held under the water until she drowned after being hit on the head from behind with a blunt object."
Andy leaned back.
"Have you checked on the stalker?" Mulder asked.
"I said I'm a small town Chief of Police, not a rookie patrolman. Of course I checked - still locked up."
Mulder rolled his eyes as Andy winked again at Scully, who by this time was expecting it. "Save the righteous act for someone who'll believe it," Mulder said, shaking his head.
Andy laughed. "Sorry man, old habits die hard. Never could get one by you, Mr. Special Agent. Guess that's why they pay you the big bucks."
"Well, that and I'm better looking."
"That may very well be," Andy sniffed disdainfully. "I, however, have chosen to go for an authoritative look that compliments my uniform."
"You got that right," Mulder laughed. "So, back to the matter at hand. . . "
Andy brought out a manila envelope and proceeded to pass around 8 x 10 photos of not only the crime scene but the victim as well. Mulder winced and Scully's face clouded over with pain and sympathy at the sight of the dead woman. The poor sister would have a hard time dealing with what she had discovered.
"Connie is going to double check the house in the morning, but she said it doesn't appear anything is missing. She also said that Nancy's desk and papers didn't appear to be disturbed." Andy leaned back in the chair and took another swig of his beer and watched as Mulder and Scully pored over the photos, searching for anything amiss.
It was Scully who saw it first.
