Author's Notes: Thank you all for your patience and thank you Ianna for the nudge. I've had a lot going on, but I don't want to let down my faithful readers. Your encouragement is most welcome. I've got more ready to type up, but just need more time.

Chapter 10

Breathing heavily, the Watcher drove through Quononchontaug, making sure that no one was following. It had been close, especially when Mulder had started to give chase, but the information gleaned from watching first Mulder and then Scully when she had joined him had been well worth the risk.

The Watcher had gotten there after Mulder had fallen asleep in front of the television. What had started out as a fact-finding mission had segued into a nocturnal voyeuristic experience while standing motionless outside the partially open window; the view occasionally distorted when one panel of the curtain or other obscured the field of vision.

The Watcher mentally replayed Mulder and Scully's conversation and knew what had to be done. Now. Without further delay.

Saturday Morning

"There's no answer at Jane's house," Scully called out to Mulder, who was pouring out two cups of coffee in the breakfast nook.

"It's early," he yelled back, "Does she run or jog?"

Scully slipped into her suit jacket for the first time in months and wasn't quite sure how she felt about it. On the one hand, it was good to get back to work, but she had to admit that she was spoiled by the idyllic life that she and Mulder were living here. Which reminded her again why she was so willing to volunteer and accept this assignment – to put a killer behind bars and preserve the tranquil community where they now resided.

She debated on the skirt or the slacks, and then remembered that Mulder had asked her a question. "I don't know if she does, but I went ahead and left her a message telling her to take today and tomorrow off." She finally decided on what to wear and reached for her slacks, feeling like they'd be more comfortable and the brace wouldn't be as obvious.

She met up with Mulder as he was coming down the hallway to check on her progress. "What's in the duffel bag?" he asked, offering his arm for support.

Scully smiled as she allowed herself to be led to the table, eyeing the coffee and cereal with fruit eagerly.

"Change of clothes for the autopsy."

"Bringing your own scrubs?" Mulder asked with a grin.

"They don't always have my size," Scully replied with a smirk.

Mulder chuckled and sipped at his coffee. "Remember you promised to take it easy."

"And I will," Scully reassured him.

"It's kind of strange seeing you in your FBI suit. Amazing that you remember how it goes on," he teased her.

Scully laughed good-naturedly. "I have to admit that it's not nearly as comfortable as shorts and t-shirts." She turned serious. "What about our 'peeping tom'? Were you able to get back to sleep at all?"

"I'll tell Andy about it – let him send someone to scout things out and have a patrol car swing by every so often. As for sleep – I got a little. How about you?"

Scully shrugged. "A little. You know me – I'll probably sleep on the drive to Quantico.

Mulder quirked his lips. "And you know me – I don't need much sleep."

Scully nodded with a silent huff. Just like old times.

Later that morning, Mulder and Andy shipped off copies of files, boxes of evidence and the body of Nancy Brewster with Scully and Deputy Ross Martin.

"Keep in contact," Mulder whispered in Scully's ear, sneaking in a quick kiss when he was sure he wasn't being watched.

"I will," Scully said in a low voice as she used his assistance to get in the car as an excuse for an extra hug.

Mulder watched the van pull out of sight with a touch of unease.

"Hey, Mulder!"

The shout from behind caused him to turn with a jerk to see Andy hurrying over.

"What is it?" he called out, rushing to meet him.

"There's been another killing," Andy told him then lowered his voice. "And there's a note."

Mulder froze. "Dammit!" he hissed, feeling like he'd just been hit in the gut with a two by four. Andy let it sink in, watching as Mulder ran a tired hand through his hair with grimace.

"All right, let's hit that crime scene first, while it's fresh and go from there."

Andy nodded. "What about Agent Scully? Should we get her back so they can take both bodies?"

Mulder shook his head. "Let Scully just focus on Nancy. It'll take a while to get everything together here and it would just waste time that she could use doing her work. Your deputy will just have to make a quick round trip."

His stomach already in knots, Mulder realized that this would keep Scully away for an additional night and while he wanted her safe, he also hated not having her near.

"So tell me what we've got," he said grimly.

Andy felt sure that he knew what was going through Mulder's mind and respected him for keeping his personal feelings contained as they drove to the crime scene.

He let Mulder go in first, taking everything in as they made their way to the bedroom. Both men were silent as they stared at the butchered body; the stench of blood was nauseating.

"Phoebe Donahue, age 29, found by her husband this morning when he came home from work. He's the night manager at the Holiday Inn on the Interstate just south of here."

Mulder remained silent, his trained eye missing nothing as Andy gave his report.

When he didn't acknowledge him, Andy cleared his throat self-consciously and continued. "The husband, David, says that he didn't move her except to check for a pulse. He – uh – well, he says there was so much blood that he didn't have much hope but said he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't even check." He handed Mulder a piece of paper that was sealed in a clear evidence bag.

Mulder tore his eyes away from their victim to read the note.

"That's two."

"Same paw print," he muttered. He looked back at the body. She was face down in her bed. Two blows to the head resulted in a large amount of blood loss and there were strangulation bruises around her neck.

"Bit of overkill," Andy offered.

"This is personal," Mulder said firmly. "This is –"

"Excuse me."

Mulder broke off and turned around. "Yes?"

"I'm Mark Hudson, the medical examiner. The Chief told me that you'd be shipping this body to Quantico as well, but I wanted to let you know from my preliminary exam I'd say that she died between 6 and 7 this morning. The strangulation was post-mortem. I'll have her ready with a complete set of photos whenever you say."

"Thank you." Mulder leaned in to get a closer look at the neck, wondering if they'd be able to lift any prints. He doubted it though. The last crime scene had been pristine. No prints, no footprints, and no fibers. This one was probably just as immaculate and whatever object Phoebe had been struck with here had been removed from the premises, as far as they could tell.

"Andy, I was going to interview Connie this morning, but I'm going to ask you to do it so I can talk with Mrs. Donahue's husband. I've written down some of the things I need for you to address, if you don't mind."

"Sure, Mulder – no problem." Andy took one more look around, feeling the bile crawl up in his throat. In his whole career, he'd never seen anything like this in person and he wished like hell he didn't have to see it now.

Saturday Evening

Finally Andy and Mulder were able to sit down and compare notes. They had put together a war room in a tiny conference room at the station house. There, they had put up a white dry erase board and then literally covered the walls with crime scene and various other photos related to the case. They filled the board with pertinent notes and observations in addition to hanging up a blow-up of the local map showing locations of the two murders.

They set up a conference call with Scully and Skinner, letting them know that another victim would be arriving and the four of them spent over an hour comparing information and results.

On the surface, simply by virtue of living in Quonochonotaug, they had similarities. Same grocery store, same pharmacy, same local doctor and lived within three miles of each other, factors easily attributed to many women here.

Nancy was white, single, 44 years old, had never been married, worked out of her home mostly with the bare minimum of social involvement beyond meeting her basic needs.

Phoebe, married, white, 29 years old, ran the local pastry and coffee shop, a popular hot spot for the nearby college co-eds and was known and liked by all. The eatery was only open 7am to 3pm to allow time to be with her husband.

"No marital discord noted," Mulder commented.

"So," Skinner tried to sum it up. "Probably very little crossing of paths by the two except to the grocery store – different ages, different body builds and different social activities."

"How about churches?" Scully asked, absently fingering her ever-present gold cross.

"Nancy was Episcopalian, and Phoebe was Jewish," Andy piped in.

"Just a thought," Scully sighed, undeterred.

"What did you find on the autopsy?" Mulder asked.

Scully rubbed her eyes, now red and itchy from scrutinizing lab slides, x-rays and lab results. "No forensic evidence so far," she replied wearily.

Mulder was worried that she didn't even try to hide her fatigue. "Get some rest tonight, Scully. You know you're going to need it when the next body arrives."

"I know, and I will. I promise."

"Your mother and I will make sure of it," Skinner said to both Mulder and Scully's surprise. "She says that she hasn't seen you since you got your cast off and neither have I."

"I don't need a babysitter," Scully groused, but secretly pleased for a chance to visit with her mom.

"I didn't say that you did," Skinner shot back, with a smile evident in his voice. "And for your information, she said that you'd say that."

Mulder chuckled. "Good. It's settled then. Now I think we all need to gab a bite to eat and hit this thing fresh. The wording on that note tells me the killer isn't even close to being done. There's an agenda and if we don't figure it out – it's not going to stop until the plan is complete."

Everyone agreed and the conference call was ended. Mulder stood slowly, stretching the kinks out, trying to relieve some of the tension. As Andy silently watched, he did a complete 360, taking in all the data gathered thus far and committing it to memory.

"Keep this room locked," Mulder ordered.

"Not to worry," Andy assured him, "You and I got the only keys."

"Good. Then be careful."

"You, too," Andy followed Mulder out and they drove off in their separate cars.

When he got home, Mulder felt Scully's absence keenly. He tried to convince himself she was safe and tried desperately to find a link between the two victims – a link to put a stop to the violence before anyone else got hurt.