TITLE: Baton Rouge
NAME: frogdoggie
E-MAIL: frogdoggie@hotmail.com
CATEGORY: SRA
RATING: NC-17. This story contains VERY GRAPHIC 
CONSENSUAL SEX BETWEEN MEN. So, if you don't like that 
type of thing - STOP NOW! Forewarned is forearmed. 
SUMMARY: Another trip for Skinner and Mulder to the hot 
South. A VCS case. A hotel in Baton Rouge. A coming out of 
sorts. Enjoy! FEEDBACK - YES PLEASE, AND THANK YOU 
SIR, CAN I HAVE ANOTHER? Comments, suggestions and 
healthy debate are always welcome. Flames? I use them to 
roast weenies, hamburgers and Italian sausages on the grill.
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING.: After the film I think - next 
season? But I mess with the mytharc a little - I'm not dealing 
with the films events here. This is frogdoggie country - do what 
thou whilst. Some oblique references to Ascension, Anasazi, 
and Folie A Deux.
KEYWORDS: story angst slash Skinner Mulder NC-17
DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner, Dana Scully and all 
other X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen 
Productions and 20th Century FOX Broadcasting. No copyright 
infringement is intended and no profit is being made from their 
use. 
Baton Rouge 
by frogdoggie 
I suppose you'll wonder when I realized I liked men. I mean 
liked them sexually. Well...probably around the same time I 
discovered I liked women. No shit. Bisexual you say? 
Well...Yeah. But with me it's mostly sexual I guess. The genitalia 
are...beside the point really. But, I like to be in love more then in 
sex when it comes down to brass tacks. And hell - that's so rare 
for me that when it happens I don't give a flying fuck quite 
frankly what the other party has between their legs. Christ. 
But I started out with women. There have been several. Did I 
love them? Did they love me? Well, let's examine the evidence. 
After all, I am an FBI agent. That's my J.O.B. - examining the 
evidence. Oh, wait, better yet - let's play that little daisy game - 
you know the plucking thing - *She Loves Me, She Loves Me 
Not*? Yeah. 
I'll skip my high school girlfriend. I barely remember her now to 
tell you the truth. So stick that old flame in the *She Loves Me 
Not* column. 
Next - Phoebe Green. Oh Jesus. Well I guess you can imagine 
where she goes. No - maybe not. The daisy game doesn't have 
a line for *She Hates My Guts*. We'll just put *old Pheebes* in 
the *She Loves Me Not* column and not revisit that sorry 
situation. Love her? Hardly. It was strictly lust left in the dust. 
Hmmm. Diana Fowley. Diana, the huntress in Roman 
mythology. A double entendre there for sure. She did know her 
J.O.B. though. Smart, perceptive woman. I am Christfully sorry 
that she's lying in a hospital bed right now struggling for her life, 
though. It's a fucking shame because I really did like her. I 
respected her and we had a good friendship. In hindsight, I think 
the sex ruined it. Yeah, she doesn't exactly go in the *She 
Loves Me* column. Why? Well, because despite the fact that 
she chased me all the way back to DC - on the hunt, oh yes no 
mistaking that fact - I don't think the pursuit had anything to do 
with love. And in the end that's what broke us up really - she 
was insatiable and well...I just don't burn as...consistently shall 
we say. I'll get back to that point later. Nope Diana would fit 
nicely in a column headed *She Lusts for Me*. But love? NO. 
And like I said we were friends that probably should have 
stayed just friends and not become lovers. 
Marita Covarrubias. Definitely *She Loves Me Not*. And the 
feelings mutual. No question. The Ice Queen. Hey, Ok, at least 
she was a real blonde. But that was about it. Cock teaser. Bitch 
really, but a valuable informant. A one night fuck. And I hated 
myself afterwards because we did the wild thing in a fucking 
hotel room next to the only woman in this whole Godforsaken 
world who I know really does love me. 
Dana Scully. God in heaven. *She Loves Me* and she's the 
only one *in* that whole frickin' column. Listen - I love her too all 
right. Everything we've been through together it's just...I'd die for 
her - OK. She's a dream come true for me. The first truly 
compassionate person I've ever known. Intelligent, warm, 
intellectually and physically stimulating. A Goddess. An angel. 
Scully and I are soulmates. We have a spiritual connection. And 
oh yeah - we're lovers too. So we love each other in mind, spirit 
and body. But even so, the body lovin' bit is a 
little...complicated. 
How can I put this...Scully and I have an arrangement. Uh, 
Scully doesn't...well it's not that she doesn't like sex or is afraid 
of men per se - she just isn't interested in most men. They bore 
her? No that's not exactly it - close but not quite right. They just 
don't challenge her intellectually, or physically - I mean as in 
let's get physical. She claims I'm the only man who does. Well, 
that viewpoint is as flattering as all get out and part of the reason 
I'd lick her sensibly high heeled clad feet if she asked me too. 
Most men are afraid of her though and I think that's more to the 
point. She's a strong woman and most men are intimidated by 
the idea of a woman who can best them intellectually (as well 
as physically a lot of the time). So, she doesn't suffer fools and 
in her book most men are fools. Except for yours truly as I 
said. 
So we have an arrangement, and really we are in love beyond 
words. Dana Scully is a very passionate woman. Not many 
people realize that she burns. They equate her with a woman 
like Marita - an iceberg. But that's as far from the truth as you 
can get. She's a fucking red head for God's sake. And if 
anyone was the stereotypical fiery red head in bed it's Dana 
Katherine Scully. She has an appetite - oh yeah. But it's a 
selective appetite and she doesn't feed it very often.
And remember when I said I didn't burn as consistently? Well I 
don't indulge myself all that often either. 
Sex for both of us is problematical. If we aren't up 72 hours 
straight on a case, with no food except for maybe salt, sugar 
and caffeine, then we are writing reports and filling out 
paperwork. If we aren't on a case or filling out reports and 
paperwork, we could be lying in a hospital bed with the injury or 
disease of your choice, or missing in action all together for 
some reason. In short, we are workaholics. And when we aren't 
working we're trying to take care of our meager personal lives - 
her family, my mother, and then we fall into bed exhausted. So, 
grabbing your partner for a little bump and grind isn't exactly a 
priority you know? 
But hell, we do get horny. And when we want to indulge we 
want too boogie big time. And we want someone who is willing 
to go balls out. And Scully's balls are as big as mine, no doubt 
about it. I love her for that too. We're perfectly capable of 
spending 24 hours together in the sack, fucking each other 
senseless, getting up to eat take out Chinese, shower, shit and 
shave and then we're good to go again. I mean - Thank you 
Lord! When we want it we got it baby! 
So, that's the arrangement. We're there for each other - in 
every way, every day. I don't see other women (since La 
Femme Marita), and she doesn't give a rats ass for other men, 
not really despite that crap with Ed Jerse. I told her once 
another woman wouldn't bother me - I mean her with another 
woman. HA! She gave me an elbow in the ribs. She's not going 
there anytime soon. Of course, she doesn't mind the fact that I 
like men. She wouldn't begrudge me a male lover as long as we 
practiced safe sex. She understands, my Scully. She knows the 
bottomless hole in my soul. The one that craves filling with as 
much love as I can get. The love that I never got when I was 
young. She fills that empty space but doesn't quite fill it up. I just 
need...something more. Something hard, something masculine 
as well. The tough love part - to go with the soft and sweet. Hey, 
I'm a psychologist. I know what that sounds like. I want a Daddy 
*and* a Mommy right? Well, cut me some slack, Mary Jane, all 
right? It's been a bumpy ride.
I teased Scully for being a fag hag once. She gave me the other 
elbow for that remark.  
Now. What about my men? There haven't been as many men. 
But shall we play our little game there as well.. sure... 
I was a virgin with men until I got out of the academy. I mean I 
had the urge but...well I didn't want to admit it to myself. I finally 
got up the guts to confront my feelings enough to get my cherry 
busted though. Reggie did that for me, big time. 
Reggie Pardue. Yeah, I'd put him in the *He Loves Me* column. 
Another partner I was balling. But it went beyond just sex. I did 
love the big goof. We just drifted apart. I was a different person 
when I was in VCS. A prick really and the profiling got to me. 
So, Reggie and I were splitsville and I found the X-Files. But, 
shit. I miss him even now - a lot sometimes. 
Alex Krycek. God, Alex. Biggest mistake of my life, you 
motherfucker. Scully and I weren't together yet at that point. I 
mean we were still dancing around what we really wanted with 
each other. Scully and I as a couple came way after Duane 
Barry. But when Alex walked into my life I was hurting and 
confused enough that I fell for the fucking Ken Doll like a ton of 
bricks. Alex was so sympathetic - the little prick. Little prick? I 
don't think so. And he could use it too. Christ Jesus. But it 
wasn't just the fact that he was a great lover. I thought 
that...well, maybe that...Oh hell! His betrayal hurt me more than 
I can even talk about now. I don't want to talk about it. I just 
want to forget. I hadn't wanted to look at another man for a long 
time after Alex. 
But I had always hoped...hoped that, you know, I'd find a man 
for me as special as my special woman, Dana Scully. The only 
man to match the only woman in my life. I hardly imagined I 
would, and who he would be. 
I mean come on, Walter Sergei Skinner? Who would have 
thought? I've known Assistant Director Skinner for five years. 
Sat across from him while he chewed on my ass more times 
than I can count. Put up with his by the book, tight-assed, fill out 
that form, Agent Mulder, get the report in on time, Agent, I can't 
approve this request and what about this expense Mulder, 
button-down collar, bullshit formality every time I have to talk to 
him. 
However. I'll admit something here. Even while all that was 
going on for five years I looked. I mean I thought about him 
once in a while. OK, more than once in a while. I thought about 
it a hell of a lot after Mr. Walter Skinner had to put his hands on 
me, restrain me a few times when I got out of hand. The last 
time - I mean well, we were pressed pretty fucking close that 
last time. So what if I was scared shitless and he was as mad as 
hell. (not to mention the fact his righteous anger was unfounded 
because I was saving his fat neck, but we won't go there). Even 
under those conditions it was a little difficult not to notice his 
pistol wasn't the only hard thing in his pocket. Yeah. I thought 
about that hard body against mine more than once or twice 
after that little incident. 
Hell, Scully's thought about Walter every once in a while. She 
told me as much one night. I think Walter comes under Scully's 
*might just be acceptable* column as far as men go. Except 
he's the boss for her. So, she keeps her distance. 
And really I couldn't get past that boss thing either. The guy 
exudes authority, projects the dom, the top. That *oh please 
spank me Daddy thang*. He was the best closeted queer I've 
ever seen. So closeted he hadn't even...well I'll get back to all 
that in time. What I mean is - who would have known? But in 
our J.O.B. staying in one kind of closet or another is a way of 
life. So Walter's camouflage was a matter of preservation. 
Walter was married for 17 years and personifies the tight-lipped, 
Mr. Spock unemotional, hardass for his own protection. It's not 
a stupid precaution. Believe me. 
So, although I entertained my fantasies regarding AD Skinner I 
never dreamed...And now I'm in love with him? That's a fucking 
X-File let me tell you. But nevertheless it is true. What's more 
funny folks is, Walter's in love with me too. Honest to God. And 
it all happened so fast. We fell in love - fell - hell yes - like that 
ton of bricks again. Maybe it was the heat. Baton Rouge is hot 
after all. Yeah, it happened in Baton Rouge. 
xXx 
Baton Rouge, Louisiana, in July - Mother of God. It was hot. 
They say that the heat causes more crime. There's a theory 
that says temperatures below 98.6, human body temperature, 
cause crime stats to stay flat or decrease. The cold keeps the 
crooks at home warming their toes in front of their stolen 
microwaves. Above 98.6 the perps are too hot to commit their 
little anti-social atrocities. But right at 98.6 people go a little 
crazy. It was just about 98.6 in Baton Rouge. 
Some bastard was crazy in Baton Rouge that's for sure. As a 
loon. Sexual serial killer. The worst kind. Child predator, 
kidnapper. Baby killer. I hate those cases. Walter always 
assigns me to consult on them because - OK - I am the best 
resource he has to catch the sick fucks. I can profile them and 
the local Fibbies or cops can have them cuffed in record time - 
before they claim another victim. So even though I go through a 
living hell on a VCS consult I understand logically why Walter 
loans me out. I just have a hard time handling it emotionally. 
This time was no different. 
To make matters worse it was a high profile case. The first 
victim had been a police captain's little 8 year old daughter. The 
second, the 9 year old daughter of a noted public defender, the 
third, the assistant district attorney's daughter, just turned 10 (a 
non-partisan killer it seemed), The fourth, the daughter of a 
district judge, 10 again, and the last had been the oldest, the 11 
year old daughter of Senator Andrew Rhodes, the very liberal 
senator for his district which encompassed Baton Rouge, 
Louisiana. The first four victims had been found raped and 
mutilated, their bodies found floating, tied to cross-shaped 
bundles of straw, in the bayou. 
The local newspapers and network broadcast media broke the 
story and then ran with it. They ran it all the way up to a national 
level and now the major national print publications and the big 
broadcast networks, including FOX, were all having a field day. 
The story finally made *The Today Show* and all bets were off 
then - it was a press feeding frenzy. 
The headlines became more and more hysterical, inflammatory 
and spectacular. *Holy War Against the Law*, *The Moses 
Killer*, *Dead Babies in the Bayou*, *Who Crossed Him?* etc. 
etc. ad nausuem. I wish the press would realize when they write 
those headlines that they were fueling the asshole's fire. The 
guy was probably beating his own meat over the morning paper 
by that point. Crap.
The local bureau office was quite frankly floundering with the 
case. They just couldn't come up with any valid leads. The 
importance of the victims families, the age and sex of the 
victims, and the religious Modus Operandi of the crimes was 
causing local politicos to put a lot of pressure on DC. The locals 
wanted to get some help down there to capture the sick dick 
before he grabbed another kid. 
Unfortunately, DC allowed the SAC in Baton Rouge to flounder 
a bit longer and the Senator's daughter got snatched. That's 
when Senator Rhodes squealed like a stuck pig all the way to 
the Attorney General and anyone else who would listen up on 
the hill including the President of the US of A. So, the powers 
that be had to find somewhere to have the buck passed - or 
rather someplace to have the buck stop. Assistant Director 
Walter S. Skinner was called in, and consequently that's where I 
came in as well. 
I don't know if you realize just what Walter does for a living. 
He's one of nine Assistant Directors at the Bureau. He is 
specifically, AD in charge of Criminal Investigation. In other 
words he's in charge of 80 per cent of the bureaus agents. 
Maybe in charge of 70,000 or so cases a year? No shit folks. 
No wonder the guy's bald. He's the head of seven separate 
sections including civil rights, counter-terrorism, drugs, white-
collar crime, organized crime, investigative support, and of 
course violent crime. 
Assistant Directors very seldom go into the field. They are 
rarely involved directly in a case unless it's a very high profile 
one. High profile like a senator's daughter being snatched and 
under peril of death somewhere in Baton Rouge. And high 
profile because the fucking SAC is screwing things up the 
whazoo and the local and national media (fucking short 
memories of the Richard Jewell fiasco notwithstanding), are 
having the FBI for breakfast. 
So, Walter Skinner got the word that he would be going to Baton 
Rouge to kick ass, run interference against the press, and 
hopefully rally the forces to catch the murderer before the 
Senators daughter ended up on a cross floating down the 
bloody bayou. It was going to be a management nightmare. 
Naturally he needed the best resources to help him accomplish 
this miracle. So as I said - being one of the best resources 
brought me into the equation. He would have liked to have had 
Dana Scully too. But unfortunately, Scully was in San Diego 
with her mother. Her brother Bill had been injured in a shipboard 
accident and was in very serious condition. Both women were 
in California to support his wife and children. So, Scully's 
invaluable forensic help was out. Walter would have to rely on 
his ace in the hole - me. 
I knew when he called me up to his office I was in deep shit. He 
looked like he'd forgotten to take his Metamucil that morning. 
"Agent Mulder, sit down." 
Walter has different ways of saying "Sit down." Just by the 
mere inflection of those two words both Scully and I know what 
we're in for. 
In this case the inflection told me something unpleasant was 
lying in wait with his next words. But, and this analogy just 
jumped into my head, and I have to laugh now under the 
circumstances. His tone of voice reminded me of John Steed in 
*The Avengers*. You know when he says that line *Mrs. Peel, 
we're needed?* Yeah, well anyway - I got the idea AD Skinner 
was going to ask for my help, needed it desperately, but his stiff 
necked, FBI brass-assed, ex-Marine assholiness wasn't going to 
let him admit it. He was going to order me instead, and it was 
going to stick in my craw again. But I sat and kept my mouth 
shut - yeah, for a change - and listened to what the man had to 
say. Something about the look in his eyes told me I'd better wait 
and hear him out. 
"Agent Mulder, I'm assigning you to VCS. You'll be consulting 
on the Rhodes case."  
Yup, just like that. No - Mulder, I'm sorry, Or Mulder, I wish I 
could send you *and* Scully, or even Mulder would you like 
Kim to get you a cup of coffee before I stick it in and ram it 
home? Fuck. 
"That baby killer in Baton Rouge?" I couldn't help it. My voice 
rose an octave at the end of the sentence. I sounded like 
fucking Mickey Mouse for a second. An accusatory Mickey 
Mouse. Well, I was pissed. I knew the general information about 
the case of course. I knew it was more than likely going to be a 
nightmare. God damn Mulder torture. 
"Is that a problem, Agent Mulder?" He was stern, stiff, affronted. 
I had smart-mouthed him and he didn't like it. I just stared at him 
for a second. OK. I was going to stick my neck out. I was just a 
little tired of being assigned to the worst gut-wrenching shit 
Walter could find for me over in VCS. I just had to stand up for 
myself this once. 
"You know it's a problem sir. With Scully gone I have to do all 
the paperwork for the X-Files and since we just closed that case 
out in Wisconsin there's a mound of it as high as my butt 
cheeks down there and..." 
"Agent Mulder." His tone stopped me dead then. It was so bereft 
suddenly. Like he had the entire world on his shoulders. And in a 
way he did. The whole world of the Criminal Investigation 
Division anyway. He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge 
of his nose. 
"Do you have any idea what the Rhodes case involves? Any 
idea of what's going on down there in Baton Rouge?" 
"Only what's in the newspapers and on TV, sir." In truth I hadn't 
paid too much attention to the Rhodes case. Like I said I did 
know the rough facts. Scully and I had been out in Wisconsin 
for the better part of three weeks and had returned only to have 
Scully get on a plane almost immediately for her trip to San 
Diego. So although I knew some sick fuck was killing kids in 
Baton Rouge I didn't know all the details. 
Walter put his glasses back on and then fixed me with his baby 
browns. They looked hard, black instead of brown, like black 
marbles and just as shiny with barely self-contained anger. 
"Then I'm surprised you didn't read in the papers, or see on the 
tube, that the SAC down there, Scott Adams, is fucking the 
case up royally and the media is crucifying the FBI just like Mr. 
*John Doe Baby Killer* is crucifying those little girls." He was 
glaring at me and his voice was very low, and very dangerous. 
If I said something snide now I thought - Christ he'll come 
across the desk and strangle me. 
"No, I didn't know that sir, I'm sorry." 
"Yeah, Mulder. Well, babies *are* dying in Baton Rouge and the 
fucking locals don't have a clue on stopping it. So what I'm 
trying to say is I could really use your help when I fly down there 
tomorrow. I know you don't like these VCS consults, Mulder, 
but...I..." 
"When you fly down there?" I asked. I was a bit taken aback. 
First of all that he was at last actually asking me for my help. 
And secondly that he was going down to Baton Rouge with me. 
Of course, it made sense. He had said SAC Adams was losing 
it down there. Walter Skinner had a reputation for taking the 
reins in that type of situation and getting results. So shit - they 
were sending old Walter down to knock heads. Well, well. That 
might make things just a tad more tolerable. Results would be 
paramount under the circumstances. Between the two of us I 
thought, we just might be able to swing bringing in our man. Yes 
sir. 
AD Skinner didn't look happy about the situation though. Jesus I 
couldn't blame him, really. What a shitty position to be in all the 
way around. Hey, I know what I'm like on a VCS consult. What 
I'm like most of the time for Christ's sake. So does Walter. 
Would you want to be working with me under that kind of 
pressure? Right. I turned my attention back to my boss because 
he was giving me his vision of the way of the world. 
"Yes. I'm being sent down to take charge of the investigation," 
he stopped for a moment and then I guess he was trying to 
make things a little lighter because he let his mouth twitch into a 
terse little grin. Just for a second. Hell. 
"The Director is sending in his version of the fucking cavalry," 
he rumbled. 
"Don't you mean he's throwing the Christians to the Lions, sir?" I 
answered. Well, I was going to at least try to match the bitter 
sounding tone that underpinned his humor. 
He barked his gruff laugh. 
"You've got a point there, Mulder." He looked down at the two 
very thick files on his desk. 
"Is that the Rhodes file, sir?" I asked following his eyes. 
"Yes, two copies. One for me and one for you." 
I moved forward and extended my hand. He picked up the top 
file and handed it to me across the desk. 
"Just what I always like, a little light reading." 
"Right. I want you to read it and give me your thoughts first thing 
tomorrow morning. I want you in here at 4 AM Mulder." 
"What time's the flight tomorrow, sir?" 
"6 AM, the earlybird." 
"All right, sir."  
"I'll see you here in the morning, Mulder. We'll leave for the 
airport after we discuss the case. Dismissed." 
So, we flew down to Baton Rouge. 
xXx 
"You really think this guy isn't taking revenge on the legal 
system?" Walter asked.  
Walter was seated next to me on the plane. It was a two seat, 
three seat arrangement. We did have the vacant seat between 
us, for formality, for distance. So both of us could have some 
damn leg room really. Walter was on the aisle, a cup of coffee 
and the partially eaten airline breakfast in front of him. I was 
next to the window and I'd all ready wolfed down my scrambled 
eggs, toast and sausage patty. I like to carb up before I know 
I'm going to go through a brain drain like Baton Rouge. I'd had 
two cups of coffee as well. I'd been up all night with The 
Rhodes Case. It was being called the Rhodes case as in 
Senator Rhodes. Prior to the Senator's daughter it had been 
Baton Rouge case *#gazillion whatever*. I thought it was a bit of 
a disservice to the other victims to change the name. But I 
suppose little Ashley Rhodes wouldn't think so. But I digress. 
I turned and looked into Walter's specs. Light from the airplanes 
tiny window made them look opaque until he shifted to take up 
his fork. He looked tired as well. I new he'd been up with the file. 
He had been phenomenal this morning during our discussion of 
the case. Razor sharp in his observations and inquiry. I got an 
inkling again of what Walter Skinner must have been like as a 
field agent. I thought again how he must hate being behind a 
desk, pushing paper. It really was a waste.  
"He may think that's what he's doing, sir. But in reality I think his 
problems are a lot more deep seated than just being pissed 
because he got a bad deal in traffic court." 
"I have to admit the religious angle does make more sense." 
"Yeah. I'll know more when I get a look at the crime scenes and 
the bodies. But I think we're looking for a white male, 25 to 35, 
basically your typical serial killer. A guy with deep seated 
religious psychopathology here as well. I mean that Moses in 
the bulrush imagery is pretty hard to deny." 
Walter took a last bite of egg and nodded his head. He picked 
up his coffee cup, took a quick sip and grimaced. It must have 
gone cold. I went a little cold with his next words. 
"I've got the bodies, uh, you're scheduled to view the bodies 
first. Their parents really want them released for burial. Mulder 
you realize we probably have only 48 hours before the Rhode's 
girl ends up in the bayou, don't you? That's been the MO up to 
this point. Snatch them, torture them for 3 days and then float 
'em. The damn idiots down there let 24 hours elapse on this one 
before we were called in. So, we've got maybe 48 hours. 
Christ." 
I cringed a little. Wonderful. I had a feeling I'd be viewing the 
victims remains right after the plane landed. If I'd been smarter I 
might not have eaten my entire breakfast. 
"Yes, sir, I'm aware of those facts from the file. I'll be prepared 
to hit the ground running in Baton Rouge. I understand the 
urgency." 
"Good," Walter replied tersely. He nodded his head in 
appreciation. I really did get the idea he was very glad to have 
me along. It made me feel good too. I sort of wanted to show 
Walter Skinner what I could do in this situation. He'd be seeing 
me work again face to face and I just felt like I wanted to do a 
really good job for once so...well fuck what can I say? I wanted 
to impress the boss for once. Hey, even I like to do that once in 
a while. I may be an anarchist rebel a lot of the time but once in 
a while I like to have my ego stroked too. So sue me. 
I was about to ask Walter when we'd be going to the county 
morgue when the stew came by our seats. 
"Can I get either of you some more coffee?" 
The stewardess had been very pleasant. She was intelligent as 
well as attractive too. A tall, leggy brunette with really arresting 
violet eyes. She had joked with us a bit earlier when she found 
out we were FBI agents. I'd laughed like hell because she had a 
very acerbic sense of humor.  
What was funny though was she really hadn't paid as much 
attention to me as she did to Walter. Walter was seemingly 
oblivious to that fact. I mean here's this gorgeous woman, going 
out of her way to be attentive to him and he's chomping on his 
toast and eggs like she isn't even standing there in the aisle. 
I guess there was more than one reason for that inattentiveness. 
He was focused on Baton Rouge. I didn't know the other reason 
until later of course. Besides that, Walter doesn't realize anyone 
could be attracted to him. Not really. I know that sounds 
incredible but deep down the man has a serious inferiority 
complex about his appearance. What's not to like you ask? 
Yeah well - repeat the words bald and over forty a few times 
and you'll get a clue. Never mind the fact that he's built like that 
bronze Rodin statue, *The Thinker* with muscles as hard as 
Rodin gave his man in thought. Walter just doesn't have a clue 
as to his assets. So when someone pays attention to him he just 
doesn't see it. At least not right away. And like I said - his mind 
had all ready flown ahead of the plane down to bayou country. 
And I could understand why that had happened for sure. 
"I could use some more, thank you," he answered the stew, 
extending his coffee cup. And then he did give her a little smile. 
Just enough to be sociable and appreciative. Oh boy. Well, the 
stew was panting then. Oh yeah. She filled his cup nice and 
slow. 
"Is there anything else I can get you?" she asked smiling really 
wide. She was looking right at Walter. Her glance in my 
direction was an after thought. I'm thinking, "Yeah, like a 
membership in the mile high club." 
"No thank you. Mulder?" he replied. 
"What?" Oops I'd been caught in *Wally World* there for a 
couple of seconds. 
"Do you want any more coffee?" Walter asked inclining his 
head at the stew. 
"Oh, no thanks, Nancy, I'm caffeined up just fine," I smiled at 
her as well. She really was a nice kid. Her eyes lit up just a bit 
when I showed my pearly whites. But really I guess I wasn't her 
type. Fine by me. I'm leaning towards petite red heads 
nowadays. Or maybe I should say leaning on. Jesus. I was 
going to miss Scully on this trip. No doubt about it. I made a 
mental note to call her when I got settled in my hotel room. By 
that time I'd really need to hear her voice. 
"All right. Well if either of you change your minds just hit the call 
button," she answered and then she headed up to the next 
occupied seats with her cart full of goodies. 
Walter went back to sipping his coffee and I went back to 
watching Walter. 
Something I need to tell you about what happens to me on a 
VCS consult. I go a little crazy - well, more crazy. You've 
probably caught on to that idea by now though. One of the odd 
side effects, a problem I have, is that I just...I don't know...all my 
senses become magnified. My perceptions are heightened. It's 
almost like a sixth sense. It helps me with the profiling but it 
doesn't help me with my sex life. Why? Because it makes 
whatever sense I have that gets my hormones hopping (maybe 
olfactory?), go on overtime. I mean maybe it is this blood hound 
nose of mine I don't know. But boy I can sense the fucking 
pheromones in the air and wham - I'm as horny as hell. It's a 
fucking curse too. 
On consults where Scully's along we'll usually try to schedule a 
day or maybe two after we get back to DC to decompress. 
Then it's major Mulder comfort for her and Scully soothing for 
me. We end up clinging to each other half in desperation I think 
mostly to feel alive, human again. Sometimes it isn't even a 24 
hour sex marathon either. Sometimes we just sit around, dazed 
- and talk. Or watch some old scifi movie, play scrabble 
whatever. As long as we can touch and hold each other when 
the shadows get too long. But of course we do make a lot of 
love too - it helps us forget everything else except each other 
for awhile so we can back to what passes for normal for us 
both. 
At any rate, on the plane to Baton Rouge my hormone hopping 
hound dog sense was working it's annoying magic. I was 
watching Walter and my pupils were starting to dilate. I'm just 
glad I wasn't sitting in the seat directly next to him. If I had been 
I'm sure I would have been sweating with the feeling of that 
warm, hard solid wall of muscle he calls a bicep pressing up 
against my arm. As it was I was struggling not to get aroused 
and before we reached Baton Rouge I had failed miserably and 
was sporting a woody for Walter like you wouldn't believe. God, 
I hate my body sometimes. And being a man can be a curse in 
a situation like that too, let me tell you. I mean Jesus, I had to 
stick the friggin' in flight magazine in my lap to hide my boner 
and then pretend I was asleep so I could do square roots in my 
head to get myself calmed down. 
However - when we landed in Baton Rouge I had no trouble 
losing the perpendicular pecker. The media and the 90 degree 
heat and humidity took care of that for me. The media and the 
ungodly temperature were waiting at the airport. The press had 
their own hound dog noses in the air at the smell of fresh DC 
meat on the hoof, prime for the slaughter. I started to sweat 
both from the prospect of running their gauntlet and at the 
feeling of blast furnace heat that we could feel even inside the 
air conditioned planes cabin.
The damn heat would dog us during our entire stay in Baton 
Rouge. It was like a malevolent entity in its own right. You could 
feel it, like I said, even inside air conditioned buildings. And 
when you were outside in it...well it slapped you down hard 
under it's heavy, oppressive hand.  
xXx 
"Fuck," Walter cursed looking through the planes window.
"What?" 
"Press pukes," he growled. 
"Where?" 
"In the God damn concourse and the gate area. I can see them 
through the observation windows." 
Walter's jaw was clenching and unclenching until I thought he 
was going to grind his molars down to the gumline. I had been 
asleep (square roots are better then counting sheep), and when 
he moved over to shake my arm to wake me up on landing, he 
got a good look out the little window next to me. Now he was 
stretched across me looking out the window and I was getting a 
birds eye view of the Walter Skinner jaw muscle clench in all it's 
gruesome glory. He moved back and sat down in his seat. The 
seat belt sign had all ready gone off. God, I must have been 
sleeping soundly. Well, I had been up late the night before. I 
would soon discover I was devoutly glad for that short plane ride 
nap. It would almost be the last sleep either of us got for almost 
72 hours.  
"There must have been a leak that we were coming. Scott 
Adams's ass is grass I can tell you that right now. That prick. I'll 
leak him. Crap, I'd like to take a leak on him. Jesus. He should 
have controlled this better all the way around," Walter hissed 
between his teeth. 
"Yes sir," was all I could think to say. I guess I was going to get 
to see AD Walter S. Skinner in action for sure now. I figured my 
best bet here was to keep my mouth shut and go along for the 
ride. Go along or get bulldozed over. So, I just made myself the 
model Special Agent and prepared to lend a hand if need be. 
"Look, Mulder. This could get ugly. Just...keep your lip zipped 
and let me do the talking. Your only comment is *No Comment* 
understand?" 
"No problem, sir."  
"All right. We'll deplane last. That should give the press some 
confusion with the crowd. I just hope Adams had the sense to 
get us some extra interference out there. I want to get into the 
VIP lounge, and then get the fuck out the back door, and 
downtown as soon as possible." 
"I can't agree with you more there, sir." 
"Yeah. No shit. Mulder, listen. I...I'm not going to be very 
pleasant to live with over the next few days until we catch this 
killer. Uh...I want to apologize now for being the *A Number 
One Prick* I'm going to be, all right. Just...do your best. I know 
you will, that's all I expect of you. And I appreciate it." 
I was pretty much struck speechless on hearing him say it. It 
touched me too. The look in his eyes told me more than his 
words ever could convey. He knew we were entering the *heart 
of darkness* and he really was sorry he was dragging me along 
for the descent into madness. But, after all it was part of the 
J.O.B. And for crying out loud I'd seen more weird shit than 
Walter Skinner had ever dreamed of in his wildest nightmares. 
At least I thought so. I thought I was ready for anything. I was 
almost right. 
The plane started to empty out. I was grateful we only had carry 
on luggage. So, no trip to the luggage carousel was necessary. 
Who knew if we'd ever get our luggage. Walter must have read 
my mind. 
"Mulder, watch your luggage, ok. I wouldn't put it past one of 
those media assholes to lift something if they thought they could 
get a lead." 
"Yeah, well, if they think my flying pig print boxers are worth a 
sidebar they're welcome to them," I quipped in an attempt to 
lighten the mood. 
Walter looked at me with a raised eyebrow. But then he did 
rumble his bass laugh for a few moments and I was glad he had 
liked the lame attempt at humor. I wouldn't hear him really laugh 
again until days later. And between then and now it would be a 
long, cruel trip. 
xXx 
The media circled like sharks smelling blood in the water. But 
neither Walter or I was going to thrash around long enough for 
any of them to take a bite. 
SAC Adams as well as his ASAC, Johnson Matthews and 
around a dozen local agents were attempting crowd control. I 
thought - who's investigating the fucking case? But the airport 
was a zoo, filled with roiling, sweating humanity, so I was glad 
he had the extra manpower on hand. Between the print and 
broadcast media the concourse was crowded with more 
reporters than travelers. It was like feeding time in the monkey 
house.  
The other debarking passengers in front of us acted as a milling, 
confused and very satisfactory diversion for Walter and me to 
make our exit from the plane. I went out first, carrying my 
garment bag, and laptop, in the hopes no one would recognize 
me either. It would have worked too if the agents 
accompanying the SAC and ASAC hadn't known my identity. 
But they did, and formed an immediate phalanx around me and 
then Walter as he followed behind me. Crapola. The press 
surged forward all the way from the concourse, like angry 
hornets, buzzing their questions as we fought our way to the VIP 
lounge. 
"No comment?" I didn't even have a chance to get a word in 
edgewise. The reporters were firing questions so fast I would 
have never had a chance to answer them anyway. But most of 
the queries were directed at Walter Skinner. They were all fairly 
typical. *Assistant Director Skinner - What are you and your 
team from DC (oh yeah team, right - Walter and moi), going to 
do to help catch the killer? Has DC lost confidence in the local 
FBI office, is that why you're here? Did the fact that Ashley 
Rhodes was a Senator's daughter bring all the high powered 
guns down to Baton Rouge now? Did the Senator exert 
pressure to get DC involved? If you won't answer now, Mr. 
Skinner, will you be holding a press conference to answer some 
of these questions soon?* 
The last question finally got Walter to stop saying "No 
comment." As we reached the door to the VIP lounge he turned 
to face the crowd of reporters being held back by the bodies of 
twelve agents, SAC Adams and ASAC Matthews. 
"Ladies and Gentlemen. I can tell you there will be a press 
conference this afternoon at 5 PM at FBI headquarters 
downtown. I will have a prepared statement at that time which 
should answer some of your questions. Until then - I have no 
further comment." 
An angry and indignant murmur went up. Exclamations of all 
sorts could be heard. "Prepared statement? Read press release, 
no questions, shit," and "Crap, he's timing that for the evening 
news," and "It figures. No answers and then just a damn press 
release how's that gonna look on, or in, or..." "I hate cooling my 
heels until 5 PM..." "Friggin' DC Bastard, How about some copy 
you..." "What a thick necked asshole," and even a couple of 
"who the hell was that agent with him, the tall guy in the 
designer suit? "I think that's the profiler, what's his name?" 
"Mulder." "Yeah, what have you got on him. Hey, find out your 
own shit..." 
Oh Whoopee! I could hardly wait to hear what they had to ask 
Walter about me at the press conference. And they would ask 
despite the prepared statement idea. That was the way the 
game was played. I didn't have much time to think about 
anything else though. I was being swept forward as Walter the 
SAC, ASAC and the other agents shoved through the single 
doorway into the VIP lounge. 
xXx 
"Christ on a crutch, Adams. Who the hell leaked we were 
coming to those fourth estate ghouls?" Walter asked, red-faced 
as he adjusted his tie and smoothed his suit. He took out his 
handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his face and neck. He 
returned the cloth to his pocket and shifted his neck sideways 
suddenly. I heard an audible crack. God. His neck was cracking 
like a gunshot all ready. 
I felt like I needed to crack my entire body. I also thought I was 
going to melt. I was dissolving inside my suit and I really wished 
I had a handkerchief to wipe my sodden face. I resorted to 
using my suit coat sleeve and watched SAC Scott Adams 
basting in his own sweat as well. Walter wasn't done with him 
yet either. He moved up into his personal space and continued 
his tirade. 
"And what the flying fuck are *all* of you doing down here? Just 
who's minding the store? Is anyone investigating this friggin's 
case? You should know better, Scott. And Jesus - Where's your 
God damned PR man. I know I'm supposed to handle the press 
but not before I even get a chance to take a piss here". 
"Walter, I'm sorry, I have no idea who leaked the information. 
And I thought you'd like as much help out here as possible once 
I found out the media was going to mob you," SAC Scott 
Adams replied. 
"It's your job to know, Adams. Now what about the PR liaison?" 
"He resigned two weeks ago. We haven't replaced him yet." 
"Are you serious?" Walter replied incredulous. 
"Unfortunately, yes, Walter." Adams shot back. His hands were 
shaking slightly. Walter ran his hand over his mouth and shook 
his head. His face got marginally more red and it wasn't from 
the heat any longer. 
SAC Scott Adams was red too with a mixture of anger, 
embarrassment and the heat. It was obvious from the look on 
his face that he knew he was in deep shit. Walter fixed him with 
a very cold look. I could tell he wasn't happy the SAC had used 
his first name, twice. That was really a stupid blunder under the 
circumstances. I mean the guy knew he was in hot water. He 
spoke out of desperation or foolhardiness or both. I had heard 
Adams father was an acquaintance of Walters. A now retired 
agent who, when Walter was still a field agent, had worked with 
him a few times. But his son had over stepped the bounds here. 
Daddy being an acquaintance of the AD wasn't going to be able 
to bail sonny boy out. Not with the total fuck up he was 
responsible for in Baton Rouge.  
The other agents were doing their best imitations of deaf, dumb 
and blind people as the SAC seemed about to face the music. 
They milled about in groups of two and three waiting for the 
fireworks to explode so they could duck and cover. 
Walter fixed Adams with one last glare and then turned his back 
on him to face Johnson Matthews. 
Everyone busied themselves with talking or looking elsewhere. 
SAC Adams hastened to introduce Mathews to Skinner, 
"Assistant Director Skinner this is Johnson Matthews, my 
ASAC." 
Matthews was a short black man about the same age as 
Walter. He looked a little bit like and older version of Barry 
Sanders, the Detroit running back. Matthews was older than his 
SAC. Adams was about my age - and white. Obviously some of 
the good old boy politics were still in evidence in Baton Rouge 
FBI circles. Matthews extended his hand and Walter shook it. 
"I'm pleased to meet you Johnson. Vietnam, Class of 73, right?" 
Walter greeted him firmly. 
"Right, sir. I seem to remember a Walter Skinner in the MASH 
unit around the same time I did my little tour there. Am I correct, 
sir?" 
"Were you that noisy son of a bitch that kept singing those Sam 
Cook songs?" 
"Hell, yes. That was me." 
"Thought so."
"Don't bullshit me AD Skinner, I know you read my file." 
Walter blinked for a second and then he chuckled, "Well, you 
got me there. I wasn't sure it was you until I read the file. But I 
do remember your damn good rendition of those Sam Cook 
tunes just the same. A couple of nights you were the only thing 
that kept me from ripping my hair out - and I had a hell of a lot 
more hair then, even with the Marine regulation haircut." 
It was Johnson Matthews turn to chuckle then but he laughed 
pretty hard instead, nodding his head and saying, "Is that 
so...well shit..." 
Walter let him laugh for a couple of seconds while SAC Adams 
stood by fuming and getting more red by the moment. Walter 
finally interrupted Matthews.  
"Well, I'm sorry we don't have more time to talk over old times, 
but this is going to be a hell of a war here too, Johnson. Can I 
count on you to get the job done?" 
"I'll do my best, sir." 
"That's all I can ask." 
I watched as Walter, with just a few pleasantries had pulled 
Matthews into his sphere of influence and effectively cut 
Adams out of it. The scene did not bode well for the SAC. 
As the three men were doing their dominance dance a woman 
agent had drawn up to listen and watch the conversation. She 
was standing next to me. I figured, what the hell, I might as well 
join in the introductions since no one was bothering to introduce 
me. Just as I thought it Walter spoke up again. 
"I'm sorry, Ladies and Gentlemen," The assembled group 
became instantly alert and attentive, gathering around to hear 
Walter's next words of wisdom. Walter continued and I started 
to flinch because I had a feeling I knew what was coming next. 
"This is Fox Mulder. I think most of you know him by reputation 
as a profiler. You are to treat him as you would treat me. He 
should have your utmost cooperation and free rein to perform 
his job. Believe me he's very good at what he does. If allowed to 
do what he does best we'll catch your perp. Is that clear?" 
There was a chorus of "Yes, sirs." Christ. Well, it was flattering 
of course. But, I felt like shrinking into the cement floor. Shit. 
Walter moved off to talk to SAC Adams and ASAC Matthews in 
private for a moment. He dismissed the other agents back to 
their duties and the assemblage began to break up, taking the 
rooms back door out to where their Bu-cars were parked in VIP 
parking. All of them had assigned duties for now and were 
anxious to get back to them and out of the tension that was 
obviously brewing between the SAC, ASAC and AD. 
The tall, muscular, Hispanic woman agent standing next to me 
didn't leave with the rest immediately. She instead extended her 
hand with a smile, "Nothing like being singled out as the fair 
haired boy, Agent Mulder. I'm Carmen Guitteraz. Pleased to 
meet you." 
"Pleased to meet you too, Agent Guitteraz." I replied grasping 
her hand. I smiled a little sheepishly at her remark. Just what I 
needed - it would be *Pretty Boy Spooky* next if I wasn't 
careful. Her grip was firm in mine. She had a grip like a vice. 
She looked like a female body builder. Really ripped. I thought - 
hell I wouldn't want to go against her in hand to hand - no way. 
"Carmen's fine. We'll be working together. I've been assigned to 
act as your liaison. I...up until now I was as close to a profiler as 
they had here. Degree in psychology from Duke University." 
"Oh, well...I don't mean to step on any toes, here Carmen. I'm 
sure I can use all the help I can get. This case is going to suck, 
really, to be blunt. I would appreciate someone to bounce ideas 
off. If you'll bear with me, put up with my shit, I think we'll do ok 
- deal? Oh, and please - just call me Mulder." I studied her 
carefully. She looked smart. Alert. I was hoping she was as 
perceptive as Dana Scully. I needed someone with as keen a 
mind as Scully had to keep me sharp too in this kind of difficult 
situation. I was hoping Carmen Guitteraz would fit the bill. She'd 
certainly be able to watch my back with no problem. No 
question about it. 
She still held my hand and was looking me up and down pretty 
thoroughly as well. I held her gaze under her close appraisal. 
She nodded her head, bringing her scrutiny to an end, "All right, 
Mulder, you've got yourself a deal," she replied, smiling and 
shaking my hand even more firmly.  
As we got done with our little detente, SAC Adams, ASAC 
Matthews and Walter returned to our side. 
"Oh, Good I see Agent Guitteraz has introduced herself. Sir, I've 
assigned, Agent Carmen Guitteraz as Agent Mulder's liaison. 
She has a degree in psychology and has been acting as our de 
facto profiler on this case," Adams spoke up, addressing Walter 
with deference. No more Walter. It was sir now. 
"Fine. Welcome aboard, Agent Guitteraz. We appreciate having 
your expertise and prior knowledge here. I'm sure both will be 
invaluable. Please accompany us to the hotel. You can fill 
Agent Mulder in on recent data that wasn't in the case files we 
had in DC." 
"Yes, sir," Carmen replied shaking Walter's hand. 
"Mulder we're going to the hotel to check in and dump our 
luggage. Then you're due at the morgue, and after that you're 
scheduled to view the crime scenes," Walter was all stiff 
professionalism now. More ram rod straight then I had ever 
seen him, "I'll meet you at FBI headquarters as soon as you're 
done. I want your report at that time. Be prepared to brief the 
entire team in fact. We need to know who you think we should 
really be looking for." 
Ouch I thought. He was really sticking it to SAC Adams. I 
noticed ASAC Matthews had rather a wry look on his face. 
"Yes, sir. I'd like Agent Guitteraz to accompany me to the 
morgue and the crime scenes," I replied looking at SAC 
Adams. 
"Agent Guitteraz has been assigned as your liaison, Mulder. 
She's going wherever you go," Walter advised cutting Adams 
off before he could even get his mouth open. 
Then he turned on the SAC and ASAC. 
"Gentlemen I want you to come along to the hotel and then we'll 
drive down to headquarters together. I want to meet with you 
both immediately when we get down there. We have a lot to 
discuss, including this God damn press conference. I can't 
worry about your lack of a PR man now. We'll have to come up 
with the press release on our own. So, I hope you're prepared to 
play spin doctors. I need to schedule that team meeting right 
away as well. Have everyone ready to meet with me at 1 PM 
and ready to report in full. All right?" 
Like they would say no? Both Adams and Matthews gave a 
simultaneous "Yes, sir." All of us left the room and headed to 
separate Bu-Cars. SAC Adams was all ready on his cell phone 
contacting the various agents in charge, rounding up the entire 
team to get them back at headquarters for the 1 PM meeting. 
Jumping to it like it was going to save his skin now. I almost felt 
sorry for the skinny little turtle ass. But not quite. Kids had died 
because he'd hadn't been able to handle his job. And now 
Walter and I were here to pick up the pieces. 
I was riding with Carmen to the hotel. The big wigs were taking 
a second Bu-Car, Matthews was driving. I was suddenly 
extremely thankful I had Carmen giving me a lift. One look at 
the SAC, ASAC and AD told me that the air in the car might 
possibly turn blue way before they got to the hotel. Unless of 
course Walter would wait until he got them in separate meetings 
back at FBI headquarters to lower the ax. I thought he might just 
wait. At least to spare ASAC Matthews seeing his SAC's ass 
chewed up and spit out on the car seat. 
AD Skinner had more savior faire then to embarrass one 
subordinate in front of another. No, I figured he'd travel in stony 
silence, letting both men stew in their own juices until he got to 
headquarters. Then I had a feeling I just might be addressing 
Johnson as SAC Matthews before too long and Adams would 
be reading tourist brochures for Nowwheresville, USA, where 
the local bureau office had two men in it - him and some guy 
named Buford who was a couple of years away from 
retirement.
Carmen and I got into her Bu-Car and followed Matthews out of 
the airport, and out onto the freeway towards the Hyatt 
Regency Hotel near FBI headquarters we'd been booked into 
for the duration. 
We drove along in silence for a while. I was enjoying the Olds 
AC after the steam heat treatment of the parking lot. I watched 
the scenery go by for a few minutes and then Carmen popped 
the 64 thousand dollar question. 
"So, Mulder, do you really hunt down little green men or is that 
just a nasty rumor I've heard about you?" 
Oh fuck, I thought. Here it comes. Now I'll lose all credibility and 
dealing with her will be like being a hog farmer. Shoveling 
through deep shit every day on the job. 
"They're gray actually. And yes, all the rumors are true, 
Carmen. Is that a problem? Do you think my unique casework 
will prevent me from busting my hump down here in order to 
stop any more little girls from ending up in the bayou?" I replied 
quietly. I was just so tired of hearing that shit. 
"No, Mulder, I don't think that at all. I'm just trying to make 
conversation. Besides, I...I've followed some of your work on 
the X-Files. I graduated from Duke in psychology remember. I 
just didn't mention my minor was in parapsychology." 
I laughed then. Well, well. Ms. Carmen Guitteraz was a little 
spooky herself. This wouldn't be so bad after all. 
"So, are you a fan Ms. Guitteraz?" I couldn't help smirking a bit. 
It was the relief mostly. 
"Let's just say - sort of a Ms. Spooky, Ok. That is what the 
assholes up there in DC call you isn't it - Spooky Mulder?" 
"Yeah, But they call my partner, Dana Scully, Ms. Spooky. 
You'll have to find another nick I'm afraid." 
She laughed then as well, "Ok, I'll give it some thought. Where 
is your partner?" 
"She's taken a temporary leave of absence. Family 
emergency." 
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear it." 
"Yeah. We could really use her here. She's a crack forensic 
pathologist as well as a brilliant field agent." 
"You must be a good team. How long have you been 
partnered?" 
"Five years." 
She nodded her head and grew quiet. When she spoke again 
her voice was very soft, very subdued, "My partner, Ted Grady 
was killed in the line of duty two months ago. I'm just coming 
back from medical leave myself. I haven't had anyone assigned 
as a partner yet and then this damned serial killer began 
murdering those little girls. It..well things have been a little 
difficult..." 
"I'm sorry to hear that Carmen. Well, with any luck we should 
get this jerk. I'll do my best anyway to see we do get him fast." 
"We're going to have to, Mulder. We only have around 48 hours 
before he kills the Rhodes girl." 
"I know that Carmen. Let's...Why don't you fill me in on the 
most recent information you have. Then I'll tell you the theory 
I'm developing. If we exchange ideas I bet we can come up 
with a total picture and get this fucker dead to rights. How about 
it?" 
I turned sideways and stared into her profile. She was watching 
traffic but her attention had been on my every word. Her hands 
tightened on the steering wheel. I could see determination flow 
from her face through her entire body. 
Carmen Guitteraz smiled an almost feral looking grin of 
pleasure at the thought of getting the perp behind bars, "Oh 
yeah, Mulder. Nothing would give me greater pleasure." 
And as our car sped off towards the hotel in the mornings 
boiling sunlight, Carmen began to fill me in. As it turned out, she 
had been very perceptive in her theories and observations. The 
second crime in Baton Rouge had been that SAC Scott Adams 
had practically ignored everything she had had to say up to this 
point. Sweet Jesus. 
xXx 
*Four little maids all in a row* flitted like a dark, macabre 
shadow, through my mind as I stood in the morgue with the 
coroner, Carmen and the four little bodies each on a separate 
autopsy table. This room was cool. Under other conditions I 
would have reveled in the wonderful cool respite. But instead of 
making me feel better the morgue's AC made me feel cold to 
the bone way beyond the actual number on the thermometer. 
Hell, no matter how many times you face this situation, no 
matter how many times you prepare yourself for it - when the 
bodies under the sheets are this small even Spooky Mulder has 
some trouble dealing with it. 
Normally the air would stink of antiseptic, blood and other bodily 
fluids which could also add to the grotesque aspect of the 
scene. But, I could barely smell anything except the Vicks Vap-
0-Rub the coroner had considerately supplied both Carmen and 
myself with. The whole room smelled like my chest used to 
smell when I had a cold as a kid. 
The coroner and the coroner's assistant had laid out everything 
in a very business like manner. Copies of their findings were all 
available. I'd read them all ready of course - back in DC - but I 
thanked them just the same. 
I examined each body for anything that might have been 
missed all the while wishing Scully were here. I'd barely had 
time to talk to her in San Diego from the hotel after I'd literally 
dumped my luggage in the room adjoining Walters. Walter 
barely had time to take a piss before he was headed out again 
for downtown. I'd excused myself to Carmen and she'd gone 
into Walter's empty room through the connecting door while I 
dialed Scully's cell phone number. It had been good to hear her 
voice. I learned that her brother had been moved from the 
critical to serious list in the hospital. I had told her I wished she 
were here and I'd heard the smile in her voice when she said 
she really did wish she was with me as well. I gave my love to 
her and her mother. When we hung up I thought just how 
valuable she was to me both as a life partner and as a job 
partner. She would have been a great asset here. I had an idea 
what I was looking for but it would have been nice if I could 
have had her expertise. But even without Dana Scully's 
decisive, intelligent autopsy findings I soon found what I was 
looking for. 
"Carmen do you remember your Old Testament?" 
"Some of it, why?"  
"Come here." 
Carmen joined me next to the first girls body. 
"Do you see these wounds - these are all blunt trauma injuries 
according to the report." 
"Right. Isn't that right, Dr. Murphy?" Carmen replied glancing 
back to confirm with the pathologist. 
The coroner had been standing by, staying out of the way while 
I made my examination. Point for him I thought. Also showed 
he had confidence in his work. He had been very thorough. He 
just hadn't but two and two together.  
"That's correct. Blunt force trauma, from trace evidence in the 
wounds I would say he used a rock. A rock high in granite 
content." 
"Uh huh. All the bodies exhibit the same type of wounds." 
"Mulder what are you getting at here?" Carmen asked in a 
whisper. 
"Well, you suggested in the car and I agreed that this perp is 
somehow mixing up a hatred of authority with some kind of 
biblical mania - the floating crosses made of hay and straw 
rushes point in that direction. Now what old Testament figure 
was found floating in a river..." 
"Moses!" 
"Bingo. Now look. What do these cuts on her forehead 
resemble?" 
"Well I don't know exactly, they look random." 
"Those are superficial cuts, Agent Mulder. Probably caused 
when the body was transported to the bayou. We all ready 
know he didn't kill them there."
"I understand that but what you've overlooked here Dr. Murphy 
is that each of these girls is marked on the forehead with a 
different Hebrew letter. The cuts may look random or 
superficial but they really aren't at all. They're just done 
delicately and are quite clear if you know Hebrew at all." 
Murphy walked over and stared down at each girl's forehead in 
turn. "Shit, I'm Baptist, Agent Mulder. How..." 
"Look, it was easy to miss, ok. They don/t look like letters if you 
aren't familiar with Hebrew." 
"So, do they mean anything?" asked Carmen. 
"Gimel, Alef, Lamed, Nun" I spelled out, wishing my Hebrew 
was better. "It could be redeem, or .." 
I shook my head. I was forgetting the rest of the profile. 
"Somehow, though, I doubt our killer is fluent in Hebrew. He 
probably just looked up the letters." 
"So, is that G, A, L & N?" asked Carmen. 
"Well, "alef" is a silent letter so it could really be any number of 
vowel sounds: A, or E, or ...."
"Mulder, the first four books of Moses are Genesis, Exodus, 
Leviticus..." Carmen began. 
"And Numbers..." Murphy finished for her, "Every good Baptist 
does know that, Agent Mulder. I...Good Lord...I don't know what 
to say...." 
"Forget it. Like I said, it was easy to miss -- in fact, it doesn't 
even really make sense outside of this guy's twisted head. I 
mean, Genesis, Leviticus, etc. -- those names come from 
Greek, not Hebrew. And the rest of your report is excellent. The 
blunt trauma is particularly important. You've all ready theorized 
the perp stoned these girls to death. I mean beat them to death 
with a rock. What type of rock?"
"I said possibly granite or marble..." the coroner mused. 
"Like a..." 
"Like a gravestone," the coroner whispered, "Oh sweet 
Jesus..." 
"Moses..." Carmen corrected distantly as she stared at the four 
bodies. 
The coroner began to speak then into the cold, still air of the 
morgue. The hair on my neck stood on end as he spoke. 
"And God appeared to Moses on Mount Sinai and he 
commanded, "Thou shalt set bounds unto the people round 
about saying, Take heed to yourselves, that ye go not up into 
the mount, or touch the border of it: whosoever toucheth the 
mount shall be surely put to death: There shall not a hand touch 
it, but he shall surely be stoned, or shot through; whether it be 
beast or man, it shall not live..." 
"Or apparently little girls as well," I interjected, "Carmen I think 
we'd better get a look at the crime scenes now. It sounds like 
they're all close together according to the file." 
"Yeah, he's been consistent in dumping the bodies. They've all 
been found floating in practically the same stretch of bayou." 
"Good, that'll save time. We need to work fast and then get 
down to headquarters. I have to brief Skinner and then the 
investigative team as soon as possible before Ashley Rhodes 
ends up as *The Book of Deuteronomy*. 
xXx 
It wasn't necessary to go over all the crime scenes as it turned 
out. Two were enough. I'd more than begun to formulate a 
theory. As we returned to headquarters at around noon I made 
some brief notes on what I needed to tell Walter. I thought 
distantly that I should have brought my lap top along. But I'd 
ditched it at the hotel thinking it too bulky to carry around and 
too delicate to be left in the hot Bu-car. Someone was going to 
need to retrieve it for me later so I could use it at headquarters. 
For now, I was resorting to the old fashioned method of writing 
in the little notebook Carmen had given me. It felt comforting 
somehow to see my thoughts go down in black and white. I 
needed all the comfort I could get by this point. 
I hoped to hell we would be in time to find the Rhodes girl before 
it was too late. Up until that point the killer had kept to a 
timetable. The bodies showed up after 72 hours and time of 
death placed at not long before discovery. He left the girls in an 
area where they would be seen floating by someone within a 
relatively short period of time. It showed the killer was bold. 
Confident that he could take risks and not be caught. The cocky 
bastard was shoving the dead kids down the FBI's throat 
because no one had caught on to what he was really trying to 
say with his crimes. 
But I was afraid that he was going to escalate. Decrease his 
timetable because of all the extra publicity - the prospect of 
tweaking his nose at the DC experts would really excite him. 
Get him hot to trot. He'd kill the Rhodes girl sooner then we 
planned and then dump her somewhere really public. Maybe 
she'd be found floating in a public park or fountain instead of the 
bayou this time. Some really spectacular spot to create 
optimum horror and panic. The press would eat us alive as a 
result and the perp would jerk himself off with every new front 
page headline. Groovy. I just love maniacs. Shit. 
The large meeting room set aside as command central for the 
Rhodes case at Headquarters was awash with agents working 
phones, studying maps, interviewing witnesses and just 
generally doing everything in their power to find their man. 
As Carmen and I entered the room, all eyes seemed to turn in 
our direction. It was obvious what they were all thinking. Here 
comes the answer man. And just like a jury coming in to render 
a verdict, all eyes followed us as we walked past the desks and 
tables filled with agents. I kept my eyes straight ahead. I had 
spotted AD Skinner all ready and kept my attention focused on 
getting to him as quickly as possible with my information. 
Walter was near the back of the room, standing next to a long 
table with a huge city map on it. The table stood in front of a 
wide window that ran almost the entire length of one wall. 
Sunlight streamed through it and I thought - God what a stupid 
architectural design. The damn greenhouse effect was making 
the AC work overtime. It wasn't quite keeping up with that blast 
furnace effect. The room was tepid. And I was still sweating, 
ragged from being out at the crime scenes. Lord. 
Walter was talking with ASAC Johnson Matthews. I didn't see 
SAC Adams anywhere near by. O-K. So, something had 
obviously happened. I supposed I'd find out in time. I let myself 
study Walter as he stood in the bright, hot sunlight streaming 
through the window. 
He had taken his suit coat off and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He 
was sweating a little again. His forearm hair gave off a golden 
glow in the reflected sun. I thought he looked even more like a 
bronze statue standing there. I swallowed hard as I watched him 
move to point at the map that was spread out on the table in 
front of him and Matthews. He looked like some big cat, fluid, 
tensed to spring into action. Hell, Mulder, rein it in here son I 
thought. I felt that hound dog hormone thing going on again and 
I struggled monumentally against it. I really did not need to let 
my dick rule my head right now. Please no. Now was not the 
time. I bit my lip hard in concentration. I caught Carmen looking 
at me with a quizzical expression on her face. 
"Would you like a coffee or a soda, Mulder? I...I'm going to get 
a Coke before I pass out from dehydration," she offered. 
I drew my attention away from the object of my inappropriate 
fantasies. 
"Yeah, I could really use some Ice Tea if you have any. If you 
don't, a Coke will be fine. And hell, could you get me some 
paper towels. I feel like I've taken a bath in my suit." 
"I'll see what I can rustle up. I'll be back as soon as I can. 
Mulder, why don't you take your suit coat back off for crying 
out loud. I thought DC got humid too. You should know better," 
she patted my arm quickly to temper her words, and was gone. 
"Hell yeah, I knew better. I'd taken it off at the crime scenes. 
But carrying the fucking thing in the heat had almost been too 
much as well. And DC humidity was nothing like Baton Rouge. 
The air felt like molasses in comparison. 
I continued my progress over to the AD and ASAC, removing 
my coat and loosening my tie as I did. Walter caught my 
approach and motioned for me to come over. 
"Mulder. Good. Do you have something to report?" 
"Yes, sir. Whenever you're ready." I threw my jacket over a 
chair. 
"Is Agent Guitteraz with you? I'd like to hear what she has to say 
as well." 
"She's getting us something to drink. We were both pretty 
parched." 
"Oh. Well that's fine. I need to tell you what's happened here 
anyway". He turned to nod at Matthews. 
"Mulder, you'll be addressing Johnson here as SAC Matthews 
from this point on. Scott Adams is no longer SAC for this local 
office. He's still here, and as far as the public and press is 
concerned he's still SAC. But internally he's history. I've put him 
out in the field going door to door canvassing additional 
witnesses. We need every bit of manpower we've got otherwise 
he'd be on medical leave of absence right now. As it is, as soon 
as this case is closed he'll be transferred to...some less stressful 
office." 
The implication in Walter's words was that Scott Adams career 
with the FBI was over. The Senator would see to that even if 
Walter didn't do it. So, Walter was acting as hatchet man mostly 
out of inevitability. I could tell by his expression and tone of 
voice that he wasn't totally happy about facing that kind of 
outside pressure. But he wasn't completely angry that he was 
doing the deed. He was really pissed at Adams and the fact that 
he was letting him down easy at all was testament to Walter's 
humanity as a boss more than anything else.  
I nodded my head at Matthews. 
"So, what do you have for us, Agent Mulder?" the new SAC 
asked me just as Carmen returned with a cold Lipton's Brisk Ice 
Tea and her Coke Classic. 
"Here you go, Mulder," she said handing me the tea. She also 
handed me a wad of paper towels which I gratefully accepted. I 
swabbed my face and neck quickly with those, scrunched them 
up and then tossed them for a rim shot in a nearby 
wastebasket. I felt a bit better with a dry face. I gave my 
attention back to Walter. 
"Agent Guitteraz, I want to let you know..." Walter began to tell 
her about the change in the chain of command. Just as he 
started to speak there was a growing murmur of voices from 
the front of the room. 
Matthews looked up, "Oh shit," he cursed gesturing with his 
head. 
Walter looked in the direction we indicated and Carmen and I 
did the same. 
"Christ on a crutch," Walter swore. Standing at the front of the 
room with a small group of his own people, and talking to one of 
the senior field agents, was Senator Andrew Rhodes in all his 
florid glory. Little Ashley Rhodes must have been a late in life 
child for him. At least it looked like it. Rhodes appeared to be 
older than Walter, with a full head of carefully coifed steel gray 
hair. 
The senior agent was pointing in our direction and Rhodes was 
nodding and then sweeping towards us like a battleship, his 
entourage surrounding him like tugs piloting the ship into port. 
Any port in a storm I thought, as I watched Walter tensing to 
meet the Senators intrusion. 
As Rhodes drew close I could see the look of worry on his face. 
He looked like shit actually in his expensively tailored Brooks 
Brothers suit. So, the Senator must really love his little daughter. 
I felt my stomach go into knots at the prospect of what might 
happen to the little girl if we didn't find the perp in time. 
Obviously Rhodes had the same thing in mind. He reached our 
table and without even extending his hand addressed Walter. 
"Walter, now what are you going to do about finding my baby?" 
Oh boy I thought. The guys hands were shaking. He was pretty 
much near the breaking point all ready. 
"Andrew I..." 
"Walter, this is horrible, my poor wife..." 
"Andrew, Look. Let's go into this office over here for a minute 
so we can talk alone. Mulder, would you wait here. I'll want you 
in a few minutes."  
I nodded my head again and watched as Walter took Andrew 
Rhodes gently by the arm and steered him into the nearby 
office and shut the door behind them. It seemed like the room 
let out a collective sigh of relief. The Senators entourage of five 
hangers on stuck together like a school of fish, but savvy fish - 
they knew enough to shut up and stay out of the way to one 
side of the room. I turned my attention to both Matthews and 
Carmen. I pulled the tab on my ice tea and took a healthy swig. 
It tasted delicious. 
"I feel for that man," Matthews ventured. 
"Yeah, that kid is his only child. Late in life kid like that too - it's a 
shame." Carmen interjected. 
"Is his wife younger?" I asked just out of curiosity. 
"Yeah. He's about 60 I think and she's 35 or so. He married late 
in life but they had the kid pretty quick. He's OK as politicos go. 
Not any worse then most. Better than some. I hate to see him 
lose his daughter, though." Matthews replied fixing me with his 
cool, steady gaze.  
"I hope he won't either, sir. I'll try to see that doesn't happen. But 
we're going to have to work fast. I don't think we have as much 
time as we originally thought to find her..." 
"What do you mean?" Matthews asked. 
Just as I was about to answer him the door to the office opened 
and Walter stuck his head out. 
"Mulder?" he said gesturing for me to come into the room. I set 
the can of ice tea down on the table next to the map, picked up 
my suit coat, and started to turn to join the AD. But I needed to 
tell Carmen one last thing. 
"Carmen, can you fill in SAC Matthews please. I may be awhile 
here. Thanks." I asked Carmen with a slight grin. She didn't 
know about the change in command yet of course. Both her 
eyebrows shot up and then she smiled wide at Matthews. I 
turned and left them both by the table as Carmen began to 
explain the lay of the land to her new boss. 
xXx 
"Mulder, come in," Walter held the door for me and I entered the 
smaller room. I had shrugged into my jacket again so I'd look 
more formal. Walter once again shut the door behind us. His 
face was impassive but I could see a jaw muscle jump. Senator 
Rhodes was seated at a round table to one side with a paper 
cup of water from the nearby water cooler sitting in front of him. 
His face was ashen. 
"Andrew, this is Fox Mulder. I just wanted you to meet him. 
Agent Mulder is profiling the perpetrator. He's the best, Andrew, 
really. He's going to get this sick fuck." 
Rhodes looked up at me and smiled weakly. 
"I'd like to say it's a pleasure to meet you sir, but under the 
circumstances..." 
Rhodes nodded his head, "I more than understand, Agent 
Mulder. May I call you Fox?" 
"Yes sir." 
"Fox, Senator Matheson speaks very highly of you. I...I just 
hope you haven't, that you and Walter haven't been called in too 
late to do any good. God, that jerkwad Adams. I could string 
him up by his balls." 
"Andrew, Scott Adams' career with the Bureau is, for all intents 
and purposes, over. I wouldn't give that incompetent idiot 
another thought. Let's just concentrate on getting your little girl 
back safe now, all right?" Walter interjected softly. He had 
walked over to Rhodes and placed a hand on his shoulder. 
"All right, Walter. Agent Mulder, can you tell me anything new. 
Anything that will help to find Ashley?" 
Oh Great I thought. I wasn't sure I wanted to tell the Senator my 
findings. First of all the true Modus Operandi and possible 
psychopathology of the killer were horrific enough. My 
conclusion that he was going to escalate wasn't what I thought 
the Senator wanted to hear at all. I glanced up into Walter's 
face. Once again he was very perceptive. When he spoke it 
was to the Senator. 
"Andrew, Agent Mulder hasn't even briefed me yet. I need to 
talk to him, and then he needs to brief the team as soon as 
possible. If you'd like to be present for that briefing I have no 
objections. Uh, but Andrew, it's going to be rough. I'm not going 
to gloss that over. I'm going to have to knock some heads and 
then we're going to be talking about the victims and in view of 
what you're going through I feel I need to warn you that may be 
extremely unpleasant for you." 
"Listen, Walter. I appreciate your saying all that, really. But...I 
just have to know. It's the not knowing that's driving Stacey, my 
wife, and I crazy. If I can just get a handle on the new direction 
the investigation is going to take and maybe have something 
concrete to report back to my poor wife then I'll be satisfied for 
now. I'll handle the briefing the best I can. I want to be included, 
please, Walter. Can you do that for me?" 
I watched Walter let out a long breath. His face softened then 
and he looked really very kind. I marveled at how he was rising 
to the occasion here. I also marveled at just how good he 
looked when his face wasn't a hard tight mask. He looked more 
handsome, tender, gentle and...I squelched those thoughts and 
keyed in on his professional abilities. Safer thoughts. I didn't 
expect anything less then professional acuity from him really. 
Walter Skinner is an excellent manager and people person. A 
keen observer of human nature in his own right. He knew just 
where to bend when necessary. This was one of those times. 
"All right, Andrew. Why don't you and your people go down to 
the cafeteria and get a late lunch or something. I'll send an 
agent down with all of you to take care of anything else you 
should want. When the briefing is going to begin I'll send 
someone else to bring you back up here." 
"Thank you, Walter," Rhodes replied, relief etched in every inch 
of his body. He got up, leaving the little paper cup of water on 
the table and advanced to Walter taking his hand. He shook it 
and said, "Walter I just want to thank you. No matter what 
happens I know you're doing your best. Stacey and I really 
appreciate it. Hell, the citizens of Baton Rouge appreciate it." 
Walter smiled tersely tight-lipped. The last part was political 
bullshit and he didn't appreciate hearing it under these 
conditions and from a reasonably close acquaintance. But he 
swallowed the ire and shook Rhodes hand firmly in return. 
"Thanks Andrew. I appreciate the vote of confidence." 
Rhodes let go of his hand and took mine in turn. He did have a 
firm if somewhat shaky grip. 
"And thank you too Agent Mulder. May God be with you." 
"Yes sir," I answered. God had better be with me or his little girl 
would be doing her baby Moses imitation up close and personal 
with God before too long I thought with disgust. 
Walter moved to open the conference room door. Rhodes 
walked out and motioned for his entourage to gather round. As 
he began to explain to them what was going to happen next, 
Walter called over one of the field agents and whispered into his 
ear. 
"You're off the phones for a while, Phillips. Take the Senator 
and his crew down to the cafeteria and sit on them. I want them 
sequestered, kept incommunicado until I'm ready to let them 
back up here for the briefing. Get them whatever they want to 
eat or drink, magazines to read, whatever. But keep them down 
there and don't let anyone in or out of that room. The rest of us 
can use the vending machines until after the briefing. Do you 
understand?" 
"Yes sir. Keep them under wraps until you give the word." 
"Very good son. Now get going." 
Phillips went to tap Rhodes on the arm and Walter came back 
in the office and shut the door. 
He crossed over to the table, picked up the paper cup of water 
and threw it in the wastebasket nearby then he motioned for me 
to sit down across from him. I took the proffered seat. 
I sat and watched as he removed his specs and cleaned them 
on the handkerchief he took out of his pants pocket. His jaw 
wasn't clenching as much but he looked tired, pinched. 
"Would you like a Coke or something cold to drink, sir? I 
could..." 
He looked up at me, "Drink? No, that's fine. Thanks. I had 
something just a little while ago." He gave me one of his terse 
little twitchy grins and placed his glasses back on. Then he got 
serious, pinning my eyes with his.  
"Mulder, I've worked with you long enough to know what that 
look on your face means. We're in deep shit aren't we?" 
I let out a ragged sigh. 
"Tell me this kid isn't going to die, Mulder." 
"I wish I could say no, sir." 
"I was afraid you'd say that. This guy's going to escalate isn't 
he?" 
"That's my thought on the matter. Did you want Agent Guiterraz 
in here now, sir? I left her outside to fill in SAC Matthews." 
"In a minute. I want you to tell me how many hours we may 
have left here first. I have to consider damage control now too - 
what to do if this kids body shows up. I need to...I need to know 
what the fuck I'm going to tell her parents and the press if we 
don't get to her in time."
"I'd say less then 24 hours, sir. I think he'll do her and dump her 
someplace really public this time. She's apt to be floating in the 
fountain out front if this asshole is as bold as I think he is." 
"Fuck." 
"Yeah." 
Walter ran a hand over his mouth, "All right. Go get Guitteraz. I 
want to hear what she has to say too. She knows the area. 
Maybe she's got some bright ideas. From what I've seen of the 
evidence this guy is good. Very clever. Getting to him is going 
to be like finding a friggin' needle in a haystack." 
I got up and walked over to the door. Carmen was sitting at the 
table with Matthews obviously explaining what had become our 
theory as quickly as possible. As I called to her to come in 
Walter said, "Tell Johnson to join us as well. He should hear all 
this too." 
Both Johnson Matthews and Carmen entered and we all sat 
down around the table. It was pretty close quarters. Matthews 
had fished out some legal pads and pencils from a nearby desk 
for us to all take notes on. We settled ourselves and sat staring 
at Walter to see how he wanted us to proceed. Walter sat back 
away from the table, attempting to put us at ease by trying to 
look more relaxed himself. He studied us in return. Sun from 
the window flashed on his lenses. He finally spoke. 
"Agent Mulder, I'd like for you to go ahead and tell us all what 
you think we're up against. Then Agent Guitteraz I'd like to hear 
what you have to say. Johnson, if you have any ideas can you 
save them for last. I think I'd like to get all this in small doses 
here so my God damn head doesn't explode." 
"I hear you, Walter," Matthews smiled grimly. He sat back with 
his arms behind his head and waited for yours truly to give my 
recitation. 
"First of all I want to say that I don't think we have as much time 
as we thought to catch this guy. With all the extra publicity and 
the opportunity to tweak his nose at the DC FBI along with you 
folks he'll want to strike while the iron's hot. So I think the 
Rhodes girl has less then 24 hours to live."
"Shit," Matthews cursed." 
Carmen looked down at her hands. 
"Also I think he's going to float her boat someplace very public. 
Like a park, golf course or hell - maybe even a city fountain. I 
think he's getting ready to escalate out of control here. It just 
feels that way to me, and he'll want to cause as much public 
panic as possible because he'll get off on it." 
"So should we be telling the Baton Rouge PD to patrol the parks 
more heavily?" Matthews asked. 
"Wouldn't hurt. But by the time you catch him in the park it will 
be too late. He'll be dumping the body." 
"So you're suggesting a manhunt?" Walter asked, "a house to 
house search?" 
"I'm getting to that, sir. If you'll bear with me." 
"Sorry, go on."  
"Ok. Basically we are looking for a male - likely unless we're 
looking at something even more bizarre here - from the 
evidence of rape. I'd say he'll fit the stereotypical serial killer 
profile in that he's more than likely between the ages of 25 to 
35, of above average intelligence and white - they found 
Caucasian hair samples on the last girls body. When we bring 
the perp in, the semen and hair DNA analysis should tell us that 
we have the right man." 
"Right, we're prepared there, Agent Mulder. Now what else can 
you tell us to help collar this sucker?" Matthews asked again. 
"His MO is rather unique and I think that's the clue to 
apprehending him. We need to find a man who has real trouble 
with authority yet is in a position of authority. Also - he is deeply 
religious, maybe even involved in a church somehow. I don't 
think he's a priest, but he may be a lay minister or just someone 
who is very involved in his local parish. His pathology is such 
that he's using the sections of the Bible that deal with Moses to 
teach us all a lesson. I think - and I know I'm missing a piece of 
the puzzle here - but I think these kids - I think maybe they did 
something in his eyes - broke some rule, some infraction that 
he's blown up into a killing offense. Remember - we're dealing 
with someone who isn't operating in the real world here. These 
little girls could have done something as simple trespassed on 
his lawn and he equates that with walking all over Mount Sinai 
and offs them to fulfill that quote in the Bible. 
"You mean the one about God telling Moses anyone trespassing 
on Mount Sinai should be stoned to death?" Matthews asked 
incredulously. 
"Yes, sir," Carmen replied, "The coroner picked up on that idea 
right away. He had...well he'd overlooked the Hebrew letters on 
the girls heads that corresponded to the first four Books of 
Moses. Agent Mulder says that was easy to overlook however 
unless you knew ancient Hebrew." She smiled slightly at me 
and then she continued, "But he hadn't overlooked the fact that 
the girls were stoned to death." 
"Right, I knew they were killed by blunt trauma." Matthews 
nodded. 
"So they were stoned to death?" Walter interrupted, "I read that 
in the coroners report about the granite dust. I just thought..." 
"Sir, my guess is he bashed them to death with pieces of a 
gravestone. I think he quite possibly kills them near a church 
with an attached graveyard or near a cemetery and then 
disposes of the bodies in the bayou on those floating crosses to 
keep with the Moses motif. I think he's trying to send a warning 
that his version of biblical law should never be broken, by 
anyone on penalty of death." 
"Christ," Walter exclaimed, "But you said there was a piece you 
were missing?" 
"Yeah, I can't help feeling that...well somehow I think these kids 
are connected somehow. I'm leaning towards the perp knowing 
them or at least being familiar with them all. Otherwise I don't 
think he could have taken them so easily." 
Carmen interrupted me at this point and I was glad she did. I 
was beginning to run out of steam a little. I was grateful that she 
was taking up the slack. I think fatigue from the heat was 
catching up a little with me. "Agent Mulder and I would like to go 
over all the files on the girls again, sir to see if we can find some 
kind of common denominator. Something they had in common 
that might have put them near their killer. Like they all went to 
the same McDonalds or..." 
"A McDonalds near a church or graveyard?" Walter asked with 
a raised eyebrow, "Because if I hear you right we need to find a 
guy hanging out near a church or cemetery lying in wait for little 
girls so he can bop them with a headstone and then carve 
Hebrew letters in their foreheads because they might have 
picked his prize petunias. Am I close here, Agent Mulder?" 
"That about sums it up, sir." 
"There are a lot of churches in Baton Rouge, Mulder. And a lot 
of cemeteries," Matthews added his two cents. 
"I know that sir. But how many are near the bayous, and which 
ones might be near something else these little girls had in 
common? That's why I think Carmen and I need to go over the 
files. In the meantime, a house to house canvassing near each 
of the crime scenes to question witnesses again wouldn't be a 
bad idea. And also I think beefing up Baton Rouge police patrols 
in parks and near other public bodies of water might not be a 
bad idea either." 
Walter was studying my face closely. He ran a large hand over 
the back of his neck. I could see the wheels turning behind 
those deep brown eyes of his. Come on Walter, I thought. You 
know I'm right. Let's not waste any more time.
He glanced at his watch. 
"Agent Guitteraz, do you agree with Agent Mulder's assessment 
of the facts based on your previous knowledge of the case?" 
"Yes sir. Everything Agent Mulder has said is as close as we're 
going to get to the facts at this point." 
"What Carmen is too modest to admit, sir, is that she'd come up 
with some of this theory all ready. SAC Adams ignored most of 
her opinions," I sighed. I might as well give her the credit. She 
more then deserved it. 
"So I gather. Johnson here all ready told me about it. He also 
tells me Adams did the same with a lot of his theories as well." 
"Fraid so," Matthews added somewhat bitterly. 
Walter set his jaw and sat up straight in his chair, "Well, I'm not 
going to ignore any of it. Mulder and Guitteraz I want you to 
handle the briefing together. Lay it all out on the table just like 
you did here. Don't pull any punches. This group has to know 
there is very little time left to find that girl. Johnson, once the 
briefing is done I want you to organize that house to house and 
then get in touch with the local PD. Tell them SAC Adams is 
asking you to authorize the extra patrols. If they argue about it 
tell them to see me. I'll need to handle the Senator 
unfortunately, after this briefing. I don't imagine he's going to 
take any of it too well. Then, Johnson I want you and I to get 
ready for the press conference. Mulder and Guitteraz, you can 
start going over the files at that point." 
"We can use my office, Walter, if that's all right with you. 
Mulder, you and Carmen are welcome to use this office so the 
two of you can have some privacy." 
"Thanks," I said.  
"Yes, that's fine, Johnson. So...that's may battle plan. Any 
questions or comments?" Walter finished by adding. 
"Sir, not that I want to be mundane here - but I think we could all 
use something to eat. I don't think it's a good idea to skip meals 
under the circumstances. We're going to need the energy." I 
suggested. I couldn't help it. I was starving and thirsty again too. 
I didn't want to get a headache from lack of food or dehydrated 
in the summer heat from lack of fluids. Wouldn't do at all to 
have your premiere profiler passing out on the job. 
"Oh yeah. Well the cafeteria will be less busy after the briefing. 
Why don't we get them to bring us up some sandwiches. That 
way we can keep working." Walter suggested 
"Works for me," I nodded. I just hoped my stomach wasn't 
going to growl during the briefing. Somehow I didn't think my 
complaining gut would help convey the real gravity of the 
situation. 
xXx 
The briefing went well. Everyone realized the time element 
involved and the need for speed. Matthews coordinated 
everyone's assignments after Carmen and I completed our 
presentation. Walter gave his pep talk about teamwork etc. I 
observed him take total command of the room. He wasn't 
sweating at all then for some reason. He looked incredible. 
Authoritative, inspiring. Everyone in the room wanted to bust 
their humps for the guy to find little Ashley or die trying. I 
wanted to bust something else but I shoved the thought into the 
back of my smutty little mind as I watched Walter rally the 
troops.  
He didn't knock individual heads for the failure of the 
investigation so far. He was fair. He just cited what had 
happened to SAC Adams, and informed everyone regarding 
their new SAC, Johnson Matthews. Walter implied that he was 
perfectly willing to take that SAC Adams career change idea 
right down the line if need be to the lowest clerk in the office if 
that person wasn't doing his or her job to the utmost of their 
abilities. Nuff said. 
At the conclusion of the briefing and the reports from the senior 
agents in charge, Walter turned the meeting over to Matthews 
to let him give out his first assignments as SAC. Everyone went 
about their assigned tasks. Walter took Senator Rhodes aside in 
private. The Senator had handled things better then we 
expected but he was still shaken. Walter sent him home to his 
wife to comfort her and wait. Rhodes was best out of the picture 
so the agents didn't have to see him wringing his hands over the 
next 24 or so hours. Johnson Matthews and Walter went to 
Matthews office to prepare for the press conference. 
Carmen and I went back to the smaller office with a shitload of 
files. Both of us took off our tailored suit coats again, slung them 
over chairs, rolled up *our* sleeves and got cracking. Lunch 
appeared. The cafeteria worker left a box full of sandwiches 
and sodas with us. 
Carmen laughed, "I bet that woman thought we were all still 
meeting in here. Ill take some of these over to Matthew's 
office." 
"Hey, that's ok. I can do it. Why don't you keep reading through 
those files? You're local, you may spot something more quickly 
at this point. Besides - I have to use the facilities anyway." I felt 
like my bladder was bursting by this point. I planned on hitting 
the can before I delivered the sandwiches and sodas. 
"Do you know where his office is?" 
"Yeah, I saw which way AD Skinner and SAC Matthews were 
headed." 
"Ok. Just down the hall. His name is on the door. The men's 
room in on the way. And Mulder..." 
"Yeah." 
"Leave me the ham and Swiss, ok?" she chuckled bending 
back to read the file in front of her. 
"Will do," I smiled. I pulled several sandwiches, ice teas and 
Cokes out of the box and leaving the remainder in it headed out 
of the room and down the hallway towards Matthews office. 
I made a quick detour to the men's room, leaving the box 
outside on the floor in the hallway. I hoped no one would kick it 
over. But I didn't think there would be anywhere to put it in the 
men's room. I had been right. I took my piss, retrieved the box 
and continued down the hall.  
I reached Matthew's office door, and balancing the box, 
knocked on it. 
"Come," Walter replied from inside. I switched the box under 
one arm and grasping the door handle, twisted it. I levered the 
door open with my hip and entered the room. 
Walter was alone. He was sitting in a chair looking out the 
window over the city of Baton Rouge. I wondered - where the 
hell is Matthews? But I didn't think about Matthews for long. I 
started to think about Walter almost at once. To think about his 
wide, muscular back. The sweet view of his neck just above his 
collar. There was just a little sweat below his hairline. His...oh 
brother. Not good, Mulder. Not good at all. I swallowed hard and 
hefted the box of sandwiches up in my hands. 
"A cafeteria worker brought this box of sandwiches and sodas 
up to the other office. Carmen figured she thought we were all 
still meeting in there," I said quietly. 
Walter didn't turn his head from the window. Instead he just 
started to talk in a very quiet, dreamy voice. 
"You know, Baton Rouge is a really lovely city. I was down here 
once, years ago...one of my first cases. It's changed a lot but 
it...it's still quite a graceful city." 
I watched the back of his neck. He looked stiff. His shoulders 
looked really tight. The back of his shirt was a little stained with 
perspiration. I put the box down on a low table just inside the 
door and walked over to stand in back of his chair. I looked out 
the window as well. 
"It's a lot like New Orleans without the Mardi Gras trappings," I 
replied. 
"Mardi Gras, shit. That's a zoo". His chuckle was barely audible, 
"Have you ever been to Mardis Gras, Mulder?" he added in that 
calm, slightly distracted voice again. 
"No, sir." 
"You should come down here for it. Baton Rouge may not look 
like it has Mardis Gras, but it does. The party is almost as wild 
as the New Orleans shindig."  
I did something then that, well, I knew was a stupid thing to do, 
but I went ahead and did it anyway. I couldn't stop myself. I 
guess it was just a reaction to the moment. Or my hopping 
hormones rearing their horny little heads. Or maybe just the fact 
that I knew Walter Skinner was under a lot of stress, hurting 
right at that moment in time. 
I reached forward and touched his shoulders with both my 
hands and then I started to knead the stiff muscles at the base 
of his neck. I felt him stiffen up immediately. I thought oh shit, 
I've done it now. Here comes the kick in the ass. But he didn't 
say anything. In fact, he relaxed suddenly and leaned back 
against me, allowing my hands to work his corded tendons all 
the way down into his back. 
I tried to keep my touch as impersonal as possible. To just act 
like this was a co-worker, a friend doing a service for another 
friend in a very bad situation to relieve some tension. But it was 
a struggle. And as Walter's tension started to leave his muscles 
it started to creep into mine. And one muscle in particular. But I 
still couldn't stop. And for some reason I got the idea that Walter 
didn't want me to stop either. Maybe it was the fact that his 
warm, heavy, back was resting against my cock and balls and 
he wasn't going out of his way to shift forward. Jesus he 
smelled good. What the hell is that aftershave, cologne? Old 
Spice? Hell, I think my father used to wear.... 
I felt like I should say something at that point. I was almost 
afraid to speak but I went ahead and took a chance. 
"You...you looked really tight, sir. I...I do this for Scully 
sometimes. It always helps." Christ did I have to stammer? I 
thought. 
He made a small noncommittal noise in his throat and let his 
head sag down against his chest. 
I continued to apply pressure to all the knotted spots I could find 
all the while wondering where the hell Matthews was, but not 
caring in the least as long as he stayed away for as long as 
possible. I wanted to keep touching Walter. I didn't want to stop 
at all. 
"Is this good?" I asked in a whisper as I rotated his shoulders. 
"Yeah. Great," he rumbled, his voice muffled against his chest. I 
stopped rotating his arms and went back to the massage, 
loosening kink after kink as I moved my hands all over his 
back. 
I let my mind wander to images of what it would be like if his 
shirt and t-shirt were off. I'd seen him in the gym weight room a 
couple of times stripped to the waist. That's why I knew he 
looked like that Rodin stature. He was in great shape for a 46 
year old guy. God, I would just like ...someday...to touch...to 
touch...stroke his naked....ssskin...I wasn't paying attention. I 
had let my hands stray to either side of his head and my 
impersonal touch had turned to more of a caress. 
"Mulder..." 
I held my breath. Oh God, I'm a dead man." 
"Sir?" I choked out. 
"Agent Scully is a very lucky woman." 
My mouth dropped open, but before I could say anything else I 
heard someone clear their throat behind me. I let go of Walter's 
head like I'd been burned. I was incredibly hot. I was partly erect 
and my breath had picked up enough that my arousal was 
going to be obvious to whoever was standing behind me. I 
thought - please don't let it be Matthews. But what if it was...oh 
shit. I turned around to see Carmen Guittiraz standing in the 
doorway, my cell phone in her hand and a puzzled, but amused 
look on her face. 
"Agent Mulder, you're cell phone was ringing so I took the liberty 
of answering it. It's your partner, Dana Scully, calling from San 
Diego." 
"Speak of the devil," I just managed to croak out. I beat a hasty 
retreat away from Walter's chair and I could hear him stand up 
behind me. I reached Carmen's side in three quick strides and 
relieved her of my cell phone.  
"Thanks Carmen. I'll be back down to the other office in a 
couple of minutes." She grinned at me slightly. Looked from me 
back over to Walter and turning on her heel disappeared from 
whence she had come. Oh wonderful. She must have been 
standing there long enough to see me feeling up my boss. OK. 
Well the ball was in her court. I wasn't going to bring up the 
issue if she didn't say anything. If she did I'd cross that bridge 
when I came to it. I put the cell phone to my ear and spoke into 
the opposite end. 
"Scully can you hang on a second? I need to finish up with AD 
Skinner." Finish up? Oh fuck, no kidding. I was more than 
finished. I was very well done meat. Burned toast. Oh crap. 
"All right, Mulder. I'll hang on," Scully replied from the other end. 
She sounded much less tense. It sounded like good news was 
in the offing. I felt a bit better thinking about her. I let my mind 
focus on thoughts of Scully. Thinking of Scully started to drive 
Walter out of my mind. 
I turned towards Walter where he was standing with his back 
against the windows now. The sun made him nothing but a 
black outline. I couldn't see his face, the expression on it or the 
one in his eyes. But his posture told me that he'd more than 
known what I'd been doing. Known and wasn't quite sure how to 
react. But he wasn't leaning towards anger. If anything his 
posture was attentive. Questioning. I mulled that idea over for a 
split second and then decided I really wanted to get back to 
talking to Scully. 
"I'll just take this call down the hall," I told him gesturing out the 
door. 
"Fine, Agent Mulder," he replied in that gruff voice of his, 
"thanks for bringing in the sandwiches and sodas." He turned 
away from me again and his gaze took in the city view once 
more. 
O-K. So he wasn't going to say anything right now either. Fine 
by me. I'd just as soon put a bag over my head and hide my 
shame then talk to him about what just happened. I nodded in 
understanding and left in a big, hurry, passing Johnson 
Matthews as he walked back up the hallway, his arms full of 
files. 
xXx
Scully' brother had turned the corner and was going to pull 
through. He'd have a long recuperation ahead of him but with 
any luck he'd be able to return to duty eventually. Scully was 
going to spend another week helping her sister-in-law to deal 
with the situation and then she and her mother would fly back to 
DC together. I wished her and her family well, told her I missed 
her terribly (which was really true at that point) and I looked 
forward to seeing her back in DC. I didn't dwell on the case. 
She had seen enough of it in the news to know it was 
horrendous. I didn't see the need to make her worry about me 
when she had enough on her mind all ready. She would 
certainly be seeing a lot more news soon anyway after the 
press conference. 
After the call I'd gone back to join Carmen Guitteraz in the 
second office where she sat up to her ears in case files.
I entered silently, leaving the door open to keep the AC 
circulating to a bearable level. I grabbed a sandwich and can of 
ice tea and sat down across from her at the round table. I was 
surprised to see my laptop resting there.
Carmen noticed my raised eyebrows. 
"I had Agent Sanders go to your hotel room and retrieve your 
laptop. I hope you don't mine. I hate the things personally. But 
I'm somewhat of a Luddite. Ted used to make fun of me..." she 
let her voice trail off, a furrow on her brow. 
"Oh, hey, no problem. Thanks. Scully tells me my lap top and 
cell phone are like my security blankets. She's probably right. I 
appreciate you having it brought down." 
She nodded and went back to her files. I opened the laptop and 
booted it up. I had some additional information in the thing on 
the Old Testament I thought. Something I'd stored from a 
couple of X-Files ago. Maybe it would help I thought as I 
grabbed for a file from the stack sitting between us while the PC 
woke up. 
The clock on the wall said 3:15 PM. Not much time left until the 
press conference. I had hoped we'd have that last piece of the 
puzzle by that point. I would have liked to be able to hand Walter 
the pigs head on a platter so he could stand up in front of the 
media and say - "We got our man." And preferably got him 
before he'd added Ashley to the list of victims. But it looked like 
those prospects were fading fast. Carmen and I were working 
our asses off and not making much headway. But we were 
working well together. Smoothly. if something was to be found I 
thought we'd be more then capable of finding it. And I really did 
think the last clue was somewhere in the morass of data sitting 
on that table.
It felt so close... 
Besides the hard work giving me the idea that a solution was 
very close at hand, the only other good thing about the short 
time factor and nose to the grindstone demeanor of both myself 
and Carmen was that it eliminated any *Nosey Parker* 
questions from my liaison. She was curious about what had 
gone on between Walter and me earlier. I did catch her giving 
me a couple of appraising looks but that was all. As I ate my 
ham and Swiss cheese sandwich and drank my tea she ate 
hers and sipped on another Coke Classic. We were both on 
cold caffeine. Not a bad idea I thought. Both of us buried our 
heads in files and plunged on.  
4:00 PM rolled around and Walter came in through the office 
door. 
"Mulder?" I looked up and read the obvious question on his 
face. 
"Nothing yet, Carmen?" 
"No. I'm tracing the girl's whereabouts on the day each of them 
was taken right now - but so far zilch." 
"All right, Look. I don't want either of you at this press 
conference. I'd just as soon have you up here continuing to 
work on this angle. There isn't much time and I don't think your 
talents should be wasted fielding idiot questions from the 
fucking media." 
"I appreciate that, sir." I replied. No shit. I knew what the 
newshounds would want from me. My *Close Encounters of the 
Third Kind* life story. Walter knew it too. Neither one of us 
wanted my work on the X-Files to detract from the importance 
of this case. I'd probably stay in seclusion up here unless I was 
really needed in the field - which I hoped I wasn't. I'd be 
perfectly content to play Mycroft Holmes in the FBI Diogenes 
club, solving the case in my head to the successful conclusion. 
Fine by me. When the time was right I'd even let Carmen take 
all the credit and deal with the press as well. She'd do just fine in 
that area. 
"I thought you might, Mulder," Walter nodded a knowing smile 
just gracing his lips, "Johnson and I have come up with a 
prepared statement anyway. I don't intend to answer very many 
questions either. We're going to release to the press just enough 
information about the case and the perp to get the public 
involved a bit in trying to apprehend him. I don't like this idea but 
Senator Rhodes is offering a reward. His representative will be 
in on the press conference as well," he shook his head and 
pushed his glasses up his nose, "I guess that will divert some 
attention off me at least," he sighed and gave us a tight smile. 
Despite the put upon attitude Walter seemed a bit refreshed. He 
was gearing up for battle. His eyes were alert and sharp. Shit he 
looked good I thought. Yeah, like a God damn Greek General at 
the walls of Troy. I smiled back. So did Carmen. 
"Having the citizens of Baton Rouge acting as eyes and ears 
can't be too bad an idea, sir," Carmen added kindly. She was 
studying Walter carefully. I could tell she respected him. She 
knew he was working hard to see things were done right and 
came to the best conclusion if at all possible. 
"I hope we're right there but I do tend to agree with you, Agent 
Guitteraz. So, you two keep plugging away too. If you come up 
with anything we can use - sing out." 
"We will sir," I replied. 
"Good luck," Carmen added. 
Walter nodded and then he ran his hand over his chin. He 
grinned a little wider, "Hell, I'd better see if Johnson has a razor. 
I left mine in the hotel. I don't want to go downstairs looking like 
a God damn street person."  
"No danger of that, sir," I chimed in a bit too brightly, eagerness 
in my voice before I thought better of it. Oh shit. Way to go 
Mulder. Let's just tell him he looks like your mental picture of a 
Greek Warrior and that you're warm all over because...Oh 
hell." 
Walter raised an eyebrow and pinned my eyes. Something 
passed across his face, an intense look that caused me to 
swallow hard and press my legs together under the table. 
Carmen was glancing from one of us to the other again. 
"Johnson has an electric razor in his office, sir. I'm sure he'd be 
happy to let you use it," she interjected quickly, defusing the 
electricity in the air. 
Walter's eyes lifted from mine and I felt like a rabbit that had 
been released suddenly from the hawk's predatory gaze. His 
eyes relaxed their heated look a bit and settled back into their 
former ready for battle alertness. He focused on Carmen. 
"Thank you, Agent Guitteraz. I'll probably ask him to use it." He 
nodded one more time, turned and was gone. I let my breath 
out in a rush. I hadn't even been aware I was holding it. 
"He's kind of intense isn't he?" Carmen asked carefully. 
"Intense? He's a slave driver," I said absentmindedly. Slave? 
Oh yeah. I wanted to be his slave. His naked, oiled up boy toy, 
fanning his hard, muscled, reclining....Oh Jesus. I was still 
staring at the spot Walter had just vacated. I thought in panic for 
a moment that if I wasn't careful I'd be panting, drooling or 
letting my tongue hang out in a second. I pulled my eyes away 
from the door and back over to Carmen's face. 
Oh Fuck I thought instantly. The look on her face told me one 
thing before she slammed it down into impassive regard. 
Busted. She knew where I was coming from all right as far as 
Walter was concerned. Great. I could see the unasked question 
before she sealed her face up tight. She was almost as good as 
Scully at masking her emotions. Almost but not quite. I thought I 
had to say something. Maybe it wasn't a good idea but my gut 
was ruling my head right then I had the urge to either scream of 
try to deflect the situation. I opted for deflection. 
"Carmen..." I began. 
"Look, Mulder. Uh, let's not go there right now, OK. I...we can 
talk later. I really think we need to concentrate on these files. 
Don't worry about it. Just...which file is that you're looking at 
now?" 
I stared at her for a second. Yeah. She was more than right. 
Shit. My rampaging hormones and sex fantasies were the last 
thing that should be on the table here. We needed to get down 
to business and get down to it fast or a little girl was going to die. 
I castigated myself mentally. I needed a good kick in the ass. 
"Mulder?" 
"Yeah. Sorry. Ok. These are background files on the girls. I 
mean vaccination, dental, school records, that kind of thing." 
"Oh. Listen. Let's switch files. I'm reading some reports I put 
together here and they're too familiar. I think Marge Blake put 
those notes you have there together. Let me look at her notes 
and I think I'm more likely to spot something." 
"Sure," I breathed out, passing the file across the table towards 
her. 
xXx 
The press conference ended and we still hadn't found anything. 
I heard people talking outside the office about how it had gone. 
It sounded like the score had been Walter Skinner 1 press zip 
but I couldn't be sure. I couldn't afford to concentrate on the 
conversation. I needed to stay focused on the matter at hand. 
Walter came back by again and told us things had indeed gone 
well. Matthews and he were going to help man the phones. 
Calls from citizens would start to come in. They had given 
phone numbers out for the express purpose of phoning in tips. 
The house to house was continuing augmented now by Baton 
Rouge police. The state police were beginning to pitch in as well 
in patrolling around public bodies of water. The net was 
tightening. I only hoped it was going to catch the fish. 
Dinner appeared. Pizza. But neither Carmen or I touched it. At 8 
PM Carmen looked up from the file containing a bunch of 
newspaper clippings she'd been reading. When she spoke all 
my senses went into overdrive. 
"Mulder?"
"What?" 
"Listen. I'm not sure but..." 
"Do you have something?" 
She looked up and I saw it in her eyes. Excitement. She had the 
scent. I got up and walked around the table. I sat down next to 
her. There was a fine sheen of sweat on her upper lip. 
"Show me," I said quietly. 
"All right. Look. These are newspaper clipping about Senator 
Rhodes campaign. I collected these early in the case from 
microfiche records. I was trying to get at the political angle at 
the time. You know - the idea that one of his enemies..." 
"OK, but that didn't track." 
"Right. Anyway I was just going over these again and I noticed 
something. This article mentions his little girl attending St. Joan 
Antida Catholic Grade School..." 
"St. Joan Antida?" I asked. My mind raced. Click. That wasn't 
right. I knew it instantly. 
"But that's not correct. Where's that other file..."
I plowed through the pile of paper until I came up with the girl's 
school records. I pulled the slim folder on Ashley Rhodes. 
"This says she attends public school. Wait. I leafed to the 
bottom. She enrolled in public school only two months prior to 
her abduction. Before that she attended St. Joan Antida." 
"I told you Marge was thorough," Carmen grinned. I began to 
flip through all the school records. 
"They all attended school together," Carmen whispered. 
"Bingo!" I smiled. Carmen shifted in her chair and I got up then 
and started to pace. 
"Right, right. OK. Now. Does the school have a graveyard, a 
cemetery near it?" 
"Mulder, let me think. I don't think it does. My aunt went to 
school at St. Joans. It's really old. Very exclusive. Shit. I need a 
city map." 
I walked quickly over to the door. The large map that Walter 
and SAC Matthews had been studying earlier was still outside 
on the long table in the big conference room. Carmen got up to 
follow me out. 
Walter was manning a phone at one of the desks nearby. He 
had just hung up and saw me emerge from the office. He took 
one look at my face and was on his feet and at the table even 
before we reached it. 
"Talk to me Mulder," he barked. He invaded my space as I 
stood over the city map of Baton Rouge. 
"Sir, Carmen discovered that all five girls actually attended 
school together. The fact was overlooked because...well 
someone just didn't look closely enough at the files or didn't put 
two and two together until now. It's not important. All five girls 
were students at St. Joan Antida Catholic School. Ashley 
Rhodes transferred to public school only 2 months before she 
was snatched." 
"And this is the connection you were looking for?" Walter asked. 
He stood very close and looked deep into my eyes. 
"I think so. I want to look for a cemetery or graveyard. A 
church, something like that near the school. Carmen doesn't 
think the school itself has anything like that attached to it. But 
she's familiar with the area. We're going to look on the map to 
double check and see if anything else jumps out at her." 
Johnson Matthews had noticed our tete at tete by this time and 
having finally gotten off the phone came over to the table.
"Is this good news?" he asked hopefully. 
"I think so, Johnson. Go on Mulder." 
"Sir, we need to look for a church or cemetery near the St. 
Joan Antida Catholic Grade School." 
"Is that near the bayou?" Matthews asked perceptively. 
"Not within walking distance. But if you take Catalpa Street it's 
within easy driving distance," Carmen answered from her 
position bending over the map.  
"Here, look." 
We all gathered around where she was pointing. 
"This is St. Joan Antida..." she began. 
"What?" Walter asked as her voice stopped. 
"Oh my God. Sirs, this is Divine Savior Holy Angel, three blocks 
away." 
"The church?" I asked bending to look closer. 
"Yes. It was damaged in a fire six months ago. It's a historic 
landmark. Mulder, they're renovating it. There's an old 
graveyard attached to the church."  
I looked up at Walter. He read me again like a book.
"Johnson, I want you to contact both Baton Rouge PD and 
whatever team we have in the area..." 
"That would be Danvers and Washington, Walter." 
"Ok, Good. Get on the horn and tell them all we may know 
where this jerkwad has his little hidey hole. Have them stake it 
out. Tell the PD to use plain clothes and unmarked cars, dicks, 
whatever, just no uniforms. Don't tell them to move in unless 
they're sure something's up and then to use extreme caution. 
We don't want this guy capping the kid because he smells us 
coming on."
 "Are we coming on, Walter?" Matthews asked with a grin. 
"Like flies on shit, Johnson. Get your car." 
CONTINUED IN PART 2