 |
|
La Vérité Nous Sauvera (The Truth Will Save Us) By Char Chaffin and Tess Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 Epilogue Text Only Chapter Two San Diego, California Days Inn Balboa Park Monday, 5:36 AM Fox Mulder parked the rental car across two spaces, killed the engine and rubbed stiff fingers over his burning eyes. He was wiped out. Usually he could sleep on red eye flights, but not last night. Not on a damned twelve-hour airplane milk run he swore had hit every major airport from DC to Los Angeles, with a few po-dunk local runways in between. He'd changed planes at least three times. Well, that's what he got for trying to save the government a few bucks... He leaned his head wearily against the back of his seat for a moment. He'd been tense the entire flight, worried as hell about Scully. Though he knew she was fine - she'd called him back and had explained as much as she knew of what had happened at the San Diego airport - the tone of her voice was enough to set him on edge. He hadn't been able to relax a bit. There had been something in her voice he couldn't readily decipher, and that nagged at him. After almost six years together, Mulder knew all of his partner's vocal inflections. That knowledge had only intensified since they'd become lovers. He'd wasted no time in assuring her he was on his way. He'd contacted Skinner first, knowing their former AD would have little or no influence over AD Kersch in persuading him to allow them access to this case - but nevertheless hoping he might. He knew Kersch would likely dismiss the case as nothing the Feds should involve themselves with. But Mulder was getting - for want of a better word - vibes. As soon as he'd heard Scully's voice on the phone, he'd felt it. When he explained his gut feeling to Skinner, his old boss had merely nodded, as if that Mulder-ish awareness was nothing new to him. Which indeed, it wasn't. And Mulder never did find out precisely what Skinner said to Kersch; he was too busy whipping himself into action as soon as Skinner had called him. "You're on, Mulder - and you'd better play this one by the book... you and Agent Scully." So Mulder had lost no time getting a bag packed and high-tailing it over to Dulles. Unfortunately for him, the decent flights were packed and he was forced to take the damned red eye. Mulder pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes again, released a huge yawn and opened his door, unfolding long legs clad in faded, worn jeans. He stretched as he walked to the trunk, popping it open and retrieving his bag. Scully had told him she was on the third floor; Mulder trudged over to the outside stairway and dragged himself up two flights. Knowing he'd be awakening Scully, maybe crawling into bed with her for a couple of hours before they had to take off for the Balboa Park police station, was the one thing that kept him climbing those stairs. A few minutes later the partner of his dreams was opening the door to him, yawning in his face and offering a sleepy smile as Mulder dropped his bag and scooped her up into his arms, snuggling her close. He buried his nose in her neck; she smelled so good, like lotion and sleep and sweet skin. Her thin nightshirt was wrinkled with sleep and her hair stuck up on end; she had a dried smear of saliva on her cheek and she looked gorgeous. His partner. Now his lover... Mulder kicked the door shut with a booted foot and carried her across the room, gently depositing her atop the rumpled sheets. Scully relaxed against a mound of pillows and watched with sleepy eyes as Mulder began shedding his clothes. They hadn't exchanged more than a tired, "Hey, Baby," and a "Morning, Mulder." They'd talk later, he thought. Right now he wanted only to cuddle her under the covers - or on top of them, didn't matter - maybe kiss a little, catch an hour or so of sleep. She moved over a little as he crawled in and pulled her to him, spooning against her, both sighing at the comforting feel of each other. Mulder kissed the back of her neck and his mumble stirred the fine hairs of her nape. "How long have we got?" Scully nestled back against him and sighed again as he nuzzled along her shoulder. "Two hours, less if you insist on taking a shower. Police station's only about a mile away." She let him get in one more nuzzle, then turned in his arms until she faced him, staring into his eyes in the dim light of the room. Mulder brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and placed a kiss on her cheek, then ran a series of small kisses over her chin, reaching her mouth and lingering there. She tasted as good as she smelled. He could feel himself becoming quite un-tired, in a hurry. They'd been apart for over a week and he'd missed her terribly, though they'd spoken every night. He'd had a hell of a time sleeping in their bed without her and he was beyond exhausted from a week's lack of rest and now a long, crowded flight. But in his arms she felt like heaven and her soft, warm body was awakening him like nothing else. Mulder tamped it down firmly. Even in the dim room he could see the shadows under her blue eyes. Scully needed sleep as much as he did. "I vote for sleep, Scully. You can fill me in later - and screw the showers. We'll just reek together." She chuckled through another yawn, then pushed her face into his neck and managed to wind one leg around his thigh, anchoring him to her body. Mulder pulled the covers over their shoulders and they slept, falling asleep within seconds of each other. San Diego Central Division Police Balboa Park Monday, 8:10 AM At eight in the morning, Central Division was surprisingly busy. Uniformed cops and plain-clothes officers bustled up and down the main corridors and the front reception area was swarming with activity. Mulder guided Scully through a gaggle of what appeared to be family members of assorted age, all berating the hapless officer who'd apparently had the audacity to arrest one of their relatives. They were all screeching in Spanish. Mulder grinned as he caught at least one 'Pendejo!', and a particularly nasty 'Mayate!' from an old woman who looked like somebody's sweet old grandmother. Finally reaching the front reception, Mulder gave their names to a harried-looking middle-aged woman who nodded them toward a set of double doors across the corridor. It took them three tries before they could step out into it without getting trampled; joining the swarm migrating through the doors, they walked swiftly to a small office belonging to a Detective Damarco. Knocking on the door, Mulder duly noted the stacks of untidy files littering the Sergeant's desk, finally turning his attention to the tiny woman who'd bellowed out a rasping "Come IN, already!", to his knock. Detective Rosa Damarco was about four and a half feet tall and probably just as wide, looked to be in her mid-fifties and was dressed in a bright red suit that fit her squat little frame like a sausage casing. Her hair was a wild mass of gray-streaked black frizz, tumbling in her eyes from an untidy knot atop her head. At least three pencils and what appeared to be a coffee stirrer stuck out of what was left of the knot; with some amusement Mulder noted the stirrer was a dead-on color match with her suit. Her face was smooth and round, thick eyebrows frowning at them over a pair of square-cut hot pink eyeglasses. Her lipstick was a shade of orange that clashed horribly with everything else on her person, and when she spoke again her voice took on the quality of grinding, broken glass. "Who the hell are YOU two? You got an appointment?" Mulder shook himself out of the instant and utter fascination this woman was holding for him and stuck out his hand, reaching for his badge with the other. "Special Agents Dana Scully and Fox Mulder, FBI, Ma'am. We're here to talk with Brenda Jordan." Detective Damarco examined their badges silently, then her dark eyes snapped up into Mulder's face, her head moving way back to see his face. She pointed to a couple of metal chairs in front of her desk, grumbling, "Oh, por Dios... sit down! You give me the neck pain, in case you didn't know, you're damned tall!" Scully smothered a chuckle behind her hand as Mulder obediently sat, muttering, "So I've been told, Detective Damarco." The minuscule detective grunted out an irate, "Call me Rosa, I don't answer to Damarco; it was my rotten ex-husband's name. I only keep it for the children. Now," she leaned against the desk and crossed her arms over her ample chest, "You taking this Brenda Jordan out of here? That woman belongs in a hospital under observation. Only reason she ended up here is because she did a real job on Mendoza, the guard she assaulted at the airport. Nobody hurts my officers like that and gets away with it, I don't care how screwed up they are. She also kept the guards up all night with her screaming and carrying-on." Rosa straightened and gestured toward the door, adding, "Might as well go down and see her; maybe she'll scream some more and keep my day crew awake." She bustled toward the door and Mulder and Scully looked at each other in confusion, then shrugged and got to their feet, following the tiny red-suited Rosa. One floor down the main jail and holding areas were interspersed with small interrogation rooms. Rosa unlocked a door and snapped on the light in one of the rooms. Inside there was a long table with several chairs, a fluorescent fixture overhead and a one-way mirror on the far wall. Rosa picked up a wall phone and punched a number, then barked into the receiver, "Bring the Jordan woman to Room two. Jordan, yes! The screamer, that one. Thanks." She hung up the phone and sat down in a vacant chair closest to Scully. While they waited, Rosa filled them in on Brenda Jordan's night in jail. "I have never heard anyone scream like that, never. A real set of lungs on such a skinny woman. I bet she hasn't got a voice left. You the one that witnessed the deal at the airport?" She regarded Scully curiously and Scully nodded slowly. "Yes, I was there. A woman customer choked to death, apparently on a piece of cake. I am scheduled to conduct an autopsy on her later on today - I'm a forensic pathologist as well as a Federal agent - and hopefully determine what killed her." Rosa nodded. "Mendoza at the airport said as much. Said this woman choked and fell over, then the Jordan woman went ape-shit on everybody and tried to run. Oh, here she comes." Rosa met the guard at the door and took Brenda Jordan's other arm; they guided her to a chair across from Mulder and Scully, and sat her down. Mulder stared at her curiously. Brenda appeared to be in her late thirties, slender, with mousy brown hair twisted into a sloppy ponytail and small, red-rimmed brown eyes. Her skin was white-pale and her thin fingers twisted nervously; she looked down and refused to meet anyone's stare. Mulder nodded to Scully, and she cleared her throat. "Ms. Jordan, I'm Special Agent Dana Scully; I was at the airport yesterday. Do you recall seeing me there? Ms. Jordan?" Brenda nodded jerkily, still refusing to meet their eyes. She opened cracked, dry lips and her voice was a mere thread of a rasp. "I saw you. You tried to help that woman." She suddenly raised her head and her eyes filled with fresh tears as she begged hoarsely, "I'm sorry! I swear I am! It wasn't supposed to happen!" She buried her face in her hands and her shoulders shook violently with sobs. Mulder reached out a careful hand and touched her arm, feeling the wild tremors under her skin. "What are you sorry about, Brenda? Please, let us help you. Please tell us why you think any of this could be your fault." He kept his voice reassuring and calm, hoping to gain enough of Brenda Jordan's trust that she'd open up to him... but Brenda didn't seem able to control her emotions long enough to answer coherently. She raised her head and thick tears poured down her pale cheeks. "I can't - I didn't - I don't want to talk anymore, please don't make me talk anymore!" With each word she uttered her panic grew and her voice increased in decibel level, until she was screaming again. Scully resisted the urge to clap her hands over her ears, but Rosa Damarco wasn't so polite. She covered her ears and her bellow of impatience was amply discernible over the screeching. "All right, ENOUGH ALREADY! Knock it off or I swear I'm gonna cold-cock you!" Something in her voice must have gotten through to Brenda, because her screams bubbled down into harsh sobs, her face again falling into her trembling hands. As the distraught woman choked and shook, Rosa looked over at Mulder and Scully and shrugged, "I doubt you'll get anything out of her, Agents. Sorry. I'll have her taken back to her cell, and she'll stay there until I know whether or not Mendoza is gonna press charges." Rosa got to her feet and with a jerk of her chin indicated to the guard at the door to unlock it. Before she could approach Brenda however, Mulder put out a hand to stay her, rising to his feet as well and moving around the table, closer to Brenda's huddled frame. It was a hunch, a feeling - but Mulder was a firm believer in hunches. "Brenda, listen to me, okay? I want you to answer one simple question, and we'll leave you be, for now." He paused and stared at Brenda Jordan, until she looked up into Mulder's eyes, her own red-rimmed and swollen with crying. There was a sheen of utter hopelessness in them. Mulder held her gaze and kept his voice soft and unassuming. "Brenda, I need to ask you about what you meant when you said it wasn't supposed to happen." Brenda's already pale cheeks whitened even more, and she tried to look away, but Mulder wouldn't let her. Somehow it was of utmost importance that she not break eye contact with him. Brenda's mouth started to tremble and a look of complete panic and fear crossed her features. Mulder's question should not be creating such a violent reaction; Scully, as well as Mulder, was stunned when her head snapped back and forth so violently that her hair came undone from its untidy ponytail. The whimper in her throat escalated to yet another screech and she jumped to her feet, tangling them in the legs of the chair as her shouts of denial echoed in the small room. "NO! I don't know anything. Nothing, I don't know WHY that woman died!" As the last shrill word left her throat, Brenda Jordan stiffened and began to choke, her cheeks turning an alarming shade of red. Scully leapt to her feet and caught her as she collapsed, easing her down to the floor, yelling to Rosa to call 911. Mulder dropped to his knees beside Brenda's prone body, working with Scully as she started CPR, his strong hands beginning heart massage... Their eyes met briefly as they worked to save Brenda Jordan, both of them knowing it was just as hopeless... both acknowledging silently that they were facing another mysterious and inexplicable death. San Diego, California Days Inn Balboa Park Monday, 6:51 PM Mulder closed the door behind him and threw the deadbolt, then fastened the safety chain. Ahead of him Scully had already toed off her heels and fallen face-first onto the bed. He shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it on the nearest chair, then moved to the bed and sat beside her, one hand rubbing gently over her neck and shoulders. He smiled at the huge sigh she released; when she suddenly flipped over onto her back his hand found itself stroking one soft breast. She sighed again and Mulder leaned in to press a nibbling kiss to her bottom lip. Against her mouth he murmured, "Before I ask you just how tired you really are, Scully... I suppose we should talk over how we're going to handle this case." He delivered one final nibble, then swung his body up onto the bed until he was prone, slipped his mouth to her neck and felt her snuggle in closer. Scully was quiet for a moment, trailing a slow index finger over his chest; her voice was decisive when she replied, "Well, I see a couple of autopsies in my immediate future, that's for sure. It's only been a little over twenty-four hours between deaths, so hopefully I'll find something interesting and helpful. My 'coincidence-o-meter' can't quite swallow this one, not completely." Mulder nodded against her hair and ran a warm palm over her back, pressing her closer. "Well, I want to go back over to that rental place - what was it called, 'Value-Save', right? - and talk to anyone I can find who was working there on Sunday. While you're slicin' and dicin', I'll be probin' and profilin'..." He dropped a kiss on her temple and shifted her body around so that they lay face to face. Noting the shadows underneath her eyes had hung around all day, nevertheless he was determined to get their minds off work and on to more important matters... such as getting started on their overdue reunion. Bringing a hand around to the front of her blouse, Mulder busied himself with unbuttoning the silky fabric, brushing it back to expose her lacy bra, eyes drinking in the soft skin that swelled against each cup. He buried his nose between them and inhaled her, loving the way she felt, the scent she carried there - the pureness of her, the utter good she always brought to him. He'd missed her like crazy; it had been a hell of a long and lonely week without her. And as Mulder eased her bra away and then slid an eager tongue along each tight peak he'd uncovered, as she purred deep in her throat and arched like a contented cat against his mouth... Mulder could only hope they'd get this damned case figured out, solved and be on their way back home, very quickly. Between mouthfuls of her he mumbled, "You okay with this, baby? Not too tired?" Even as he gave her a handy out, Mulder was already working his way down her bared stomach, unsnapping the side fastening of her skirt, pushing at the material, baring more of her to his eager touch. Above his head Scully chuckled weakly, fisted a hand in his hair and maneuvered his head until it was exactly where he knew she liked it best. Her answer started on that chuckle and ended on the high side of a raspy moan. "Oh, I'm more than okay, Mulder... not to mention truly awake as well, ohhh, Godddd..." Continue to Chapter 3 |
| DISCLAIMER: "The X-Files" TM and © and its characters are owned by FOX and its related entities. All rights reserved. This website, its operators and any content on this site relating to "The X-Files" are not authorized by Fox. No copyright infringement is intended. Site is owned by Wasatch Consulting. Layout by © Wasatch Consulting. Last update, 22 August 2005. |  |