Title: Gutless (Chapter 1 of 16) Author: Magdeleine See Prologue for full headers; all posted chapters can be found at http://shannono.simplenet.com/gutless GUTLESS Chapter 1 U.S. Highway 165 Sunday, 5:18 PM "Three victims, all residents of Tehtonka, Kansas: Lola Marlene Gruber, female, Caucasian, forty-eight years old; Gregory Allen Marks, male, Caucasian, twenty-three years old; Marjorie Elise Bailey, female, Caucasian, thirty-seven years old. Go." "Both female victims lived alone; Greg Marks had been living with his sister, Aimee Lydia Marie Marks, twenty-eight, manager of the local IGA grocery store. Go." "No common traits in employment; Lola Gruber was a substitute teacher; Greg Marks was unemployed, with aspirations of becoming an artist; Marjorie Bailey was a secretary for a local temp agency. Go." "The victims appear to have been killed on a two-day cycle; Lola Gruber died last Monday, Greg Marks died forty-eight hours later, on Wednesday night, and Marjorie Bailey died forty-eight hours afterward, on Friday. The pattern has no apparent connection to the lunar, solar, or astrological cycle, nor to any known occult traditions. Go." "Very nice, Scully." "Keep it moving, Mulder, or you forfeit your turn." "Right. There was no sign of forced entry, no prints on the bodies or the crime scene, no signs of sexual assault or torture, no ritualistic arrangement of the bodies. All three victims were found lying in bed in their own rooms, dressed for sleep, with the lights off. Considering that there were no signs of a struggle in any of the three cases, it's a safe assumption that the victims were asleep at the time they were attacked, and quickly overcome. Top *that*." "Watch me. The first two victims -- and, from what I have been told, the third as well -- were marked by an irregularly shaped erythemic area covering much of the chest and abdomen, characteristic of a first- degree burn. The internal organs had been removed from the thoracic and abdominal cavities, but the means of removal are unclear. Cause of death was most likely blood loss and shock, possibly manual anoxia. Go." "... I don't think I can top that one, Scully." "Well, Mulder, you know the rules. Pull over and give me the keys." "No no no no, waitaminit, hold on." Mulder stared at the endless Kansas highway, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he ransacked his memory. Scully watched him, smiling enigmatically. "Give up?" "Ten seconds, Scully." She tilted her head and smirked up at the ceiling of the Crown Victoria, humming the theme from 'Jeopardy.' "Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doooo..." He shot a poisoned look at her. "Cut it out." Scully cocked an eyebrow at him, barely suppressing an evil grin. "Time's up. You know how this works. It's my turn to drive." "No, wait --" Mulder interrupted, holding up a finger. "Greg Marks was gay." He beamed at her. "Go." She turned a skeptical look on him. "It doesn't count if you make the information up, Mulder." "I'm not making it up." She waited for that glint in his eyes that meant he was joking. "It's not in the file." "I know," he admitted, grinning insufferably in the general direction of a freight train chugging along parallel to the highway. "I talked to a few people. Come on, your turn. Go." Scully considered this for a long moment, weighing the consequences of pressing this any further. "Mulder," she said, "is there anything else not written in the file that you would like to share with me?" "Do I win?" She shook her head, smiling a little. "Down, boy. I'm declaring a temporary time out." "I don't think that's covered in the rules." "*Mulder*." He rummaged around in the door pocket and came up with a new bag of sunflower seeds. He offered the bag to Scully, not taking his eyes off the road. "No thanks." "No, no, I need you to open it. I don't wanna crash the car." She took the bag away from him without a word. Opened it. Gave it back. "Thanks. Sheriff Volney called me shortly after we were assigned to this case -- I believe you were in that meeting about the Erikson mutilation at the time -- and we spoke briefly, man-to-man." "Man-to-man," she repeated, arching her eyebrows at him. He shrugged and popped a sunflower seed in his mouth. The rental car was remarkably soundproof; the vague mumble of the motor and the wheels against the road did nothing to mask the faint noise of the hull clicking against Mulder's teeth ... and the soft sucking sound as he shifted the seed from one side of his mouth to the other ... and the barely audible popping as he cracked the seed gently, expertly. And then, that indescribable liquid whisper that meant that he was flipping open the cracked hull with his tongue, extracting the seed -- "The sheriff is a gentleman, Scully. There were some things about this particular case that he didn't feel comfortable writing up in a report." Scully found that she was still staring at him. Surprised at herself, she shook her head to clear it, and turned to watch the dark green highway signs whiz past. TEHTONKA - 5 MILES. She marshaled her thoughts with a firm hand and took a deep breath. Another. The strange wave of arousal faded away as abruptly as it had started. "I hope," she said, still not looking at him, "that the sheriff's gentlemanly reluctance to breach any sensitive subjects wasn't due to any religious or moral objections he might have." "Actually, I believe that his reluctance is more due to the fact that Tehtonka is a very small town and practically the entire case file of the first murder was somehow leaked to the public. Everything the sheriff's department knew, the local media knew. And frankly, Sheriff Volney does not strike me as a man who likes pursuing an investigation with his pants around his ankles." "Nice metaphor, Mulder." Scully glanced over at him. Mulder took his attention off the road long enough to waggle his eyebrows at her. "Who said it was a metaphor?" She rolled her eyes and turned back to the window. "I was under the impression that they had the leaks under control." "Right," Mulder agreed. "The sheriff got the leaks under control by keeping every new piece of information under lock and key. Half his deputies don't know what the other half are doing, and none of them heard the interview with Greg Marks' sister. Volney did that himself." Incredulously, she cranked back around and stared at him. "How the hell are they supposed to conduct any kind of effective investigation if only one man knows what's going *on*?" Mulder shrugged. "Like I said, Scully, it's a small town, and the sheriff is a stubborn man. You read the file; Volney's been screaming for federal help since the day after the Gruber murder." "Yes," Scully agreed dryly. "Since the man refuses to use his own deputies, I expect the next logical step would be to go looking for some federal agents to do the work." Mulder was shaking his head before she'd finished. "Volney is an arrogant bastard, but you have to admit he had a point. Nobody at the Kansas City field office was taking him seriously. SAC Bauer was ready to come down here and kick his ass personally. Face it, if Volney'd had help when he asked for it, Greg Marks and Marjorie Bailey might still be alive." She leveled an eyebrow at Mulder. "If he'd used his own officers instead of waiting for someone else to take care of it, they might have found the murderer themselves and we wouldn't be having this conversation." "Maybe, maybe not. They didn't have that much to work with, Scully." "I don't have that much to work with, either," Scully informed him, letting a touch of ice creep into her tone. "What else aren't you telling me?" "The woman who found the first body --" "Joanne Gruber?" she asked archly. "Oooh, Scully," Mulder purred, "is the time-out over?" He deftly picked the sunflower hulls from between his lips. That soft, wet sound again. A tiny flash of tongue. Moisture glistening on his lower lip. Scully shivered, and gritted her teeth. "No," she said, half to herself. "Okay," he said. "Joanne was interviewed on the Wichita news less than an hour after she was interviewed by Sheriff Volney. Nobody seems to know how they got her name; the reporter, when asked, refused to name her source." "Great." "The reporter also got Joanne to admit that she didn't remember whether or not she had personally unlocked the front door of Lola Gruber's farmhouse, although she'd assured Volney that the door had been unlocked when she arrived." He scratched under his chin again. "To make matters worse, a friend of Lola Gruber's told one of the sheriff's deputies that Lola was notoriously random about locking her doors, so there was no way of telling what actually happened." "Which, if I remember correctly," Scully said, "was when he called for federal help the first time." Mulder snorted. "Yeah. A lot of good that did him." He popped another seed into his mouth. Scully looked away, forcibly suppressing the twinge of arousal. A feeling of cold dread flooded her stomach. It was going to be one of those days. One of *those* days. Back during the first year that Scully was with Mulder -- with the X-Files, that is -- she'd started calling them Mulder-Awareness Days. They appeared out of nowhere and left just as quickly, a sort of bad hormonal joke that she had to endure as a consequence of being sexually inactive. She'd had so many of those days by now that she'd jokingly catalogued the various levels of intensity. Level One was a day when she'd catch herself staring at Mulder's ass, give herself a mental shake, and go on with life. On Level Two days, Mulder's oral fixation became the focal point of her existence; she'd find herself hypnotized by the pencil- chewing, the lip-chewing, and, of course, the damn sunflower seeds. Level Three days were tough to live through; she'd spend most of the day avoiding his touch; the slightest brush of his hand would be like touching a live wire. Level Three days, to be honest, tended to send her home to cold showers and pints of Ben & Jerry's. "Scully?" She turned to find Mulder frowning at her, concern creasing his forehead. "You were spacing out on me for a minute there. Something wrong?" "No, nothing." She broke eye contact, a warm flush spreading over her neck and chest. He gave the road momentary attention and looked back at her. "Are you sure?" "I'm sure." "You look kind of weird. Are you feeling all right?" "A little carsick, maybe." "Need some air?" "Yeah." Mulder obligingly switched on the vent, and cool air washed over her. She turned away and found herself watching his reflection in the passenger window, tracing the ghost of his face with her eyes. She pulled her gaze away with an effort and sighed, shaking her head. "Better?" "Much. Thanks." This was going to be one hell of a long day. End of Chapter 1 / 17 sections Feedback to playwrtrx@aol.com All posted chapters can be found at http://shannono.simplenet.com/gutless