Through the Looking Glass by Lovesfox Headers in Prologue Part 6 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Diary of Liza MacGregor April 21, 1874 Rose has had a miscarriage. It was difficult to hide my elation and my satisfaction. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Front Lobby 8:50 AM Mulder smiled winningly at Lisa, his chin propped on his hand as he leaned with his elbow on the counter. Invading her space just a little. He wasn't disinclined to using his masculine charms to garner information from time to time. The young woman staffing the Inn's front desk didn't seem to mind. Once they had exchanged names –- hers was Lisa Trenton -- and he had revealed that he was an author working on a new book, she had become quite friendly, and open. In mere minutes, he had learned that Lisa was eighteen, had worked for the Carringtons for the last three years on weekends and for the summers, although this was to be her first year staffing the front desk along with housekeeping duties, and that she planned on studying to become a teacher. She had lived on Nantucket all her life, and seemed to be just a bit on the chatty side, as well as very partial to blushing and giggling. And flirting. It was flattering, and a little embarrassing, considering their age difference. For the time being, Mulder had steered clear of anything to do with the disappearances. There was no sense in alerting the Carringtons that he and Scully were interested in more than haunted houses. Lisa was fascinated by the knowledge that he was going to write a book about haunted houses, and had volunteered to ask her granny to tell him stories about the Island. She then volunteered to be his personal tour guide with a blushing and bashful, yet hopeful smile. Mulder had accepted the first invitation with thanks, and now gracefully declined the second. He hoped. A sound on the stairs had him looking up to see Scully descending, briefcase and file folder in hand, and a placid expression on her face. As he watched her approach the counter, he could see the amusement in her eyes, the slightly raised eyebrow. She had obviously overheard the second invitation. He straightened up and put his hand on Scully's shoulder, to introduce his 'assistant' to Lisa. "Lisa Trenton, this is my assistant, Dana Scully." Lisa's eyes moved from Mulder's face to his hand on Scully's shoulder to Scully's face, a tiny frown puckering her eyebrows. "Oh," the young woman said, her voice sounding dismayed to Scully's ears. "Um, hello, Miss Scully." She shifted on her feet, her hands sliding along the edge of the counter nervously, now meeting neither of their gazes. "I, um, hope you enjoy your stay here at Starbuck House." "Hello, Lisa," Scully replied quietly, no hint of amusement in her eyes or tone. She empathized in fact, recalling the summer she was sixteen, and her enormous crush on Bill's best friend at the time, who hadn't even known she was alive. Though Mulder was far kinder than that 20-year old boy had been –- Bill's friend hadn't been worthy of the moniker 'man' yet. "It's very nice to meet you, and thank-you." Mulder's hand slid down to cup her elbow, and he drew her gently away from the desk. "It was nice talking to you, Lisa," he said, looking back over his shoulder at the young woman. "I hope we can talk more later." "Bye, Mr. Mulder!" Lisa called out, her voice perky once more. Scully held out the file she had fetched from his room once they had stepped outside and the door had closed behind them. Mulder accepted it with a muttered thanks, and as he tucked it into his portfolio, she shifted her briefcase to her other hand. They made their way along the path to the carport to their right, while she told him about what she had seen upstairs. "I found the file on your dresser, with some of the papers askew." She paused, one eyebrow arching. "After I found Mr. Carrington in your room, apparently supplying us with fresh towels." "Apparently?" Mulder queried, walking around the car to the driver's side. He had heard the slight emphasis his partner had put on the word. "He seemed rather nervous for someone just delivering towels," she responded, and then waited as he climbed inside the car and leaned over to unlock her door. Settling into her seat and pulling her seatbelt across her lap, she continued, "He was rather jumpy." Mulder snapped his own seatbelt on and started the engine. "Jumpy," he said, once again repeating her. "Is that your medical opinion, Dr. Scully?" "His behavior was certainly...unusual," Scully remarked, frowning at him. He flashed her a grin, mouthed 'unusual', and then proceeded to back the car down the long driveway and onto the quiet street. Once headed towards downtown Nantucket, he said, "I think both the Carringtons bear watching." Scully nodded in agreement. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Diary of Liza MacGregor March 24, 1877 Though my need for revenge is still strong, the afflictions that have befallen Rose mollify me. She has suffered three miscarriages in as many years. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Nantucket Police Station 20 South Water Street Saturday, May 21, 2000 9:15 AM After parking the rental car in the small parking lot adjacent to the Police Department, a quaint brown-bricked building, Mulder exited his door, closing it with a quiet slam. Stretching briefly, he adjusted his holster more comfortably, and then patted his inner jacket pocket to ensure his FBI badge was there, a habitual move. Scully stepped out, briefcase in hand, also shutting her door, and turned in a slow circle to look around. The drive through downtown Nantucket had confirmed her supposition that it was a beautiful place, and she briefly longed for the opportunity to just wander around, to play tourist and sight see. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, a soft, wistful smile curving her lips. "I love the sounds and the smell of the sea," she murmured. While the wharves here in Nantucket were not nearly as busy as some of the naval stations her father had served at, the activity brought back fond memories of watching Ahab shipping out and returning home. "Scully? You coming?" Mulder's voice interrupted her reverie, and she opened her eyes again, embarrassed to be caught daydreaming. To see that he had already started across the parking lot and was half-turned looking back at her, one hand on his hip and the expression on his face questioning and slightly impatient. Nodding, Scully took one last deep breath and strode across the pavement to her waiting partner. They walked the last few feet together; their steps in tandem, and at the door, Mulder pulled it open and guided her inside with his fingers lightly on her elbow. Scully surveyed the large, rectangular room. There was a small lobby with a few chairs, and across a tiled area a long, waist-high counter separating the room in two. Beyond the counter she saw several desks, two of which were currently occupied by uniformed officers, both men. Behind the desks was a long wall, the back of the building, she thought, with a row of windows, their blinds all opened to let the sun shine in. To the left of the 'bullpen' were two doors, both closed, presumably leading to offices or perhaps a storage room. To the right was another door, partially opened and revealing that it was a corner office, and beside it, a long hallway, most likely leading to the holding area. Another male officer, also uniformed, had been standing at the counter flipping through some paperwork when they entered. At the sound of the door opening, he had looked up, his eyes both friendly and assessing. Definitely assessing his partner, Mulder thought, watching the officer scan Scully from head to toe and back again as they approached the counter, a smile appearing on the man's face. His handsome face, Mulder supposed. If she were into tall, tanned men with a perfect set of teeth. Straightening, his hand automatically came up to touch Scully lightly at the small of her back. He let it remain there for a moment longer than necessary when they reached the counter, ignoring the questioning look Scully flicked his way. Scully smiled pleasantly at the rather good-looking man staffing the counter. She had watched his cop's eyes scan them both as they came in, and mused to herself about that natural law enforcement wariness that seemed to come with the territory, regardless of big city or small town locales. "How can I help you folks?" the officer queried then, his smile wider. Aimed entirely at Scully, Mulder noted sourly, his eyes flicking down to the officer's uniformed chest, reading the metal nametag pinned on one breast pocket. MARSTON. Reaching into his inner pocket, he pulled out his ID case, flipping it open to reveal his FBI badge, seeing Scully flash her own ID as well out of the corner of his eye. "Officer Marston?" he questioned, and at the officer's nod, continued. "I'm Agent Mulder, and this is my partner Agent Scully," he said brusquely, refusing to admit to himself that he had deliberately stressed the word 'my'. "I spoke to a Lieutenant Gibson early yesterday evening about a case we are investigating and he offered us full use of your archived case files." Marston nodded smartly. "Yes, Agent Mulder...Agent Scully, Lieutenant Gibson has left a memo instructing me to be at your disposal," the officer replied, directing his answer more at Scully than to Mulder. Or so Mulder thought, as he tucked his ID wallet back in his pocket and tightly smiled his thanks to the officer. "We're staying at Starbuck House to investigate the disappearances, posing as a writer and his assistant," Mulder said next. "Your Lieutenant said he'd have a file for us, with information about the Inn, and its current owners." "Yes, I have it here, Agent Mulder." Marston turned away from them to cross the room to one of the empty desks, lifting a manila folder from the blotter. Returning to the counter, he handed the file over to Mulder, though his gaze was directed mostly at Scully. Mulder flipped through the file briefly before handing it to Scully, who tucked it in her briefcase. He turned back to the man behind the counter. "Do you know anything about the disappearances, Officer Marston?" "The whole department is aware of the disappearances, Agent Mulder," the officer replied somberly. "We've all read the files and studied the investigations." He shrugged slightly and added, "I've lived here my whole life, remember one of them from when I was a kid...and when I joined the department, I even thought maybe I'd be the one to solve them." Both Scully and Mulder nodded their understanding, and then Mulder asked, "The last disappearance in April 1997 –- Suzanne Tyler -- were you involved with the investigation?" "Not the investigation itself, no," Marston replied. "But every officer in this department and the Sheriff's Office, not to mention hundreds of volunteers, searched for two solid days. A massive storm front moved in and hampered the search efforts, and by the time the weather improved, it was deemed likely the trail would be stone cold. The search was scaled back, lasting another two days but no trace of the woman was ever found." Mulder next queried, "With the obvious connections to Starbuck House, were the Carringtons ever considered to be suspects?" From years of experience, he had learned that sometimes it was too good to be true that the perpetrator was right before the investigator's very eyes, and sometimes it was just completely overlooked. "The Carringtons were fully investigated at the time of the disappearance in 1997, Agent Mulder," Marston replied, a little tightly. As if angered by the possible implication that the Police Department had not done its job. "There was never any evidence that linked them to any of the disappearances or the missing women, other than the fact that the women had stayed at Starbuck House." There was a moment of heavy silence, Marston perhaps waiting for further questions from Mulder, before the officer spoke again. "If you'll come this way?" Marston asked, and walked along to one far end of the counter to point out a gated entrance there. He opened it for them, his arm extended politely to show them in. Scully felt Mulder's hand on her back again, nudging her through the gate, and they followed Officer Marston through the bullpen and down the hallway Scully had surmised led to the holding cells. She couldn't help but notice the fine figure Marston cut in his uniform, and jerked her head up, away from the view of his backside. Hoping Mulder had not noticed her wandering attention, and very embarrassed to have been gawking. Part way down the surprisingly long hall, Officer Marston stopped before a closed door, with a metal doorplate that read FILE ROOM. He pulled a ring of keys from his belt loop and flicked through until he found the correct one, quickly unlocking the door. Pushing it open, he smiled ruefully. "It's not much, I'm afraid," he told them, again seeming to be speaking to Scully rather than the both of them. Stepping partially inside the stale and musty room, the officer then reached over on the wall to the left of the door. Apparently for the light switch, for a second later there was a muted click and the room became a little brighter. Mulder poked his head in and grimaced. Not much, indeed. The room was perhaps 10X12, windowless, and the wall-to- wall shelves were stacked floor to ceiling with storage boxes. There was an old wooden desk in the middle of the room, complete with one plain wooden chair. "I'll get you another chair," Marston said, and squeezed past Mulder, nearly bumping into Scully, who was also attempting to peek inside the room. "My apologies, Agent Scully," he murmured, and after she waved off his apology, headed back the way they had come. Mulder entered the room fully, eyes tracking the shelves slowly. "I think we've got our work cut out for us, Scully." "I'll say," she replied, also taking in the numerous boxes that lined each and every shelf. She moved closer to one of the shelves, leaning in to peer at a box. "At least these boxes seem to be well cross-referenced," she added, reading the detailed label affixed to the end side. "They're filed by case type, name and year. We can locate and pull all the missing persons cases." Shrugging out of his jacket, Mulder hung it on the back of the wooden chair, pulling it away from the old desk. The room was warm, and would probably only get warmer with the two of them there. "Hopefully that will save some time. We still need to go to the library." "Ahem." Both she and Mulder turned to look at the doorway, where the sound had come from. Officer Marston was there, holding a padded chair easily in both hands. "Here you go, Agent Scully," he said cheerfully, and with a bit of maneuvering, brought the chair into the room and over to the desk, putting it down opposite what was now apparently Mulder's chair. "Thank-you, Officer Marston," Scully replied. "No problem at all, Agent Scully," the officer said, smiling in a way that highlighted those perfect teeth. "It's Samuel, by the way, Agent Scully, and if you need anything all, I'm at your service." Mulder rolled his eyes, unseen by both Marston...*Samuel*... or Scully, and called out, "Appreciate it, Samuel." "Thank-you again, Samuel," Scully said, and once the officer had left the room, turned back to the desk, shrugging out of her blazer. She hung it neatly on the back of her chair and put her hands on her hips, once again surveying the shelves. "Where to start." "Wellll..." Mulder drawled half-teasingly. "You could always ask *Samuel* for help. He *is* at your service, Scully." Scully did not dignify his comment with a response, verbal or otherwise, though Mulder did hear a quiet huff that could have been humor or irritation. "Wonder what kind of service he meant, huh Scully?" he needled. This time she turned her head to look at his grinning countenance, feeling her eyebrow rising. "Do the names Nancy and Lisa ring any bells, Mulder?" she inquired, with just a hint of bite in her words. "Touché!" he drawled, and then held his hands up in surrender. "I give," he told her. "I won't tease you about Officer Romeo if you leave out the friendly Innkeeper and the schoolgirl." "Deal," she returned with a nod and a tiny smile, and got to work. Not quite three hours later, they had pulled the files on the three most recent disappearances, dating back to mid-1980, and the files of the other three women whom Mulder had researched via the Internet. Those cases dated back to the 1940's. They had also gone through every missing person's case dating as far back as 1900, after deciding that was a good cut-off period. Most had been rejected, but there had been a few that had definite similarities to the others. Of course, the much older case files were not as complete as those after the 1950's, they were mostly one page reports containing the victim's name, age and description, and very little information investigation-wise. Basically what had been seen or heard around the time of the disappearances, such as in one instance, a report from one of the victim's employers stating that the young woman had just not shown up one day. But two of those older cases had listed Starbuck House as the victim's lodging at the time of their disappearance. Scully slumped against the padded back of her chair with a weary sigh, gently turning her head from side to side, rotating her neck. She was achy, hot, tired and very hungry. "Mulderrrrr..." she started, and stopped, hating the whine in her voice. Clearing her throat, she spoke again, more firmly. "Mulder, it's time to break for lunch. We've been here for three hours, and I've forgotten what natural light looks like." Mulder lifted his head from the file he was reading, tilting it back to stare at the bare light bulb directly above their desk. Snorting, he straightened, flipped the file closed and said, "I hear ya, Scully. Though just barely, over the grumbling of my stomach." Lifting one hand, he began to rub the back of his neck. A frown crossed his face as he regarded the files still to be read, and Scully knew he was bemoaning the time necessary to finish going through them all. "Mulder," she said softly. "Let's go get something to eat and then visit the library. The files will still be here later, or tomorrow." "You're right, Scully," Mulder agreed, pushing his chair back with a noisy scrape. He stood, putting his hands on his hips and twisting slowly, feeling the muscles of his back and neck pop and stretch with his motions. Closing his portfolio, he tucked it under his arm and grabbed his jacket. Holding it with one hand while walking toward her, his other hand slid into place at the small of her back to lead her out the door. Officer Marston met them at the end of the hallway, just inside the bullpen. He wore a smile upon his face that Scully thought of as being friendly, while Mulder interpreted it to be a predatory one. "Um, Agent Scully, would you be interested in getting a bite to eat?" the officer asked. "Oh, and you too, of course, Agent Mulder." Scully felt Mulder's fingers press a little harder into her back, and she could just imagine him leaning in to croon some sarcastic comment about Officer Romeo into her ear. "Actual ly, Officer Marston, Agent Mulder and I already have lunch plans." She paused, smiling gently, and added, "We do appreciate the offer." Mulder inwardly smirked at the brief crestfallen expression on Marston's face when Scully expertly and politely shot him down. He had to give the officer bonus points though, for coming back so quickly, shrugging off the turndown with tact and diplomacy. "I certainly understand, Agent Scully," Marston said, a smile once again curving his lips and showing off his teeth. "Perhaps another time?" His eyes flicked from her to Mulder, and then he added, "I can recommend some great places to eat, if you'd like." "Appreciate it, Marston," Mulder interjected. "Not a problem," the officer said. "Call it my civic duty." *** End Part 6