Through the Looking Glass by Lovesfox Headers in Prologue Part 11 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Diary of Liza MacGregor August 18, 1890 I was an honored guest at Marie Rose's wedding, skillfully hiding my derision over the shameful display of John's wealth. The reception was lavish, and pretentious, as were its other guests, who once again regard me with pity. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Scully's Room 10:50 PM Finally managing to get the key in the lock and turn it, Scully pushed her door open and stepped inside, intermittent shivers wracking her body. After closing the door and locking it once more, she moved to the bureau, putting the key down on the smooth wood surface. Shrugging gingerly out of her wet jacket, she slipped it onto a hanger and hung it from the doorknob. The laces of her boots were wet and stiff, one of the knots at first unyielding, but she got them off with only a modicum of grunting and frustrated tugging. With a grimace of distaste at their wet and muddy condition, she found a plastic bag in her suitcase to set them upon, placing them near the heat register. She next retrieved the white nightgown from Essie, her robe, and a fresh pair of panties. That done, she moved into the bathroom, putting the small pile of nightclothes on the sink counter. Looking at the other bathroom door, she noted that Mulder must have shut it. A momentary hesitation, and then she turned the lock to avoid any repeats of earlier that evening, her cheeks pinking in embarrassment at her gaffe. And at the memory of Mulder's fine, fit nude body. Shaking the thought out of her head, as pleasant as it was, Scully started up the shower, with the hot water on full force, before slowly disrobing, leaving her clothes in a small pile to pick up once finished. The enclosure was hot and steamy by the time she climbed in, just what the doctor had ordered. She had to fight not to groan loudly in relief, contenting herself with a gusty sigh as she was enveloped by heat and her shivering finally stopped. Because she would be showering again in the morning, and she was too tired to blow-dry her hair after, she merely washed her body once she had warmed up sufficiently. Turning off the taps, she opened the shower stall door and grabbed the large towel hanging on the rack. She dried off quickly, while still in the stall, and then exited to don the nightgown and panties. After brushing her teeth and smoothing cream on her face, arms and legs, she snuggled into her robe, tying the sash tightly. Tapping on Mulder's door, she waited until she heard his distracted- sounding voice saying 'yeah' before telling him she was finished in the bathroom, receiving a faint acknowledgment in return. Turning, Scully gathered her damp, discarded clothes and left the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind her. Once the clothes were in her laundry bag, she got her notes from the day and pulled back the covers of her bed to snuggle in while reading them. She found the room to be a little on the cold side after her hot shower, and shivered slightly when her bare feet encountered the coolness of the crisp bed linen. Just as she got settled, she heard the shower start up in the bathroom. A moment later there was a knock at her room door. Pushing the covers aside, she crossed the floor and unlocked the door, opening it to find Essie in her wheelchair, a steaming cup of tea sitting on a tray that rested on her lap. "Good evening, Dana," the old woman said, a kind smile on her face. "I thought you might like a cup of my tea before bed." Odd that Essie had just shown up with the tea, but regardless, it was very welcomed. The personal touches were often what made establishments like Starbuck House so successful. Perhaps being family-run made all the difference. "Oh, that would be wonderful," Scully replied gratefully, her own lips curving in a smile. Hot tea would certainly help in chasing away her lingering chill. Reaching out, she carefully took the hot mug from Essie, cradling it with equal caution. As it had the night before, the wonderful aroma drifted to her nose, causing her to inhale deeply. "Mmmm," she couldn't help saying, her eyes closing briefly. Meeting the woman's gaze once more, she murmured, "Thank-you very much, Essie." "You're welcome, Dana dear. Good night, then." Essie smiled and then began the laborious-appearing process of turning her chair around. Remembering that she had mentioned speaking to Essie about the disappearances while at dinner with Mulder, Scully cleared her throat and said, "Essie? Do you have a moment?" The old woman paused in mid-pivot and lifted her head to look at Scully, an expression of curiosity on her face. "Certainly, dear. Was there something you needed?" Leaning against the doorjamb, Scully replied, "Just a question or two, if you don't mind?" When Essie's hand waved in assent, Scully continued, "In our research for Mulder's book, we came across an article about missing women here in Nantucket, and naturally with our experiences in house hauntings, we became intrigued. I was wondering if there was anything you could tell me about the disappearances." Essie tensed, her curiosity sliding away to be replaced by a brittle blankness. At the same time, a look of perhaps anger or apprehension flashed in the old woman's dark eyes, but one so brief Scully could not be certain she hadn't imagined it. Imagination or not, it had felt somewhat sinister, and left Scully cold. Her fingers tightened around the crockery in her hand in reaction. Taking a slow breath, she raised the mug to her mouth, letting the steam drift over her face before taking a sip of the tea. Essie blinked rapidly, again appearing as harmless as the friendly old woman she was, and Scully's feeling of unease passed. Though a remnant lingered faintly. "Terrible tragedies they were," Essie murmured sorrowfully, shaking her head and making a 'tsking' sound. "Terrible." Her lament appeared genuine, Scully thought, and she hesitated before saying softly, "It must have been difficult, with some of the women staying here at Starbuck House when they went missing." "Oh, my yes," Essie agreed, deep lines of sadness bracketing her mouth. "It was difficult. We felt so helpless, of no assistance at all to the police. We saw nothing and heard nothing." She shook her head again, her eyes vague and unfocused as she stared down the empty hallway towards the door that led to the family quarters, apparently lost in the past. Scully held herself silent, waiting to see if Essie was going to say anything further, taking another sip of her tea. The lines around Essie's mouth became deep grooves when she frowned, her head turning in order to meet Scully's gaze again. "We were investigated, you know," she remarked a moment later, her voice both sad and outraged. "The police asked John and Nancy so many questions, and our neighbors and employees as well." She shook her head, and repeated, "A terrible, difficult time." "I understand," Scully said with commiseration. "I'm sorry to have brought the subject up." She wondered if the investigation or the disappearances themselves had affected the Inn's business, and made a mental note to herself to try and find out the next day, deciding not to query Essie on the matter. "It's all right, dear, I understand," Essie replied. "It's not the first time someone has asked me about those missing women, and I doubt it'll be the last." Scully assumed the smile that followed was to soothe the slight sting of her words. "Goodnight, Dana." With that, Essie backed her wheelchair up and turned around, heading down the hallway to the door marked 'Private'. Scully watched the old woman maneuver through the door and close it behind her, before turning and re-entering her own room, once again locking the door. Settling back under the covers and leaning against the pillow she placed against the headboard, she slowly sipped her tea, mulling over the reaction she might have seen on Essie's face. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Diary of Liza MacGregor January 18, 1895 John has passed away in a riding accident. Marie Rose is devastated, turning to me for comfort. Andrew and Marie Rose plan to move into her father's home, Starbuck House, left to her in his will. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Starbuck House Sunday May 22, 2000 7:30 AM Mulder whistled softly through his teeth as he quickly descended the stairs, boots thudding dully on each riser, thoughts of a hot cup of coffee on his mind. Currently carrying his Gore-tex jacket in one hand, he was also wearing a bulky sweatshirt in order to hide the bulge of the holster at his hip. He felt fresh and alert –- his morning run, despite the light, misty rain that had been and was currently still falling, had energized him. So had the shower that followed. Nancy was in the dining area when he came in, staring out one of the windows at the rain, lifting a mug to her lips. She turned then, having either spied his reflection in the glass or heard him enter the room, and after putting the mug down, made her way towards the table he had sat himself at. On her way, she picked up a newspaper from another table, holding it out to him when she reached his side. "Good morning, Mulder. I know you'll want a cup of coffee, but can I interest you in some homemade muffins? I've got blueberry or cranberry." "Good morning, Nancy," he returned, accepting the proffered paper with a nod of appreciation. He had planned to wait for Scully to rise, so they could breakfast together, but his stomach rumbled at the mention of muffins, making the decision for him. "Coffee and two blueberry muffins, please." "Coming right up," was her chipper response, and she bustled away. He had barely scanned the headlines when the smiling hostess was back with his coffee and muffins. When it seemed she was inclined to linger after he voiced a quiet thank-you, he seized the opportunity to query her about the house. It could be their chance to get into the attic and take a look around. Though what he was expecting to see or find, he couldn't say. "Working on this book has been rewarding in many ways," Mulder began conversationally. "The travel, in particular. But it has also afforded Dana and me an opportunity to see and experience some truly spectacular architecture, to visit extraordinarily beautiful homes and mansions." He paused; pleased he had not stumbled at using Scully's given name, and then added with a hopefully charming grin, "We're both quite taken with Starbuck House, you know. It's so well-kept and beautifully decorated." Nancy initially seemed to hold back, but his innate ability to charm shone through, and she gradually relaxed, even taking the chair next to him as they talked. Yet beneath this openness there remained a sense of reserve, as if her gaiety was perhaps forced, or was an act. Her blush was winsome and sweet following his compliment about the Inn, the gesture surprisingly girlish, as was the way she looked away briefly before meeting his gaze once more. Mulder could not tell if Nancy was being flirtatious or if her behavior denoted a lack of experience despite her maturity. Or perhaps it was both. He recalled suddenly Scully's comment the day before about Nancy being attracted to him, and how he had brushed it off, how he had even hoped there might have been a hint of jealousy in Scully's voice. Realizing then how astute his partner had been in her observations, he was discomfited. "I must admit I did have a hand in much of the decorating," Nancy revealed a bit shyly then, with a hint of pride. "I've been told I have a flair for it." Her voice pulled him from his thoughts, and Mulder smiled and nodded, toasting her with his coffee mug. "It shows," he told her, and received another blush and a beaming smile in return. "As I mentioned, both Dana and I have been admiring the house, and the grounds as well." Though he ducked his head down to take a sip of his coffee, he was still able to see Nancy peripherally, and watched a frown flash across her features. Putting the mug down, he broke off a piece of his muffin and brought it to his mouth, waiting the woman out. Nancy cleared her throat and then asked in a higher-pitched voice, one that highlighted her discomfort, "So how long have you and Miss Scully been working together?" As he and Scully had discussed for their cover story, Mulder replied, "Not quite two years." Grinning inwardly, he embellished with zeal, wishing Scully were there to hear his explanation. "We met at a lecture on paranormal activities and while talking afterwards, we discovered we shared many interests. One of which was of course the myth or truth behind haunted houses. I'd been toying with the idea of writing a book, and asked her if she would be interested in assisting with the research. She accepted, and here we are." Before Nancy could respond, Mulder's attention was caught by the arrival of his partner, slowly crossing the dining room towards them. "And coincidentally enough, here is Dana," he remarked jovially, hiding the sense of relief he felt at seeing Scully –- charming Nancy wasn't as easy as it seemed. His eyes scanned his partner quickly, and he noted that she was as casually dressed as he, and that she seemed tired, a little worn. Like him, she carried her Gore-tex jacket, and wore clothing and boots suitable for hiking in the woods. Nancy's head had turned at his words, and now she stood hastily, hands smoothing down her half-apron, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "Good morning, Miss Scully," she said in that same high voice. "Can I get you some coffee to start?" Her manner and bearing were now stilted. Scully's gaze flicked from Nancy to Mulder and back again –- she could feel the tension radiating from the other woman, and knew that she was the cause of it. With a stiff-lipped smile, she hung her jacket on the back of the chair directly opposite Mulder before sitting down, and murmured, "Coffee would be lovely, thank-you, Nancy." More than lovely, she needed the jolt of caffeine. Once again she had struggled to arise no more than forty minutes ago, having somehow slept through her travel alarm clock. She had also been disoriented upon awakening –- for a frightening moment, she had not known where she was. It was rather disturbing, but she was uncomfortable bringing the subject up with Mulder. After the Innkeeper had gone through the swinging doors, Scully leaned forward slightly and peered at Mulder with one raised eyebrow. "Did I interrupt something?" Her right hand snaked across the table and stole a piece of muffin from his plate to sample. Mulder shot her a droll look and low-voiced, "Nothing like you're intimating, Scully. I was trying to sweet-talk the good Innkeeper into letting us check out the house from top to bottom." There was innuendo in there somewhere, but Scully wasn't touching it. "She certainly looked comfortable," she remarked instead with a teasing smile and a flicking glance at the chair Nancy had vacated. She stole another bit of his muffin and popped it in her mouth after asking, "So, do you think your sweet-talking worked?" "Guess we'll find out," he opined, having caught the sound of the swinging doors swishing open, announcing Nancy's return. He waited until she had placed Scully's mug down and filled it up from the steaming coffee pot the Innkeeper had brought with her, and topped up his own before asking, "Nancy, do you think Dana and I might be able to take a look at the entire house after breakfast?" Nancy did not hesitate. "Certainly. I can offer myself as a tour guide after you eat, if you'd like." "Actually, we'd like to poke around ourselves, if that's not a problem," Mulder responded neutrally, not wanting to cause her to renege her permission. For besides the fact that he wanted Scully with him, the invitation had seemed a little too one- sided. "Not a problem at all, Mulder," Nancy said lightly, though her smile dimmed a little. "So, have you two decided on your order?" She shifted slightly to include Scully in her query, the smile now leaving her face completely. Scully smiled as pleasantly as she was able and said, "This muffin is delicious, Nancy. If there are more, I'd love one heated, please." Nancy nodded and looked to Mulder, her manner lightening noticeably. "Let me guess," she said, her tone familiar and gently teasing. "You'd like the same as yesterday?" "You've talked me into it," he replied with a grin. Both he and Scully watched Nancy leave the room before they began conversing. "Well, it worked," he said, referring to his sweet-talking. "Indeed," Scully replied, one eyebrow arching minutely. There were several things she could say next, but she chose not to. It would seem petty. Instead, she asked, "What exactly do you hope to find, Mulder?" "A clue?" he said mock-hopefully, wringing a chuff of amusement from his somber partner. He grinned back at her, pleased to have made her laugh. Sobering, he then said, "I don't know exactly, Scully, but since this house is a common element in at least three of the more recent disappearances, it seems like a good place to start, with the woods out back being next. In my gut, I know that was John Carrington last night, out there in the dark and the cold rain. He was out there for a reason, and we need to find out why." Scully nodded, and they fell into a companionable silence. Mulder finished the remainder of his muffin while Scully sipped at her coffee, in between stifling yawns. Their frequency gave him pause, as did the faint circles under her eyes, and he quirked an eyebrow at her in question, but she waved him off with a murmured, "Just a little tired." He acquiesced, albeit reluctantly, and let the matter drop. Before long, Nancy reappeared, bearing a serving tray with their breakfast. She served them with the quick efficiency patrons appreciated, and left after a quiet, "Enjoy your meal." By unspoken agreement, they did not dawdle. Both politely refused a refill of coffee when Nancy came back with the pot, and Mulder asked her where they could start touring the house. "Let me get my tray and clear these dishes, and then I'll take you to the back stairs. You might as well start at the bottom, in our wine cellar," the Innkeeper replied, and hustled off. Nancy was back in moments with tray in hand, and quickly cleared and cleaned their table. Hefting the load of dishes, she smiled at Mulder and said, "If you'll follow me?" Mulder and Scully stood simultaneously, and each retrieved their jacket and shrugged the garments on. Gesturing Scully ahead of him, he rested his fingertips lightly on her mid- back as they started after the Innkeeper, who had already stepped through the swinging doors. *** End Part 11