Through the Looking Glass by Lovesfox Headers in Prologue Part 14 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Diary of Liza MacGregor February 10, 1907 A young chambermaid by the name of Molly Flynn has disappeared from Starbuck House. Marie Rose is rightfully distraught, but I gleefully suspect she is the cause. That she has at long last heeded my words and fed the mirror. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Nantucket Pharmacy South Water St. Sunday, May 22, 2000 12:05 PM After parking the car in a public lot around the corner from the Nantucket Pharmacy, Mulder and Scully hurried along the sidewalk, hoods up and heads ducked. The rain had begun in earnest as they were driving into town, and currently showed no signs of letting up. As it had been the day before, the little restaurant was quite busy, clearly a popular spot in town. There were no empty booths, and though there were two vacant seats at the counter, they were at opposite ends. Fortunately an elderly couple rose from one of the booths then, apparently in the process of clearing out, and relieved, Mulder nudged Scully in that direction. In just moments they were seated facing each other, both removing their sodden jackets and laying them to one side. Blowing on her chilled fingers, Scully nodded gratefully and murmured, "Yes, thank-you," when the young waitress chirpingly asked if they would like coffee. Her partner's nod of acceptance was somewhat absent, for his attention seemed to be focused on scanning the diner. Mulder had spotted Joe, the old man they had met the day before, as he and Scully made their way to their booth. The hopefully talkative soul was seated three booths away with an equally weathered and ancient-appearing man, and two women, one of whom had a head of shockingly white hair, while her companion's was an interesting shade of pale blue. Joe did not appear to have noticed their entrance, and was heartily digging into what looked like a bowl of chowder. Mulder hoped to catch the other man's eye after lunch and see if he was amenable to chatting with them again about the Carringtons and Starbuck House. The waitress returned with a pot of steaming coffee in one hand and two mugs held by their handles in the other, along with two menus tucked under her arm. She wore a green apron, but had no cap or nametag, and after laying down the mugs and presenting them with the menus, introduced herself as Allison. "Specials today are clam chowder with a side salad or turkey club with coleslaw," she recited while filling the coffee mugs. "Should I give you a minute to decide?" Mulder looked at Scully, and knew she had already made her choice. "We'll order now, thank-you, Allison." "I'll have turkey club on whole wheat, please, with the mayo on the side," Scully ordered, smiling at the waitress and returning the laminated menu. She did not eat coleslaw, but Mulder loved it, and would happily eat both side orders. "Make that two turkey clubs, but I'll have mine on rye," Mulder said with a friendly smile of his own, and also handed Allison his menu. Allison tucked the two menus under her arm again and said, "It shouldn't be long." With a parting smile, she departed, and Mulder watched her go behind the counter and call their order out to the cook. Turning back to face his partner once more, he was in time to catch her hiding a rather large yawn. Despite his earlier resolve not to push the subject, he allowed his concern to show. "You sleeping okay, Scully?" he asked quietly. Scully's cheeks pinkened, and she ducked her head. Her fingers fiddled with an empty creamer. Clearing her throat, she murmured, "Not as well as usual, no." Lifting her chin and meeting his gaze, she added, "I had some rather strange dreams last night." Her embarrassment and discomfort were clear, so he decided to lighten things. Affecting a leer, he intoned, "Oooh, Scully. Was I in any of them?" A smile played briefly about her lips but her expression remained somber. Though she kept her tone light when she remarked, "I can't remember a single one of them." "That memorable, huh?" he quipped, though her lightness did not fool him. He paused, and then serious once again, asked, "Is it this case, Scully?" He had wondered if perhaps the nature of the case –- disappearing women –- might not be affecting her, perhaps stirring up memories of her own abduction, but he had not wanted to bring the matter up with her. Maybe he should have. "Are you...could you be having flashbacks or memories of your own disappearance?" Scully blinked, startled by Mulder's question. She hadn't once thought about that time in her life while here in Nantucket, had not had a single flashback or memory. Nor did she think her dreams had been centered on her abduction –- having suffered from many for months after her return, she was well acquainted with the feelings those nightmares dredged up, and was not experiencing them now. Yet she had no explanation for her change in sleep patterns, or for her strange dreams. It certainly wasn't due to the change in their surroundings, sometimes it seemed as if she and Mulder were on the road more than they were at home, and the food certainly wasn't exotic. The only thing new in her diet was Essie's homemade tea. Perhaps one of the ingredients was not agreeing with her. She again made a mental note to ask for the recipe. "No, Mulder," she finally replied, shaking her head. "I don't think so. These dreams are different." Fiddling with the creamer packet once more, she finished, "If I thought I was adversely affecting this case, I would remove myself from the investigation, you know that." Her partner nodded solemnly. "I know, Scully. But I don’t think that's necessary." He reached out and touched the back of her hand with his index finger, lingered briefly before retreating to cradle his coffee mug again. "Besides, who'd keep me out of trouble if you went home?" he joked. The return of their waitress forestalled any comment Scully might have made, though Mulder did see her hide the amused quirk of her lips behind one hand. "Here you are," Allison said cheerily. Small dishes of coleslaw were placed before them, followed by two plates with their turkey club sandwiches. A little ceramic shot-glass sized container of mayonnaise was then placed next to Scully's plate. "Can I get you a refill of coffee or anything else?" the waitress asked. A quick glance at Scully, and Mulder replied, "We're good, thanks." Allison departed, and the next several minutes were devoted to eating, both agents realizing they had worked up quite an appetite after their aborted hike through the woods. It was after the waitress had refilled their coffees and cleared away the dirty dishes that Joe meandered over to their table, his blue-haired, and rather tall and robust female companion in tow. Stopping directly in front of the booth, Joe said a good afternoon and then rambled out, "Betty, this here is the young writer fellow I was telling you about, and his lady friend." Mulder started to rise, intending to invite the couple to join Scully and him, when Betty seated herself beside him with an exuberant motion that jostled his body back onto the padded bench. He hid his 'oof' of surprise with a cough, catching a glimpse of his partner hiding yet another smile, having clearly seen the incident. Joe had quietly slid into the booth next to Scully, and was silently observing, his rheumy eyes intelligent and slightly amused. Mulder's own eyes could not help but be drawn to Betty's elaborate bouffant hair, reminiscent of his grandmother's own style. It was certainly an attention-getter, and hard to miss. "Betty Marchmont," Joe's friend announced, thrusting out a ring-bedecked hand with outrageously painted, long red nails for Mulder to shake. Her gaze darted from him to Scully, her expression contemplative and curious. "Friends, hmmm?" Then just as quickly she changed the subject. "I hear you're writing a book about the Carringtons." Her gaze was now intent and nosy. "Mulder," he replied, shaking her hand gingerly. "And this is my *assistant*, Dana Scully," he added as he gestured towards Scully, stressing the word assistant. His partner smiled gamely, her eyes wide as she took in the table's new occupant, and received a waggle of Betty's fingers in greeting. "For the record though," Mulder clarified, "my book isn't about the Carringtons, it's about haunted houses." "Hmmmm," Betty sniffed. "Then you should include Starbuck House. I've maintained that place is haunted for years, you know." Joe nodded sagely, but held his tongue. Mulder suspected it was because the man knew better than to interrupt Betty. Betty continued on, clearly thrilled to have an audience, captive or otherwise. "My granny on my mother's side grew up with Esther Dunford, and Granny always said that Essie was strange. Quiet, always watching people. Guess it came from her mother taking her own life when Essie was just a young girl." Scully startled slightly, the motion noticed only by her partner, who arched an eyebrow in silent enquiry. She shook her head infinitesimally; she'd fill him in later. Another such death in the family was something to take note of, Annabelle Carrington's suicide still fresh in her mind. She also wondered at Betty's age, having assumed the woman was in her sixties. Yet she had said her grandmother had grown up with Essie. Perhaps Essie was older than Scully had believed. It was another matter to verify. "Personally, I think that whole family is cursed," Betty said with an emphatic nod. "Haven't I always said that, Joe?" Joe nodded. "Aye-up, you have." "What makes you say that, Betty?" Mulder interrupted before the woman could go off on another tangent. She appeared to be running on a full head of steam, eager to impart all her worldly knowledge. "Well, what with all those disappearances," Betty replied loftily. "Surely you can agree that they can’t all be coincidence." Mulder nodded. He'd been thinking along those lines himself. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Diary of Liza MacGregor June 6, 1907 Marie Rose has taken her own life. Only days before she had come to see me, hurling accusations and insults, and railing about the guilt that consumed her over the death of the chambermaid. I am pleased. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Nantucket Pharmacy 12:50 PM Scully grimaced inwardly at the older woman's comment about the disappearances not being coincidence, and her partner's obvious agreement. It appeared that Mulder had found a kindred, albeit colorful, spirit in one Betty Marchmont. While Scully certainly would agree there were undeniable questions and possible links, she was not yet ready to draw any conclusions that the disappearances were all related, or the work of the Carringtons. Or that they were the result of a curse on the family, for that matter. Their investigation was still in its infancy really, with much remaining. She hoped that their interview with Dave Collingsworth, the retired Nantucket police officer, would shed further light on the case, and perhaps lead them in a new direction or directions. Mulder would label her hesitancy as skepticism, she knew, but with her background and training rooted in science, she would always look for the answers there first. Even considering everything she had seen and experienced in her years with the X-Files and with Mulder, she still could not just *believe* on faith alone. Could not look at the fantastical or the paranormal before exhausting logic and science. Though she did think even Mulder would admit she was now more open to extreme possibilities –- as he would put it. Betty spoke again, pulling Scully from her thoughts. The older woman's features were extremely animated, her manicured hands gesticulating wildly, nearly clipping Mulder in the ear. Mulder smiled gamely as his booth-partner's movements bounced him slightly, and then flicked a glance at his partner after his narrow miss with Betty's lethal fingernails. That one glance was enough to tell him that Scully was not yet ready to believe that the disappearances could be attributed to something less ordinary or explainable, such as your average, run-of-the-mill serial killer. Mentally he rubbed his hands together. He was looking forward to the continuance of their case, and to finding out if there was something to what Betty had been telling them. "Tragedy just follows that family like a dark cloud," Betty remarked knowingly then. "Nancy and John's father taking off when they were just wee babies, never to be seen again, and then their mother..." Her voice trailed off as she shook her head sadly, making a tsk-ing sound in her throat. "Always a sickly girl, Annabelle eventually ended her own life, just like her grandmother." She tsked again. "Essie herself had many health problems, I remember my Granny saying." Scully was tempted to make a comment about genetics, but held her tongue. Her smiling partner did not. "Betty," Mulder began, shifting a little on the bench. Doing so enabled him to catch sight of the wall clock, and he saw that it was nearing one o'clock. Realizing that they needed to get going, he changed gears. Instead of asking the older woman to expand on her comment about the Carringtons being under a curse, he said, "You've certainly provided us with some interesting information. It looks like I should indeed be devoting a chapter or two to Starbuck House." As his words had Betty preening, her rouged cheeks further pinkened, he added, "We really appreciate you taking the time to talk to us, and wish we could stay longer, but we've got another appointment to get to." She patted his hand, beaming. "It was my pleasure," was her satisfied and somewhat grandiose reply. "Perhaps we'll get another chance if you're staying in town?" Mulder nodded; rather disappointed they couldn't talk more with Betty, finding he was somewhat fond of her. "We'll certainly keep your offer in mind, Betty." He offered her his hand, and managed not to wince when she squeezed it tightly between both of hers before giving it an energetic pumping. "Thanks again." Rising to join the already patiently standing Joe, Betty beamed and waggled her fingers at Scully again. "You're very welcome, dearies. Too-da-loo!" With that, the vivacious woman took Joe's arm, giving the illusion that he was escorting her away. Her next comment to the grizzled man faded off as they left earshot, "You'll never believe what I heard yesterday about..." Scully shook her head slightly as she watched the older couple depart, knowing her expression had to be one of bemusement. Betty was certainly an interesting character and clearly the gossip maven of the Pharmacy, maybe even the town. Now as to whether her gossipy information would have any bearing on the case remained to be seen. Their bill was settled in no time, Scully taking care of the expense and leaving a decent tip behind for their waitress. Shrugging into their coats, they headed through the Pharmacy, where they paused at the door to ascertain the weather conditions. The outside world was grey and misty, but fortunately not under the deluge of an hour ago. Still, further rain remained a threat as they heard thunder rumbling in the distance, and they walked hurriedly to the car. Climbing into the rental sedan, Mulder retrieved the paper Marston had provided him with yesterday from his inner coat pocket and perused its details. Along with Dave Collingsworth's address and written directions to the man's residence, the friendly officer had also sketched a quick map. Handing it to Scully, he buckled up and started the car, reversing out of his parking space in the surprisingly crowded lot with care. Once they were headed toward their next destination, he shot a quick glance at his partner, who was reading over the directions. "So, what did you think of our talkative source?" "Talkative is one way of putting it," she replied, tempering the sarcasm in her tone. She met his gaze briefly, an indulgent and playful smile just barely curving her lips. "Flamboyant and prone to exaggeration come to mind, as does nosy." "I liked her." Scully chuckled at the tone of his voice –- slightly defensive and peevish. "I could tell." Reaching over, she patted his knee briefly. "She fascinated me too, Mulder." Mollified, Mulder flashed her a smile before sobering and remarking, "I noticed your reaction when Betty told us Essie's mother had committed suicide." She heard his unspoken question, and nodded, gathering her thoughts and composing her response. "The issue of whether suicide is hereditary, or the result of a gene mutation that predisposes it, has been bandied about for years, but has never been successfully proven," she began slowly. "Hearing that Essie's mother had killed herself as did Essie's daughter, reminded me of that research." Mulder nodded, considering her words. He too had followed the debate on the issue of genetics and suicide. "While there doesn't seem to be a definitive or clear-cut decision in general, in this instance, it seems to me that there's more at play for it to have occurred in the same family. On top of that, there's also the matter of both women's poor health that Betty mentioned." That point had also stuck in her mind. "Is this the part where you bring up the curse?" she asked humorously. The look he shot her was clearly amused, and perhaps a touch wry, though he declined to comment. Scully smiled to herself, and then brought up the other point she had been considering. "Something else Betty mentioned had me wondering," she said aloud. At Mulder's querying 'hmmm', she continued, "She said that her grandmother had grown up with Essie, which made me curious as to Essie's age. I had thought she was in her late eighties, but I might have to revise that guess." Slowing the car as he checked house numbers, for they were now driving along Dave Collingsworth's street, Mulder commented in response, "Something to check on later." Consulting Marston's map again after checking the number on the house they had just passed, Scully helpfully noted, "His house should be on our left." "Right there," Mulder replied with a tip of his chin, and pulled the car to the curbside to park. *** End Part 14