Title: The Blue Ridge Haunting Blues
Author: Ned `TG' Life
Category: X-File
Rating: G
Spoilers: None
Archive: Wherever
Feedback: Whatever
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to Chris Carter's 1013 Productions and Rupert Murdoch's 20th Century Film Corp.

Summary: A Halloween Story


Mulder glanced over several times at the woman seated beside him in the car. He had never worked with her before but had heard good things about her. A toughened veteran of the FBI, she had proven herself under fire. Her partner had recently retired and she was awaiting reassignment with a new partner.

Mulder then thought about his own partner.

Scully was on leave. She had told him that she needed some time to reassess her life. What she had meant was that she needed some time to think about whether she wanted to spend the rest of her life chasing phantoms with Mulder. Any thought of a normal life, i.e., successful career, loving husband, 2.5 children, was not very likely with Mulder. And he knew it. Which was why he hadn't been able to ask her to stay. Even if she did come back, Mulder didn't know what kind of promises he could give her. And that was the hell of it.

Marie glanced over several times at the man seated beside her in the car. She had never worked with him before but had heard good things about him. And.....other things. A toughened veteran of the FBI, he had proven himself under fire. His partner was currently on leave and he was temporarily assigned with Marie. She wondered about this "leave." Marie was not the only FBI agent who was curious about the true nature of the relationship between him and his partner. In fact, it had been the main topic of conversation in the cafeteria at the FBI building during many lunch breaks. And now she was on leave. Marie thought about the "other" things she had heard about him. The traumatic childhood, the missing sister, the psychological (if not physical) abuse by his father. The occasional shifts of his psyche into another dimension in an attempt to survive the travail of this one. Marie was starting to have second thoughts about her earlier idea of pursuing a personal relationship with him. His reputation was not that of a normal person. And then she was reminded of her ex-husband. He had seemed normal. He had a reputation as a normal person. Perhaps she would pursue a relationship with Mulder after all.

"You seem deep in thought," ventured Marie.

"What? Oh, just listening to the radio," replied Mulder.

"Skinner warned me that you might not be in the best of moods after having your vacation canceled," said Marie.

Disappointed more closely described it, thought Mulder. Several months ago while on assignment with Scully, Mulder had taken some personal time to visit a UFO discussion group that was meeting near where Scully and he had been working. The meeting had been the only worthwhile aspect of the whole miserable trip. A few weeks after having attended the meeting, an invitation had come asking Mulder to be the guest speaker at the group's 20th anniversary. Mulder had been more than happy to accept the honor from such a dedicated and devoted group of people. But then, at the last minute, he had to cancel. Skinner had been adamant that Mulder handle this kidnap/murder case. So now Mulder was on his way to a small town tucked away in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia.

"I'll try not to be too much of a bear," said Mulder. Having moments earlier mentioned the radio, the twangy voice that was emitting from therein filtered through to Mulder's ears. "They call me freee-ee-ee..but I call me a fool." Impatiently, Mulder punched off the radio.

"Don't like Country music, huh?" asked Marie.

Embarrassed, Mulder had no intention of giving his temporary partner any insight into his reasons for abruptly terminating the music. "No, I don't," he lied.

"Well, you're either going to have to get use to it or not listen to the radio while we're here," warned Marie. "Up here in the mountains, that's about all you're going to find."

Mulder shrugged. "I'll live."

Mulder swung the car into the Sheriff Department's parking lot. The building before them was a small, one-story, brick affair. Upon entering the building, the agents were immediately greeted by a tall, tanned man who identified himself as Sheriff Boscoe. He ushered them into his sparsely furnished office and offered them a seat.

Although she would have preferred to stand after the lengthy drive from D.C., Marie, nevertheless eased herself into the proffered chair and then watched with admiring eyes as the sheriff sveltely rounded his desk and sensually lowered himself into his chair. That was impressive, thought Marie. Not many men could make the simple act of being seated such an astute study of motion. He probably had been the star quarterback when he was in high school. He had to have been a star athlete in some sport to learn moves like that. Marie had obviously been divorced too long.

The sheriff placed his hands on his desk and surveyed the agents. "I don't know what information you received about this case," he began, "So I'll just start from the beginning and take the chance that I'm covering ground that you already know." Mulder didn't object as this would be an opportunity to affirm that the information he had been given was accurate. "The name of the victim is Joan Bowen. Her body was found late yesterday in a cabin some little distance from here. My deputy, Lester, found the body. He'd gone to the cabin to check to see if she was there. She lived with her parents in West Virginia just across the border and her father came into the office here yesterday afternoon asking about her. Seems one of our local boys had been dating her and when she went missing, her father suspected this boy, Joey Jerritt, of having run off with her. Mr. Bowen is still in town if you want to talk to him later." The sheriff paused and held up his hand in a silent plea of indulgence. With his other hand, he lifted the cup of coffee that was on his desk.

Taking a sip from the cup, the sheriff then replaced the cup onto its brown plastic coaster and resumed his narrative. "Now, when I say boy, Joey is of legal age. The cabin where the body was found belongs to him; he's been living there for the last maybe three years. Ordinarily, a situation like this wouldn't have been the sort of thing this office would have looked into, but it seems Miss Bowen was just fourteen. So, Joey was looking at a kidnapping charge even if the girl said she went along willingly. And, of course, the kidnapping is what got the FBI involved." The sheriff once again held up his hand in the silent plea and drained the cup. He immediately grimaced. "I've got to quit taking that last sip," commented the sheriff. "That's nasty stuff." Looking apologetically at Mulder and Marie, the sheriff said, "I'm sorry, I never offered you anything to drink. Would you like a coffee or a soda?"

Mulder declined, but Marie accepted a soda. The sheriff pushed the button on his intercom and asked the clerk in the outer room if she would do the honors. "Anyway, Lester went up to the cabin, found the door open and could see the girl lying on the floor. She had been beaten pretty badly. I don't have the report back from the lab yet, so I can't tell you what actually killed her or any of the other details of her death, but I can tell you first hand that somebody pretty vicious did this." The sheriff paused at this point, shaking his head and staring at the top of his desk as though the answer to such brutality might be buried among the sheaves of paper scattered there.

"And was Joey present at the cabin when your deputy arrived?" asked Mulder, in an attempt to regain the sheriff's attention.

The sheriff smiled briefly at his own ruminating and replied, "He didn't appear right off to be there. He showed up about the time that I arrived. Joey claimed to have been out hunting their supper, and he did have his rifle with him although he didn't have any game. We have no way of knowing if he was out hunting or just hiding nearby in the woods, watching what all was going on. By the way, he's being held in one of our cells right now."

Marie set her drink on the edge of the desk, leaned back in her chair and asked. "I assume he is claiming no involvement in her death, Sheriff?" The sheriff graced her with a smile and replied that she was correct. Continuing to query the sheriff, Marie asked, "Does he have any suggestions as to who might have killed the girl?"

The sheriff `s face took on an expression of slight discomfort and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand before answering. "Yeah, he says Wendall did it."

Mulder raised an eyebrow and asked, "And who is Wendall?"

The sheriff's face retained the expression of discomfort as he replied, "In order to explain who Wendall is, I need to tell you the story of one of our local superstitions."

Marie rolled her eyes, but Mulder's lit up.

"About fifty years ago, to this week as a matter of fact, Wendall went trick-or-treating with some friends. They were Junior High kids who were too old for such foolishness but it seems Wendall was always on the lookout for an excuse to raise some hell. Most of the folks around here always handed out the candy made here locally. You may have noticed the Alcott Candy Factory on your way into town? Well, one family new to the area was handing out something different, M&M's or some such thing.

"Anyway, Wendall went nuts. Of course, he was never too stable to begin with. But, he went nuts and attacked the lady who was handing out the treats, then attacked her husband when he came to her aid and then went after their two little kids who were cowering in the corner of the room by that time. From what I hear, it was a real blood bath.

"The boys he was with went running to the sheriff's office. They tracked him as far as the river and even found his treat bag on the bank. Now that river isn't the place to go swimming. The undercurrents are deadly. But to this day they've not found him or his body." The sheriff paused, again looking at his desk as though it might give up the secret to the boy's whereabouts.

"And Joey is claiming that Wendall is responsible for the girl's death?" prompted Mulder.

"Years later," continued the sheriff, as though Mulder had not spoken, "people started claiming that they had seen Wendall. That his clothes were soaked and that he was bruised and cut. Somehow, it seems, he was only seen around Halloween and as the years went by his appearance grew more randy. So the `tradition' started of people filling up their bird feeders with Alcott's candy the week around Halloween. The only reason I know of why it's the bird feeders that get filled is to keep him away from the houses."

Mulder still did not see the connection between the girl's death and the local superstition and it showed in his eyes.

"Joey says he forgot to tell the girl to make sure the bird feeder was filled with candy while he was gone. She wasn't local, so she didn't know to do it."

Raising his hands and shrugging his shoulders slightly, the sheriff indicated it was up to the agents to pass judgment on the story. "Tell me, sheriff," Marie asked, "is your bird feeder filled with candy?" The sheriff smiled shyly.

"Ma'am," he said, "I was born and raised here. Of course my bird feeder's filled."

The three law enforcement officers exited the sheriff's office and paused in the lobby as the sheriff gave some brief instructions to the clerk on duty. Mulder had requested that the sheriff take Marie and himself to the scene of the crime. While waiting for the sheriff to finish, Mulder became aware of the small radio on the clerk's desk and the song wafting from it. "They call me." Not only could you get just Country music around here, you could get just one Country song.

The sheriff led the agents to his car and took the scenic route to the cabin. The Blue Ridge Parkway. The sheriff knew it would add time to their trip but he couldn't resist showing off the grandeur of the local scenery. Late October and all the trees looked as though they had been painstakingly hand-painted. The red, yellow and orange colors of the leaves were especially vibrant in the clarity of the crisp mountain air. The scenery made the trip worthwhile. There was little to see at the cabin. Prints had been taken, footprint casts made, and the body removed. Visiting the cabin had really just been a cursory act. Their stay at the cabin was short and the sheriff then returned them to their car.

Mulder and Marie ordered a late lunch, or as Mulder had suggested they call it, an early dinner, in the small cafe, next to their motel. "So, Mulder," Marie asked, "do you give any credence to the boy's defense?"

Mulder at first didn't seem to hear her. But then he abruptly turned his attention to her. "Sorry," he said. Mulder waved his hand to indicate the speaker mounted into the wall. "That damn radio station seems to be a one trick pony. Anyway, I think it's a thought to consider. There are many documented instances of restless spirits that interact with the living and, on occasion, in a violent manner. Specific holidays and anniversaries of traumatic events seem to increase the frequency of such occurrences."

Marie, hesitantly at first, commented, "Even with all the documented events, it seems that most people have never had such an experience nor do they believe that such things happen."

Mulder did not seem insulted by Marie's observation. "Actually, more people than those who admit it have had such experiences. But for a variety of reasons, people are reluctant to relate these events. Reasons such as fear of ridicule, fear of loss of job, fear of being ostracized, fear of their whole belief system being destroyed. One thing that they all have in common though is that their lives could never again be the same."

Marie considered Mulder's dissertation for a moment. "I have to admit," she said, "I don't know how I would react if I were ever put in such a situation."

Mulder just smiled and finished his meal.

When they had both finished, Marie offered to take care of the check. Mulder gave his assent and headed to the back of the restaurant. A few minutes later, meeting at the front of the restaurant, Marie tossed Mulder a small packet. Deftly catching it, Mulder gave her a puzzled look. "If you were going to get me a snack," he said, "I would have preferred sunflower seeds."

Marie laughed and said, "Get with the program, Mulder." Looking more closely at the small packet of candy, understanding visible dawned on Mulder. Smiling slightly, Mulder slipped it into his pocket.

Returning to the police station, the agents were greeted with the news that the murder suspect they had come to see had been released on bond. "Quite frankly," the sheriff told them, "its situations like this that fuel clichés about small southern towns. Joey's story about the empty bird feeder and his saying that he and the girl were planning on getting married seemed to carry a lot of weight. So now he's out on bail."

Mulder was visibly annoyed. His decision to visit the crime scene before talking to the suspect had been ill advised. "Do you think he might be back at his cabin?" asked Mulder, "I would still like an opportunity to speak with him." The sheriff thought for a moment and then replied, "That would be the most likely place to find him."

Teri was excited. Her mother had said that she could have some friends over on Halloween night for a party. She had finished decorating the inside of the house and was now continuing the illusion of a haunted house to include the yard. Teri was hanging papier-mâché skeletons on the trees. She hoped there would be a slight breeze on Halloween night to cause the skeletons to perform a dance macabre.

Teri was surveying her handiwork when she noticed the bird feeder filled with candy. She had always thought the local superstition was the stupidest thing she had ever heard. Teri was not going to have such a silly thing at her party. She emptied the candy into the bag that had previously held decorations. Teri again took a moment to survey her handiwork. She was satisfied with the effect that she had created. Immersed in a sense of self-congratulatory, Teri barely registered the sound behind her.

A few miles from the suspect's cabin, Mulder heard his cell phone ring. Upon answering it, he heard the sheriff's voice. "Mr. Mulder, we've got another murder. Another young girl has been beaten to death. I know you're almost to Joey's cabin, so if you find him there, bring him in for questioning."

Mulder glanced at Marie before answering. "Sheriff, the timing doesn't sound right on this. I don't think he would have time to commit this murder and be back at his cabin now."

The sheriff's reply was short. "We'll sort that out after we talk to him."

Punching the end button on the phone, Mulder filled Marie in on the latest developments. They agreed to approach the cabin with caution. Mulder parked the car some distance from the cabin so as to not announce their arrival.

The agents covered the rest of the distance to the cabin on foot. Upon reaching the cabin and with gun drawn, Marie took her station by the front door while Mulder, gun also drawn, headed for the back of the cabin.

Giving Mulder a minute to cover the back door, Marie then announced their arrival. "Open up, FBI," she intoned. When there was no response, she tried the doorknob and felt it give under pressure from her hand. Opening the door, she quickly stepped in to a room lit only by the faint light of the setting sun.

Mulder heard Marie give the order to open up and then listened for her to enter the building. Instead, he heard a rustling sound behind him. Swinging around quickly, the momentum of his action only added to the impact to his jaw.

Finding the small cabin empty, Marie went to the back door, wondering why Mulder had not entered. Opening the door, she saw his crumpled figure. Quickly, she scanned the area and saw no one. She then hurried down the few back steps and knelt beside him. Assuring herself that he had a pulse, she patted his pockets looking for his cell phone. Just as she found it, she heard a rustling sound behind her. And as she turned, the light from a car's headlights swung in an arc across the front of the cabin and afforded the rear a smattering of illumination. The image revealed in the sparse light caused Marie to know that her life could never again be the same. Sitting in the sheriff's office with a bag of ice against his jaw, Mulder related what little he knew of the events in the rear of the cabin. "I never saw it coming or who hit me," said Mulder. "I hate to use a clique, but it all `happened so fast.'"

Marie's turn was next in narrating the evening's events. "..and I was about to phone for backup when I saw the headlights from a car approach the cabin. In the brief illumination, I saw the figure of a person a few yards from me. But the light was so brief and so faint that I can't give a description of the person."

The sheriff had sat patiently through the two agents' reports. He then added his. "Well, we're still comparing the evidence collected at the two crime scenes. At first glance, they're pretty similar, so my bet is the same person committed both murders. It's too bad that you didn't find Joey but it's lucky for Joey that the girl's dad didn't find him either. Miss Bowen's dad is in a cell sobering up right now. I never seen a man so riled up. Joey getting out on bond was more than the man could take. He got himself pretty tanked up before he drove up to the cabin to have at Joey." Mulder nodded and then turned to Marie and fixed her with an intense gaze. "Are you sure that you can't give some kind of a description of the person you saw at the cabin?"

Marie returned the gaze and said, "Mulder, I'm sorry but I truly cannot describe the person at all."

Mulder continued to fix Marie with a look. "Marie," he said, "the packet you gave me at lunch, remember? It's gone."

Marie looked at Mulder a moment, biting back a smile. "I'm sure it's in the grass at the back of the cabin, Mulder. Anyway, we need to be getting back to D.C. The powers that be have decided that until Joey is found, this investigation is on hold. It's been a pleasure, sheriff."

Marie finished tying the last of the hanky ghosts onto the large maple tree. It was the morning of Halloween but she had decided to decorate even if it were only for a day. Her neighbors in the modest allotment had obviously spared no expense in their efforts to create a domain of demonic horror. Witches and hobgoblins peered out of windows and dementedly grinning Jack-o-lanterns populated the porch of each house.

Marie's mind wondered over the events of her recent assignment with Mulder. The time had just never seemed right to initiate a relationship with him. It had been interesting to work with him, but she had decided that forming a personal relationship with a partner, no matter how temporary the partnership, would not have been in her best interest. Marie reached into the plastic bag and removed its last contents. Besides, women had fought too long to dispel the myth that men and woman couldn't work together on a strictly professional level. Scully was scheduled to return to work in a few days. It would be interesting to see what decision she had made on the subject.

As Marie walked across her yard, she smiled to herself over Mulder's preoccupation with the radio. She couldn't believe anyone could be so annoyed by a style of music. Opening the package that she had removed from the plastic bag, she wondered if Joey would ever be caught.

And she wondered what would be decided about his guilt or innocence. She thought about the superstition and how fascinated Mulder had been as the sheriff related the story to them. She then transferred the contents of the package into her bird feeder and thought about Mulder's list of reasons as to why people didn't admit to having had an otherworldly experience. What were the reasons he had given? Fear of ridicule, fear of loss of job, fear of being ostracized. Removing one of the pieces of candy from the bird feeder and slowly rotating it between her fingers, Marie wondered which fear was hers.

The end.


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