Abner (3/5) (fwd) by Kay Reindl
Gil Trevizo
I DID NOT WRITE THIS - I am the administrator for the x-files-fanfic
mailing list and am posting this story for a subscriber. For information
on the mailing list, go to "http://mail.utep.edu/~trevizo/x-files".
Please do not send comments for the author to me -- send them to
"Para...@aol.com". You may direct requests for missing parts to me though.
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ABNER (3/5)
Para...@aol.com
Disclaimer in first post...
*****
Mulder and Scully walked down the neatly tended path of the Kravitzes yard.
Scully waited until they were all the way to the sidewalk before she
stopped, grabbed Mulder by the arm, and looked him in the eye.
"Why, Mulder?" She asked simply. He sighed and shrugged. Both gestures
together were not a good thing.
"In my experience, Scully, even the wacky and bizarre can have meaning.
Gladys Kravitz is a big-mouthed busybody, but she's also extremely
observant," he replied.
"Yeah, apparently around the clock, Mulder. She's nuts! Just look at what
she's done to her husband!" Mulder couldn't dismiss the truth of that
statement.
"I know, Scully, and I don't for one minute think that the homemaker next
door is a witch or is in any way responsible for the murder, but do you think
it's a coincidence that this woman mentions a witch, and we find a pentagram
made out of candles, AND a pentagram is carved into the chest of the dead
man?"
Scully groaned.
"I wish you wouldn't keep things like that from me, Mulder. Carved into the
chest of a suicide, huh?"
Mulder grinned and handed her another file. She opened it and skimmed it
rapidly then shook her head.
"Whoever did this is really sick, Mulder, and out of control. This doesn't
look like any ritual killing."
"Not to put too fine a point on it, but duh Scully. Most serial killers
start with animals but the urge within them grows so much so that sometimes,
not even a human life is enough to quench their insatiable appetite."
"What are you saying, Mulder?"
Mulder took Scully's arm and led her down the sidewalk, trying to ignore the
glint of high-powered binoculars on his neck.
"Look at it this way. The suburbanites ignore the pentagram, which appears
and disappears with some regularity. They ignore the first animal killing,
which is a poisoning. They ignore the second animal killing, which is a
crucifixion. They ignore all subsequent animal killings, which get more
bizarre and more gruesome. If you look at the time frame, though, things
start getting really ugly. In all, twenty-five pets and one person were
murdered. In a week. Even for a budding serial killer, that's working
pretty fast."
Scully paused and looked at Mulder.
"That is odd," she said softly, "and except for Gladys Kravitz, nobody in
this neighborhood seems too upset by these events."
Mulder nodded.
"My point exactly. He'll strike again, Scully. Soon. Come on, let's see if
the witch is stirring her cauldron."
Scully hurried to catch up with her partner.
"For a minute there, I thought you were going to finger Gladys Kravitz as the
murderer," she said. Mulder looked at her oddly.
"Why would you think that?"
"She knew all about that actor's death, and the similarites -"
Mulder dismissed that with a wave of his hand.
"It's just old Hollywood lore, Scully. Everybody knows that stuff."
"Maybe, in her sick mind, Gladys Kravitz thought that she could get away with
murder by making it look like suicide," Scully offered. Mulder stopped and
whirled around. Even Scully couldn't manage to keep a straight face in the
presence of Mulder's outrage. She grinned breezily at him.
"Then again, who's that stupid?"
Mulder watched as Scully headed towards the Stevenses, umbrella swinging
jauntily.
*****
Samantha Stevens smiled at her daughter Tabitha as the little girl helped set
the table. She turned back to the stove but a sixth sense made her turn
around again. A fork floated past her nose.
"Tabitha," Samantha warned. The fork stopped and dropped to the floor. The
little girl bent to pick it up and carefully set it into the sink. Samantha
smiled.
"That's better. Darrin! Dinner!" She called. Her husband, Darrin Stevens,
the most wonderful man in the world, came downstairs. She beamed at him.
God, she loved that man! He smiled that odd, twisted smile of his and
kissed her on the nose. Samantha giggled. A private joke.
"Hi, sweetheart. What are we having?"
"Meatloaf!" his daughter piped up, "And I helped!" Darrin reached down and
picked his daughter up.
"Really, did you? I'm sure it will be twice as good as usual!"
"You know what they say, Darrin. Too many witches..."
Darrin set his daughter down in her chair.
"I thought that was too many cooks, Sam."
"It was adapted."
"We'd better eat quickly because I've got to get down to the office to go
over the sketches with Larry on the Jack Hill proposal."
Samantha smiled fondly at her hard-working husband. It was her goal in life
to please this man completely, and that included getting the meatloaf on the
table at a reasonable hour so that he could continue his work.
Darrin was almost ready to sit down when the doorbell rang. He and Samantha
exchanged a look. He smiled and rose.
"I'll get it."
*****
Mulder leaned over to Scully as they waited at the door of the Stevens house.
"Have you ever seen a neighborhood so whitebread in all your life?"
"Yeah. Yours."
"Ouch."
They got their badges ready and flashed them at a tall, lanky dark-haired man
who was dressed in an open-necked white shirt and a cardigan. He smiled
pleasantly at them and examined the badges. He began to look alarmed.
"Mr. Stevens? Nothing to worry about. I'm Fox Mulder, this is Dana Scully.
We're investigating the recent murder of Fred Dimsdale and would just like
to ask you a few questions."
Darrin turned and looked behind him for a long moment, then looked back at
Mulder and Scully and reluctantly opened the door.
"Of course. Please come in." Mulder and Scully stepped over the threshhold
and into a modest but airy house. Poorly decorated, thought Mulder, by
someone with little or no taste. Darrin ushered them into the living room.
Scully saw a blond woman, a blond little girl, and a wild-looking red-headed
woman staring at her. She looked at Darrin.
"I'm sorry, we're interrupting..." Darrin helped her to a seat.
"No, no, don't be silly." He looked at the red-headed woman and seemed to
glare at her. Mulder leaned forward, intrigued. Darrin made his way to the
dining room.
"Honey, the FBI would like to talk to us about Fred Dimsdale." Samantha came
forward and shook hands.
"How do you do. Samantha Stevens, this is our daughter Tabitha, and my
mother, Endora." The red-headed woman floated forward, a sardonic grin on
her face. Mulder was taken aback. This was the first indication of pure
meanness, not to mention assertiveness on the part of a woman, that he'd seen
yet. The old woman shook his hand, retracting her claw-like hand
distastefully. Mulder was repulsed.
"And you, Mrs., uh...?"
"Endora is fine," she drawled.
"Endora. Do you live here?"
Endora laughed.
"Goodness, no, young man. Live here? With Darwin? I don't think so."
Mulder saw Samantha Stevens wince. Interesting. These people were not as
bland as the others had been. Maybe they would get somewhere here.
*****
Mulder forked the last bite of meatloaf into his mouth. He smiled at
Samantha.
"Excellent meal, Mrs. Stevens. Thank you for having us."
"You're welcome, Agent Mulder. It's been delightful. Perhaps the women
should retire to the kitchen and bring out the dessert while the men go out
to the living room."
Mulder, frozen, looked at Scully. She glared daggers at him. He shrugged,
pushed back his chair, and followed Darrin into the living room. Scully
reluctantly picked up a plate and followed Samantha and her mother, who was
not carrying a thing, into the kitchen. I am a career woman, Scully reminded
herself, I have a demanding job that I have trained years for. I am a career
woman, not a walking doormat. Scully smiled falsely at Samantha, who was
slicing a large, mouth-watering chocolate cake.
"Why don't you make the coffee, Agent Scully. Oh, and you can ask the men if
they'd like any brandy. Darrin doesn't usually drink brandy after dinner,
but since we have guests...oh, and find out how your partner takes his
coffee, will you? Mother, if you're just going to stand there glowering at
the - at the, um, way I'm doing things, why don't you put Tabitha to bed."
"Of course, Samantha. Glad to be of some help," Endora drawled. She quirked
an eyebrow at Scully and glided out of the kitchen. I am a career
woman...Scully sighed. It was no use. She filled the coffee maker with
water. Samantha finished slicing the cake and turned to Scully.
"So, you work for the FBI! How exciting! Whatever do you do there?"
"I'm a medical doctor," Scully supplied automatically and then, much to her
horror, found herself reciting her academic and professional credits. She
stopped herself before bragging about the F. Emasculata incident. What a
horrible braggart this situation had turned her into!
"Uh, I'll go ask the men..." she mumbled, backing out the swinging door.
Christ! She was hideous! She was turning into her worst nightmare, and at
this point she couldn't decide if that nightmare was a ball-busting female
man or a simpering, clueless, devote-to-her-man housewife.
*****
(continued in next post)