60 : Bravery
Title: Bravery
Spoilers: "Hellbound"
Words: 7125
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When Reyes involves the team in the case of a violent serial killer, it's a rough couple of days at the office for Stark.
FBI National Academy
Quantico, Virginia
1:40 A.M.
"Hey, Stark." Yawning, the beleaguered FBI agent turned to see her partner's truck pull in not far from where she'd parked her Impala. Doggett stepped out of the truck looking equally as tired. "She called you in too?"
"Guess so," she replied, waiting for her partner to catch up with her. "At least you look better than I do," she added with a snort. He'd turned up in jeans and a leather jacket, while she was wearing an old pair of jeans and a Baltimore Orioles T-shirt she hadn't even bothered to tuck in.
"Somehow I don't think it's a fashion contest," he replied, holding the door for her as they stepped into the silent lobby of the FBI Academy.
Monica Reyes was waiting for them when the elevator arrived at the appropriate floor, holding a file. Stark just cocked an eyebrow. "The gang's all here," she said mirthfully. "Hi."
"Hey," Doggett concurred, with a nod.
"Hi," Monica replied. "Thanks for coming. Sorry about the hour."
"Don't mention it," Stark said before she could self-censor, "I don't really sleep that well anyway."
That heretofore unrevealed peace of information got her partner to give her a look that said he was going to remember that, before he turned his attention back to Monica. "The way you sounded seemed like it was something that couldn't wait."
Reyes shook her head. "No. I need another set of eyes on it. I called Scully in, too."
"A little late to be looking for a sitter. What's so pressing?" he asked, and she handed over the file. Stark moved to examine it along with him as he read. "Victor Dale Potts. Ex-con, three-time loser, career criminal."
"He was murdered five days ago," Reyes explained. "Scully's got the crime report."
Stark arched an eyebrow. "Career criminals tend to piss a lot of people off," she replied. The look on her partner's face indicated he was thinking the same thing as he added, "I'm sorry, what am I missing?"
"It's the way it was killed," Monica said, walking away and leaving them to follow after her. The three of them walked into an autopsy room where Scully was waiting and Stark immediately took a deep breath. She felt uncomfortable with autopsies in general, so she hoped she was standing there for a really good reason. "Um..."
"Agent Doggett. Agent Patrick," Scully said by way of greeting.
"Agent Scully," Doggett replied.
But Scully's glance was still fixed on the petite brunette standing next to him looking incredibly nonplussed. "Is Agent Patrick okay?" she asked.
"She has an aversion to autopsies," Doggett said by way of explanation. "Can we get this over with?"
A genuinely recalcitrant Reyes explained to Scully, "I'd like them to see the body."
Scully slowly lifted the sheet, and Stark made the mistake of actually looking since she figured it was important. Even her partner glanced at it and then had to turn almost immediately away. The body was completely skinned.
"Damn," Doggett remarked. "I've seen a bunch of these when I was a cop. It's a favorite of some of the Pan-Asian gangs."
"I don't think we have those in Baltimore," Stark replied, some way of adding something to the situation while she was trying not to think about what she'd just seen and make a fool of herself by losing it.
"The difference is, Victor Potts had a premonition of his death," Reyes interjected.
"And?" Doggett retorted.
Scully looked equally unimpressed. "That was my question," she said, looking at Monica almost expectantly. Stark felt it was a little bit weird she'd kept Scully in the dark, too. There was definitely something going on. That made her take notice, regardless of the fact that she'd just been grossed out. "Come on, Monica," she urged. "What's happening here?"
"What I'm saying is," Reyes said slowly, "this man was skinned alive just hours after describing it in exact detail."
"Maybe he could describe it because maybe somebody threatened him," Doggett replied evenly.
"He said it came in a dream, or a vision according to the woman who last spoke to him."
"Who's that?"
"Dr. Lisa Holland. She's a therapist who runs an anger management group for ex-cons," Reyes explained.
Stark pinched the bridge of her nose. "You've got a whole handful of possible suspects right there already."
Her partner nodded his agreement. "Lifelong criminal's bound to have some bad enemies. People capable of this very thing. I mean, unless there's something here that I'm just not seeing."
He was looking to Scully for some sort of clarification, but there was little she could give. "Well, from what I could see from my visual exam, the skin was removed with considerable skill by someone using a hunting-type knife. Arteries and veins were left intact so as to prolong the period that the victim would suffer."
"Terrible way to die, for sure," he stated needlessly.
"I know," Monica said, her voice barely audible even in the relative echo of the room.
Everyone immediately turned and looked at her. Her cagey behavior wasn't fooling anyone anymore, not when she woke everyone up at close to two in the morning for a death that was five days old already. "Is there anything else, Agent Reyes?" Scully asked pointedly. "Something special that brought this case to your attention as a possible X-File?"
"No." Monica glanced at them all. "I just know I need to solve this, and I'd appreciate your help."
She held their gaze for a moment. Doggett glanced at Scully across the autopsy table and then at Stark. Reyes wasn't the kind of woman to go asking for favors, and she had already pulled them out of bed. What was the harm in at least asking a few questions?
"We'll see what we can do," he finally said. "After we all get a few more hours of sleep."
****
Stark was grateful to be out of the autopsy room, and not having to pretend like she was okay anymore. She just shuddered for a second, digging her keys out of the pocket of her jeans and figuring she could get at least another five hours of sleep before turning around and heading into the office.
"Stark," Monica said, on her heels. "I want to apologize. I had no idea..."
"Don't mention it," Stark replied. "S'not something I exactly like to admit. I just had a rough experience during an autopsy once, and looking at dead people isn't exactly pleasant for anyone, is it?"
"No." Reyes smiled slightly. "I suppose it's not."
Stark chuckled. "I'll be fine, Monica, but thank you. I'll see you in a couple of hours."
She managed to get to the elevator before she heard someone else behind her, and had to laugh at how she was never going to get out of this building and back to her bed. Of course, it was her partner, who was more than capable of sneaking up behind her. She figured it was just because they stuck together, at least until they got in the elevator and he was giving her that patented I know you're hiding something, now out with it look.
"What's this about you not sleeping? Something going on?"
"No, John, nothing's going on. It's just me." She shrugged. "It happens. I'm fine." But he was still giving her that look. "Really, it's nothing, okay?" she insisted.
"I so don't believe you."
She gave a slightly exasperated sigh. "It's just this job, okay? Some of this stuff isn't as easy to leave at the office as it was before. It sticks with me. I'm used to it by now."
"That's why you have me and Agent Scully and Agent Reyes," he reminded her.
"And Ambien," she added helpfully as the elevator dinged with its arrival and they both stepped back into the Quantico lobby. "I'll be okay, John. It's something that I have to deal with. But that's what we do, right? Life goes on."
"Yeah," he said, skeptically. "I suppose it does."
****
As it was she got more sleep than she had expected to, both because she had slept well and because the case was still in her home state. Reyes drove the three of them to the small town of Novi, Virginia, and Stark, who was in the back seat amusing herself with apple Jolly Ranchers and happy to not be leaving the country, stifled a laugh as she figured out where they were going.
"A church. This is classic," she found herself saying as Reyes pulled into the parking lot of the First Calvary Church. "Ex-cons in a church, that's irony. Also surprisingly topical."
"What do you mean?" Reyes asked, looking puzzled.
"Josh Hamilton credits his entire turnaround to finding God," Stark supplied, popping another Jolly Rancher into her mouth before she left the bag in the car and stepped out along with her colleagues. Including her partner, who just snorted at the fact she had the irreverence of mind to connect a potential X-File to her man-crush.
But the jokes all went by the wayside when they started making introductions to a detective who couldn't be bothered to keep their names straight. "There isn't a lot to investigate," Van Allen told them, seeming quite bored by the fact that they were there at all. "I mean, Victor Potts wasn't exactly one of the FBI's ten most wanted."
Doggett arched an eyebrow. "I think Agent Reyes means your insight into the way he died, Detective."
"Don't have any. But I'm sure you'd rather talk to somebody who actually gives a damn, right?" the detective replied, and before anyone could answer him, had turned away and started into the church.
"Charming, isn't he?" Stark remarked.
Monica still looked piqued. "Yeah, no kidding."
John looked at the two of them. "Hate to say it but, he probably sums up most people's feelings," he admitted, as the three of them went to catch up.
Inside the church they were finally introduced to Dr. Lisa Holland, the woman in charge of the support group that Victor Potts had belonged to. She was pretty much as Stark had expected: an overly sympathetic woman who was trying to reform the people most of society had given up on, in the same way most women thought they were going to change their boyfriends. "It's hard for the Victor Pottses of the world. Nobody cares much about them in life or in death," she told them sadly.
"Victor told the group a story about a dream he'd had," Reyes started.
"These men are haunted by their pasts. That's why they're here."
"...but this dream came true."
"Sometimes the past they want to escape won't let them," Dr. Holland said, then her face appeared to stick in thought. "There was a man. Ed. He drove Victor to group that night. He was all over Victor's case."
"You think he could have killed him?" Doggett asked, happy to seize on something that was fact and not rhetoric.
She just looked at him impassively. "I try to help these men. Some have been violent, some still are. It's not my place to judge them."
"Dr. Holland, there's justice to be served here," he reminded her. "You can't forget that."
But she just continued to look at him beatifically. "I'm sure Agent Reyes won't let me. Probably won't let anybody."
Reyes stood and offered her hand to the doctor. "Thank you for your help," she said, rising and leaving the room.
Stark and Doggett got up to follow her, but Stark saw her partner hesitate and turn back. The woman's words spoke of a greater familiarity with Monica than just having met minutes ago. He drew the conclusion in his head, "She contacted you with this case?" he asked, a little surprised.
Dr. Holland nodded. "I think the police would have given up on who murdered Victor Potts if it wasn't for her."
The two of them headed toward the front of the church, giving each other a look. "That's what don't get," Stark said. "I understand being invested in something, but what's Monica's connection to this case? Gut instinct doesn't seem like enough to me."
"I don't know, but it doesn't seem like she's gonna tell," her partner told her. "And I'm not so sure I want to find out."
****
At some point, Stark always preferred to sit down with all the evidence that she had on a case, and discuss it, either with herself or with her partner. It was a habit that Victor had impressed upon her. However, considering that they were talking about a particularly gruesome death and there was food in front of them - not Chinese food, thankfully - they'd abstained from eating until after they'd finished discussing the case. Which had consisted of going through every single ex-con in Lisa Holland's support group and looking for a reason why anyone would want to kill Victor Potts...and coming up with nothing.
Now they were sitting in a tiny hotel room in the middle of the night, poking at cold french fries and looking utterly bored. Stark was sprawled in the chair, in track pants and a faded Baltimore City Police Department T-shirt, trying to get the score for the Orioles game off ESPN. Her partner, who had ditched the dress shirt and tie a long time ago, was stretched on the couch eyeing her. "How is that comfortable?" he asked.
"I've been sitting around in chairs all day," she replied. "And you were already hogging the couch."
"I could have just moved," he retorted. There was no denying it had been a rough last few weeks for them, between the people trying to lure Mulder out of hiding and his attack of amnesia. They were trying to get back to normal, as best they could. "Maybe I should have taken that vacation Skinner suggested."
She laughed. "Yeah, and go where, and do what, John?" she replied. "I don't even remember the last vacation either of us took and even if you did go, you'd still be wondering what the hell we were doing without you. Remember that time I decided I'd go on the season-opening road trip with my brother and I ended up coming home early 'cause I missed you?"
The cell phone behind him began to ring, and he glanced over his shoulder. "Who the hell is calling me at this hour?" he asked, grabbing the phone and flicking it open. "John Doggett. What can I do for you, Dr. Holland?"
Stark shifted in the chair, arching an eyebrow as she listened to her partner processing information. She could guess by common sense that if the woman was calling at this hour it wasn't good, and she laced up her shoes, figuring they were going to be on their way out the door. That was when the sound of something else reached her ears, and eventually that of her partner's. Monica's voice.
"Dr. Holland, I'm gonna have to call you back," he said, and the both of them got up and bolted for the door to the adjoining room. "Monica?" he asked, as they both moved into the doorway to see Reyes bolt upright in bed. "What the hell are you dreaming about?"
Still slightly out of it, Reyes shook her head. "Nothing. It was a nightmare. How did you know to come in here?"
"I was on the phone," he explained. "We could hear you through the wall calling out."
Reyes glanced at the bedside clock before she looked back up at both of them. "Who were you on the phone to?" she asked.
"Dr. Lisa Holland," Doggett clarified. "That anger management group she runs, it's getting smaller. They found another body they want us to see."
When they arrived on the scene at the meat packing plant (which should have been an indicator that this wasn't going to be pretty), the police had already secured the area. Detective Van Allen was already there. More confusing was the near total darkness they found themselves in, except for the light from a few police Maglites.
"What happened to the lights?" Reyes asked as they cautiously approached the detective.
"Somebody cut 'em. Might want to watch your step. We got some blood on the floor. Not as much as you'd expect." He shone his flashlight to indicate the blood he was talking about, and then carefully moved it over the body that was hanging there.
Stark felt the cheeseburger consider coming back up, but her reaction was nowhere near as bad as Monica's. "Oh, my God," Reyes blurted, before she turned and ran. Despite John's brief effort to stop her and ask after her, she slipped past him and fled without looking back. Watching her go, if only so she didn't have to look at the body, Stark's only thought was that Reyes must have had a hell of a nightmare.
Her partner, however, was already approaching the body. Both of them pulled on latex gloves, and she moved to shadow him as he borrowed a flashlight from one of the cops and poked the dead man's cheek.
Neither of them expected him to move.
Stark may have blurted out an expletive in surprise. The look of total horror on her partner's face spoke for both of them. "Holy God, he's still alive! Somebody get in here and get him down! We need a medic in here!" he barked, seizing instant control of the situation. He looked desperately at the man in front of him. "Can you hear me? Do you understand? Who did this to you? Do you know who did this to you?"
The man said something almost incoherent, and Stark swallowed as she stepped back, along with her partner, to allow the paramedics that had been preparing for an autopsy to move in. The two of them shared a glance. "My God," her partner said again. "I don't know what he said."
Stark looked at him. "It sounded like an E sound. Eh."
"Ed." He seized upon it instantly. "Ed Kelso. The one Dr. Holland said was on Victor Potts' case before he died. We'd better find out where that guy is, right now," he stated needlessly, already turning to run.
****
"You take the front, I'll take the back," Stark suggested as they stepped from the car to the street outside Ed Kelso's residence, the police backup already on their heels. "Otherwise you're gonna have too many people in one place."
"Yeah, and you're faster if he makes a break for it," her partner concurred before he turned his attention to the police. "Two of you with me. The other two go with Agent Patrick and cover the rear."
"I'm going with you," Detective Van Allen interrupted.
Doggett gave him a look, clearly regarding him as a small-town cop trying to get his piece of the action. "I don't care where you go, I just want to get this guy before he kills somebody else," he replied.
Stark wasn't really paying attention. She was busy scaling the back gate, landing as quietly as one could under the circumstances. Flattening herself against the wall she saw that the backyard was empty, and elected to stay at the side of the house and wait and see what developed. It only took a matter of minutes before she heard a commotion and saw Ed Kelso barrel from the house. She moved in to assist, but it was completely unnecessary: her partner had already tackled Kelso to the grass.
"What part of 'stop right there' did you not understand?" he growled as he reached for his handcuffs, and while she holstered her gun, Stark couldn't help but laugh.
****
The interrogation was not going as planned. Upon being notified that Ed Kelso was in custody, Dr. Holland had insisted that she wanted to speak with him, something about getting him to open up. After Doggett and Patrick had taken their swing at him, which largely consisted of intimidating the hell out of him (admittedly easy to do when the guy was already terrified and being questioned by an ex-Marine capable of a very chilling stare), they had reluctantly consented, and had been spending the last twenty minutes outside the interview room with Reyes, listening to what must have been every self-help cliche in the book.
"This woman is like a broken record," Stark deadpanned. "Is there any excuse she won't come up with?"
"If there is I haven't found it yet," her partner replied.
Reyes looked from one to the other. It was spooky sometimes how well they agreed with one another. "Is there anything you two don't agree on?" she asked.
"My taste in music," Stark supplied.
Doggett's lips quirked. "She listens to the Spice Girls."
Reyes couldn't help but laugh a little at that, while Stark was giving her partner a look that read clearly as you just had to mention that, didn't you? She sobered immediately, however, when she saw Dr. Holland get up and exit the room, stepping out into the hallway to join them looking as placatingly serene as she always had. Doggett didn't look particularly impressed. "So what?" he asked. "He's just waiting for his lawyer? That's what he's doing?"
"He's in a bad place," Dr. Holland elaborated. "I've been there myself once or twice sitting right where he is now, not thinking you have a chance."
"Yeah?" he replied sarcastically. "You ever murdered two men?"
She shook her head. "He's four years out of prison holding down a job, showing up to work sober. Why do it? Kill a friend and a co-worker?"
"You're the one that said he was a hothead, right?" he reminded her. "Why run if you're not guilty? Bag packed to hit the road...packed with knives?"
"I don't think we're going to find the murder weapon on him," Reyes interjected.
He turned his head to look at her. "What makes you say that?"
"Because I think this man here is running from something else. I want to talk to him," she said, and before anyone could oppose her, walked into the interrogation room and sat down opposite Kelso. It all seemed pretty normal until Reyes started talking about seeing things, and looking like she was going to lose it.
"What's got her so worked up?" Stark muttered, looking at her partner.
"I don't know, but I'm putting a stop this before she screws up the whole case," he decided, opening the interrogation room door and looking at Reyes. "Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked, and when she stepped out, he gave her an even look. "You want to explain to me what you're doing in there, Agent Reyes?"
"I'm trying to make a connection."
"Hell of a way to do it," he retorted, unconvinced. "I can see this guy's defense already. 'Your honor, I was having bad dreams...seeing things. Ask Agent Reyes, she's seeing 'em, too.' Something you're not telling us?" he asked again for what must have been the half-dozenth time since she had brought the case to them.
Monica looked from him to Stark and back again. "Monica," Stark said honestly, "there's nothing you could say that is any stranger than anything we've been through." That seemed to sway the other agent, but before Reyes could reply, Detective Van Allen barged his way into the room.
"You guys about finished?" he asked roughly.
"With what?" Doggett asked.
"The suspect. He's not our man."
"What are you talking about?"
"Girlfriend vouched for him. Said they were getting hammered down at the Bent Oak from six o'clock till closing. Bartender confirms it," Van Allen replied, pushing past them to go into the interview room and tell Kelso he was being released. Reyes turned her eyes to Dr. Holland, while Doggett was still fixated on Kelso. "I know where you live, partner," he reminded the man dryly as he walked away.
Reyes answered her cell phone, and a moment later she snapped it shut. "I need to go back to Quantico," she explained. "Agent Scully says she has something I need to see."
John nodded, still bristling a little. "We'll stay here and see what else we can dig up. I don't want to let that guy out of my sight."
****
"Okay, so where are we at?" Stark asked her partner as they left the police station, after Monica had departed with assurances she would call from Quantico. "Is it safe to assume that whomever is doing this - if it's not Kelso - is targeting people from this particular anger management group? It's not a risk of a greater epidemic?"
"I think whoever did this has made their choice of victims pretty clear," he replied. "And we can't exactly go around securing protective custody for ex-cons, so we'd better go back over that list of 'em again before it gets any shorter."
"Detective Van Allen said he'd put eyes on Kelso's place," she replied. "Forensics has the knives you recovered off him but I doubt if any of them are the murder weapon. I say we go back to the hotel and start looking at other suspects. Only because there's nothing else we can do..."
Which they did, to not much avail. It was all information that they had seen the day before, and aside from checking on the whereabouts of all the ex-cons, they couldn't improve much. There was simply no way they could keep eyes on all of them at all times. Of course, that discussion reminded them that they had existing surveillance in the field, and they were just restless enough to go and check up on it. Except when they arrived outside Kelso's house, there was no one there. The house was dark but there was no surveillance unit to be found.
"What the hell is going on here?" Doggett growled, thoroughly unamused.
"So our lead detective is not only a piece of work, he's incompetent?" Stark theorized. "I don't like this guy, John. He's been in Monica's face since we got here and he seems to like it every time he can show us up."
"I bet you that's what he's trying to do right now," he replied, reaching for his cell phone as it rang. "John Doggett." He nodded a little to let Stark know it was Reyes on the phone. "Sitting outside the suspect's house wondering where the surveillance is I ordered," he explained. He spoke to Reyes a moment longer. "He may be gone. I'll call you." Snapping the phone shut, he eyed Stark. "She thinks Kelso might be in danger of becoming the next victim," he explained succintly, before he stepped out of the car, leaving her to catch up.
She followed after him, both of them taking a cursory glance around the outside of the house. There was no one there, no light and no sound. He was already on his cell phone again, trying to reach Van Allen as he moved to the door and knocked. Standing next to him, Stark saw the horrified expression on her partner's face and looked to see what had prompted it. Her stomach lurched. Without having to be told twice, she pulled her gun from its holster, clicked the safety off and moved to take a cover position as he kicked down the door, which slammed back on its hinges. Moving into the room behind him, she got her first good glimpse at the skinned corpse of Ed Kelso, the fresh blood still dripping off of him.
Averting her eyes, she snapped her phone open. "Agent Reyes? You'd better get back here now. Kelso just bought it."
They were still at the house, now a fully secured crime scene, when Reyes arrived. Stark was busy either trying to break up a fight between her partner and Detective Van Allen, or getting a piece of it, she couldn't really decide which. As it was, Doggett was fuming and Stark hadn't seen much that intimidated her more than her partner when he was actually enraged about something. "I said this house was supposed to be under a twenty-four hour watch," he pointed out to the detective, voice dripping with disgust.
"Patrolman says he wasn't gone more than five minutes."
"You see that man in there?" Doggett snapped back. "You think it takes five minutes to do that to somebody, Detective?"
"I don't know how long it takes, Agent Doggett. Only know you said watch him so he don't run."
"Which you didn't do, is the point," Stark interjected. "Along with showing a completely callous disregard for human life."
Van Allen just eyed her. "Who said there were any humans involved?" he asked.
She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She had no idea how he had decided to become a cop, let alone earned a detective's badge, something that she had worked her ass off for when she had been a cop. She had half a mind to see it taken from him. Her partner was equally as incensed, moving to give Van Allen another piece of his mind when Reyes interrupted. She was standing there holding a stack of files.
"I have something to show you."
He let his anger out in one slow breath, and then nodded back toward the house. As they moved inside, Reyes lingered by the door, passing the files to Stark, who skimmed them with a confused noise. That got her partner's attention, and he took them from her, glancing at them as he moved to the other side of the room.
"That's just a little too creepy to be coincidence," Stark admitted.
Her partner didn't look up from the documents in front of him. "This thing with the birthdays is weird, no doubt about it. Looks to me like we're dealing with a real sick puppy here."
"I don't think so," Monica replied.
"Choosing your victims because of their damn birth dates? It's the very definition of a serial killer. I think we should get the boys from Behavioral Science out on this."
"No," Reyes said, the finality in her voice causing both the other agents to look at her. "That's not what's happening here."
"It's the only thing that makes sense."
"To you."
The skepticism was clear on John's face, not to mention the confusion on Stark's, as they glanced at her. They had to hope that maybe she had finally chosen now to tip her hand on her as-yet-unfigured connection to this case. "Okay," he said, humoring her. "What do you think it is?"
"He knew he was going to die. He had a premonition of his death. Just like the first victim did."
"So how do you figure that?"
"I'm involved in this some way. I have some kind of memory of it. It's all happened before and now it's happening again."
Stark arched an eyebrow. "Like a past life?" she asked, causing Reyes to give her a look.
Her partner corrected, "You mean that it's a copycat and you have some kind of recall."
Reyes turned her attention toward Stark, whom she could see was weighing this information and more on the fence about what she was being told. "These men were born to die this way. The same way they died before."
"The same way they died before?" Doggett echoed skeptically.
"Not the men...but their souls. Their souls are murdered over and over again from one lifetime to the next. By someone who won't let them rest."
He arched an eyebrow. "So how's this happening, their souls coming back? Reincarnation?"
"It doesn't strike you that these men were all born on the dates of the previous victims' deaths?"
"Yeah, it strikes me. It strikes me that the killer is clever."
"I think what he's saying, Monica," Stark interjected, "is that as much as we'd like to believe you, there's nothing that can prove what you're suggesting is true."
Reyes glanced at her. "A rag is stuffed in his mouth. A dirty rag. Black with soot."
The two of them just stared at her for a long moment. By the time she had arrived at the house, the body had already been concealed; there was no way for her to have known that. They watched as she advanced on Kelso's corpse and looked under the sheet to prove that she was, in fact, absolutely right. "Coal dust...from a coal mine," she mused aloud.
"How did you know that?" Doggett said, still in shock.
Her eyes met his. "I don't know."
"This is insane," he started.
"John," Stark cautioned. As much as she agreed with him about most things, she couldn't deny that they were behind the theoretical eight-ball. His lead suspect was dead and Reyes had just proved she knew at least one thing. It seemed only fair - and all they had - to give Reyes a chance now that they knew why she was involved in the first place. She turned her attention to the other agent. "Monica, focus. What else do you know? What can you see?"
"You actually believe this?" Doggett asked, eyeing her, and she just looked back at him. "I believe that we don't have much else to go on, John. Let's think about this. Where's the nearest mine?"
****
It was dark by the time they arrived at the old Fitzgerald mine. Stark and Reyes had located it with a little digging, and it seemed like the next logical step in their investigation. Though they'd argued about it a little more, Stark had finally gotten her partner to come around by pointing out if he didn't trust the new theory, he did trust her. He'd asked her to trust him recently and she had; now she was asking him to return the favor, and he had reluctantly agreed.
"So what are we looking for?" he asked.
"I don't know," Reyes admitted. "But if the files are correct, there's going to be a fourth victim."
"And probably in the very near future," Stark agreed, "considering how quickly the last two have died."
The three of them carefully moved away the boards that covered the front of the mine shed, peering inside at plenty of cobwebs and dust from the last hundred or so years. "It looks like housekeeping hasn't been here in a while," her partner deadpanned.
Reyes snorted. "Who's going in?" Another glance between them figured this out, and she said, "I'll check out the mine."
As she had gone, the two partners moved their way into the mine shed, amidst the old furniture and debris. "I didn't know you started believin' in this kind of stuff," Doggett commented as they glanced around.
"Don't go taking this too far," Stark warned him. "I was weighing the evidence. One dead prime suspect and one agent who proved she knew at least one fact right. I'm not going to start coming up with conspiracy theories."
"Good, 'cause I got enough of that." He continued further into the shed, stopping only when he found a skeleton resting against the wall. "Hey, Stark, take a look at this," he said, and she came over for a closer look. He showed her the sheriff's badge still attached to the body, to say nothing of the bullet hole in the head. He reached for the gun in the dead man's hand.
"Obviously self-inflicted," Stark said, and her partner turned and glanced at her. Like it or not, Reyes' theory of there being a previous pattern was gaining more and more credence with every step.
"We'd better catch up with Agent Reyes," he suggested.
The two of them exited the mine shed and circled around to the entrance of the mine. It was easy to spot where Reyes had cracked the lock and entered. Keeping her hand on her gun just in case, Stark advanced inside, keeping astride her partner as he called for their colleague. Moving deeper inside, they found Reyes on the floor, on her hands and knees as she tried desperately to suck air into her lungs. Both of them rushed to her side.
"Agent Reyes. Are you hurt?" he asked. "Talk to me."
"He was here, wasn't he?" Stark guessed needlessly.
Monica nodded slightly. "He was here."
"Who?" Doggett asked her.
"Van Allen," she replied. "He's who's killing these men."
"Van Allen's the cop here," he protested.
"But think about it," Stark found herself saying, maybe because her dislike of the cavalier detective had suddenly been vindicated. "It makes sense. Why your surveillance never showed up. Why he kept screwing with us. He's not trying to beat us, he's trying to keep from getting caught."
Reyes looked at her with something akin to gratitude. "That's why these cases never get solved," she continued. "Every time, four murders. Every time, four bodies. Then he takes his own life so he can just start it up all over again. There's still a fourth victim, and I think I know who it is."
"Who?" Stark asked, following after Monica as she moved swiftly from the mine.
"Dr. Holland," Reyes told her. "We've got to warn her."
The other agent was already on her cell phone before they could even get into the car. Doggett didn't need any persuasion to floor it as soon as Reyes told him Dr. Holland was still at the church. They would have to hurry; now that Van Allen had confronted Reyes he had to know his time to finish his work was running out.
They roared onto the scene just in time to see Lisa Holland come tearing out the back door of the church. John pulled her into his arms and out of the way, Stark taking up a cover position as Reyes drew her weapon on Van Allen. She was just looking for a reason, and she got it when he advanced on her with the knife in his hand. She fired and dropped him in an instant. "Get the paramedics out here," Reyes said, and Stark had never heard the normally genial woman's voice sound so cold.
Van Allen laid there, staring up at them, still unbelievably smug. "You...always fail."
That was enough for Reyes, who lunged at him, grabbing him violently by the shirt. "You're not dying on me!" she snapped. "Not until you tell me what you mean!"
John stepped in to pull her off before she could do any damage, but Stark just stayed with Dr. Holland, biting her lip. She knew what it was like to be so angry, so full of hate and desperation. To need answers to something that you knew was going to change your entire life.
She'd been there before, in an alley off Monroe Street in San Diego.
****
None of them could say they weren't glad to see this particular city in their rear view mirror. Packing her bag in the hotel room she and her partner had been sharing, Stark felt her body start to reflect the toll her head and heart had taken. Her shoulders slumped as she considered not just the gruesome nature of the deaths, but the uncomfortable feelings they had stirred up inside her. She stopped packing and leaned heavily on her bed, breathing deeply.
John moved into the doorway, intending on getting his garment bag out of the closet. He saw her standing there and frowned to himself. "Stark?" he said quietly, moving into the room and settling a hand gently on her back. "You want to talk about it?"
"I don't know how much there is to talk about," she admitted. She turned to hop up onto the bed, sitting there and glancing up at him. "It's just a feeling. I understand how she feels, you know, because I've been there before. And it wasn't a time in my life that I enjoy thinking about. Just a lot of bad memories."
"That case in San Diego," he said, knowing it was one of the few that still stuck in her memory.
She nodded a little. "I was so upset when she went down," she said. "Not just because I had shot a cop but because I wanted to know why. I wanted to know what had made her decide to switch sides like that. How she could just give up on everything she had stood for for so long. Even when I confronted her again, I never got an answer that I liked." She bit her lip. "The sad thing is I at least partially understood her."
"What do you mean?"
"If I lost you, I'd probably go to pieces too." A pause, an attempt at cracking a smile. "Not psychotic, hostage-taking pieces but...pieces."
He smiled slightly at that, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. After a moment, she got up, closed her suitcase, and headed for the car. They still needed to get Monica, and they knew exactly where to find her. She was hovering outside Van Allen's room in the local ICU, and didn't even turn when they approached after checking in with the doctors on his condition.
"Doc says it's going to be touch-and-go tonight...that we should go home," he advised her. "Go on, Monica. Go on home. There's nothing you're going to learn here now."
She turned her head and looked at him. "You still won't believe it, will you? My connection to this man."
Wisely, he didn't answer. "However you did it...however you knew what you know...what matters here is you saved a woman's life," he said instead, putting a hand on her shoulder for a moment before he turned to leave.
Reyes looked past him at Stark. "You believe me, don't you?"
"I don't know what I believe, Monica," she admitted, putting her hands in her pockets. "I do know that while I don't exactly understand the paranormal? I understand human nature pretty well. And I know what it's like to feel something so strongly that you'll do whatever you have to, in order to get the answers you need. And I know...how much it hurts when you don't." She swallowed. "I don't know if I believe but I do know what you're going through. For whatever that's worth."
The other woman gave her a faint smile. "It's worth something, Stark. Thank you."
"Don't mention it," she replied. "Just let me sleep in tomorrow." And with a small smile of her own, Stark turned and walked away, moving to catch up with her partner. She wanted to go home. Somehow, though, she doubted she'd get any sleep.
She would be distracted by Marissa Haber.
Spoilers: "Hellbound"
Words: 7125
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When Reyes involves the team in the case of a violent serial killer, it's a rough couple of days at the office for Stark.
FBI National Academy
Quantico, Virginia
1:40 A.M.
"Hey, Stark." Yawning, the beleaguered FBI agent turned to see her partner's truck pull in not far from where she'd parked her Impala. Doggett stepped out of the truck looking equally as tired. "She called you in too?"
"Guess so," she replied, waiting for her partner to catch up with her. "At least you look better than I do," she added with a snort. He'd turned up in jeans and a leather jacket, while she was wearing an old pair of jeans and a Baltimore Orioles T-shirt she hadn't even bothered to tuck in.
"Somehow I don't think it's a fashion contest," he replied, holding the door for her as they stepped into the silent lobby of the FBI Academy.
Monica Reyes was waiting for them when the elevator arrived at the appropriate floor, holding a file. Stark just cocked an eyebrow. "The gang's all here," she said mirthfully. "Hi."
"Hey," Doggett concurred, with a nod.
"Hi," Monica replied. "Thanks for coming. Sorry about the hour."
"Don't mention it," Stark said before she could self-censor, "I don't really sleep that well anyway."
That heretofore unrevealed peace of information got her partner to give her a look that said he was going to remember that, before he turned his attention back to Monica. "The way you sounded seemed like it was something that couldn't wait."
Reyes shook her head. "No. I need another set of eyes on it. I called Scully in, too."
"A little late to be looking for a sitter. What's so pressing?" he asked, and she handed over the file. Stark moved to examine it along with him as he read. "Victor Dale Potts. Ex-con, three-time loser, career criminal."
"He was murdered five days ago," Reyes explained. "Scully's got the crime report."
Stark arched an eyebrow. "Career criminals tend to piss a lot of people off," she replied. The look on her partner's face indicated he was thinking the same thing as he added, "I'm sorry, what am I missing?"
"It's the way it was killed," Monica said, walking away and leaving them to follow after her. The three of them walked into an autopsy room where Scully was waiting and Stark immediately took a deep breath. She felt uncomfortable with autopsies in general, so she hoped she was standing there for a really good reason. "Um..."
"Agent Doggett. Agent Patrick," Scully said by way of greeting.
"Agent Scully," Doggett replied.
But Scully's glance was still fixed on the petite brunette standing next to him looking incredibly nonplussed. "Is Agent Patrick okay?" she asked.
"She has an aversion to autopsies," Doggett said by way of explanation. "Can we get this over with?"
A genuinely recalcitrant Reyes explained to Scully, "I'd like them to see the body."
Scully slowly lifted the sheet, and Stark made the mistake of actually looking since she figured it was important. Even her partner glanced at it and then had to turn almost immediately away. The body was completely skinned.
"Damn," Doggett remarked. "I've seen a bunch of these when I was a cop. It's a favorite of some of the Pan-Asian gangs."
"I don't think we have those in Baltimore," Stark replied, some way of adding something to the situation while she was trying not to think about what she'd just seen and make a fool of herself by losing it.
"The difference is, Victor Potts had a premonition of his death," Reyes interjected.
"And?" Doggett retorted.
Scully looked equally unimpressed. "That was my question," she said, looking at Monica almost expectantly. Stark felt it was a little bit weird she'd kept Scully in the dark, too. There was definitely something going on. That made her take notice, regardless of the fact that she'd just been grossed out. "Come on, Monica," she urged. "What's happening here?"
"What I'm saying is," Reyes said slowly, "this man was skinned alive just hours after describing it in exact detail."
"Maybe he could describe it because maybe somebody threatened him," Doggett replied evenly.
"He said it came in a dream, or a vision according to the woman who last spoke to him."
"Who's that?"
"Dr. Lisa Holland. She's a therapist who runs an anger management group for ex-cons," Reyes explained.
Stark pinched the bridge of her nose. "You've got a whole handful of possible suspects right there already."
Her partner nodded his agreement. "Lifelong criminal's bound to have some bad enemies. People capable of this very thing. I mean, unless there's something here that I'm just not seeing."
He was looking to Scully for some sort of clarification, but there was little she could give. "Well, from what I could see from my visual exam, the skin was removed with considerable skill by someone using a hunting-type knife. Arteries and veins were left intact so as to prolong the period that the victim would suffer."
"Terrible way to die, for sure," he stated needlessly.
"I know," Monica said, her voice barely audible even in the relative echo of the room.
Everyone immediately turned and looked at her. Her cagey behavior wasn't fooling anyone anymore, not when she woke everyone up at close to two in the morning for a death that was five days old already. "Is there anything else, Agent Reyes?" Scully asked pointedly. "Something special that brought this case to your attention as a possible X-File?"
"No." Monica glanced at them all. "I just know I need to solve this, and I'd appreciate your help."
She held their gaze for a moment. Doggett glanced at Scully across the autopsy table and then at Stark. Reyes wasn't the kind of woman to go asking for favors, and she had already pulled them out of bed. What was the harm in at least asking a few questions?
"We'll see what we can do," he finally said. "After we all get a few more hours of sleep."
****
Stark was grateful to be out of the autopsy room, and not having to pretend like she was okay anymore. She just shuddered for a second, digging her keys out of the pocket of her jeans and figuring she could get at least another five hours of sleep before turning around and heading into the office.
"Stark," Monica said, on her heels. "I want to apologize. I had no idea..."
"Don't mention it," Stark replied. "S'not something I exactly like to admit. I just had a rough experience during an autopsy once, and looking at dead people isn't exactly pleasant for anyone, is it?"
"No." Reyes smiled slightly. "I suppose it's not."
Stark chuckled. "I'll be fine, Monica, but thank you. I'll see you in a couple of hours."
She managed to get to the elevator before she heard someone else behind her, and had to laugh at how she was never going to get out of this building and back to her bed. Of course, it was her partner, who was more than capable of sneaking up behind her. She figured it was just because they stuck together, at least until they got in the elevator and he was giving her that patented I know you're hiding something, now out with it look.
"What's this about you not sleeping? Something going on?"
"No, John, nothing's going on. It's just me." She shrugged. "It happens. I'm fine." But he was still giving her that look. "Really, it's nothing, okay?" she insisted.
"I so don't believe you."
She gave a slightly exasperated sigh. "It's just this job, okay? Some of this stuff isn't as easy to leave at the office as it was before. It sticks with me. I'm used to it by now."
"That's why you have me and Agent Scully and Agent Reyes," he reminded her.
"And Ambien," she added helpfully as the elevator dinged with its arrival and they both stepped back into the Quantico lobby. "I'll be okay, John. It's something that I have to deal with. But that's what we do, right? Life goes on."
"Yeah," he said, skeptically. "I suppose it does."
****
As it was she got more sleep than she had expected to, both because she had slept well and because the case was still in her home state. Reyes drove the three of them to the small town of Novi, Virginia, and Stark, who was in the back seat amusing herself with apple Jolly Ranchers and happy to not be leaving the country, stifled a laugh as she figured out where they were going.
"A church. This is classic," she found herself saying as Reyes pulled into the parking lot of the First Calvary Church. "Ex-cons in a church, that's irony. Also surprisingly topical."
"What do you mean?" Reyes asked, looking puzzled.
"Josh Hamilton credits his entire turnaround to finding God," Stark supplied, popping another Jolly Rancher into her mouth before she left the bag in the car and stepped out along with her colleagues. Including her partner, who just snorted at the fact she had the irreverence of mind to connect a potential X-File to her man-crush.
But the jokes all went by the wayside when they started making introductions to a detective who couldn't be bothered to keep their names straight. "There isn't a lot to investigate," Van Allen told them, seeming quite bored by the fact that they were there at all. "I mean, Victor Potts wasn't exactly one of the FBI's ten most wanted."
Doggett arched an eyebrow. "I think Agent Reyes means your insight into the way he died, Detective."
"Don't have any. But I'm sure you'd rather talk to somebody who actually gives a damn, right?" the detective replied, and before anyone could answer him, had turned away and started into the church.
"Charming, isn't he?" Stark remarked.
Monica still looked piqued. "Yeah, no kidding."
John looked at the two of them. "Hate to say it but, he probably sums up most people's feelings," he admitted, as the three of them went to catch up.
Inside the church they were finally introduced to Dr. Lisa Holland, the woman in charge of the support group that Victor Potts had belonged to. She was pretty much as Stark had expected: an overly sympathetic woman who was trying to reform the people most of society had given up on, in the same way most women thought they were going to change their boyfriends. "It's hard for the Victor Pottses of the world. Nobody cares much about them in life or in death," she told them sadly.
"Victor told the group a story about a dream he'd had," Reyes started.
"These men are haunted by their pasts. That's why they're here."
"...but this dream came true."
"Sometimes the past they want to escape won't let them," Dr. Holland said, then her face appeared to stick in thought. "There was a man. Ed. He drove Victor to group that night. He was all over Victor's case."
"You think he could have killed him?" Doggett asked, happy to seize on something that was fact and not rhetoric.
She just looked at him impassively. "I try to help these men. Some have been violent, some still are. It's not my place to judge them."
"Dr. Holland, there's justice to be served here," he reminded her. "You can't forget that."
But she just continued to look at him beatifically. "I'm sure Agent Reyes won't let me. Probably won't let anybody."
Reyes stood and offered her hand to the doctor. "Thank you for your help," she said, rising and leaving the room.
Stark and Doggett got up to follow her, but Stark saw her partner hesitate and turn back. The woman's words spoke of a greater familiarity with Monica than just having met minutes ago. He drew the conclusion in his head, "She contacted you with this case?" he asked, a little surprised.
Dr. Holland nodded. "I think the police would have given up on who murdered Victor Potts if it wasn't for her."
The two of them headed toward the front of the church, giving each other a look. "That's what don't get," Stark said. "I understand being invested in something, but what's Monica's connection to this case? Gut instinct doesn't seem like enough to me."
"I don't know, but it doesn't seem like she's gonna tell," her partner told her. "And I'm not so sure I want to find out."
****
At some point, Stark always preferred to sit down with all the evidence that she had on a case, and discuss it, either with herself or with her partner. It was a habit that Victor had impressed upon her. However, considering that they were talking about a particularly gruesome death and there was food in front of them - not Chinese food, thankfully - they'd abstained from eating until after they'd finished discussing the case. Which had consisted of going through every single ex-con in Lisa Holland's support group and looking for a reason why anyone would want to kill Victor Potts...and coming up with nothing.
Now they were sitting in a tiny hotel room in the middle of the night, poking at cold french fries and looking utterly bored. Stark was sprawled in the chair, in track pants and a faded Baltimore City Police Department T-shirt, trying to get the score for the Orioles game off ESPN. Her partner, who had ditched the dress shirt and tie a long time ago, was stretched on the couch eyeing her. "How is that comfortable?" he asked.
"I've been sitting around in chairs all day," she replied. "And you were already hogging the couch."
"I could have just moved," he retorted. There was no denying it had been a rough last few weeks for them, between the people trying to lure Mulder out of hiding and his attack of amnesia. They were trying to get back to normal, as best they could. "Maybe I should have taken that vacation Skinner suggested."
She laughed. "Yeah, and go where, and do what, John?" she replied. "I don't even remember the last vacation either of us took and even if you did go, you'd still be wondering what the hell we were doing without you. Remember that time I decided I'd go on the season-opening road trip with my brother and I ended up coming home early 'cause I missed you?"
The cell phone behind him began to ring, and he glanced over his shoulder. "Who the hell is calling me at this hour?" he asked, grabbing the phone and flicking it open. "John Doggett. What can I do for you, Dr. Holland?"
Stark shifted in the chair, arching an eyebrow as she listened to her partner processing information. She could guess by common sense that if the woman was calling at this hour it wasn't good, and she laced up her shoes, figuring they were going to be on their way out the door. That was when the sound of something else reached her ears, and eventually that of her partner's. Monica's voice.
"Dr. Holland, I'm gonna have to call you back," he said, and the both of them got up and bolted for the door to the adjoining room. "Monica?" he asked, as they both moved into the doorway to see Reyes bolt upright in bed. "What the hell are you dreaming about?"
Still slightly out of it, Reyes shook her head. "Nothing. It was a nightmare. How did you know to come in here?"
"I was on the phone," he explained. "We could hear you through the wall calling out."
Reyes glanced at the bedside clock before she looked back up at both of them. "Who were you on the phone to?" she asked.
"Dr. Lisa Holland," Doggett clarified. "That anger management group she runs, it's getting smaller. They found another body they want us to see."
When they arrived on the scene at the meat packing plant (which should have been an indicator that this wasn't going to be pretty), the police had already secured the area. Detective Van Allen was already there. More confusing was the near total darkness they found themselves in, except for the light from a few police Maglites.
"What happened to the lights?" Reyes asked as they cautiously approached the detective.
"Somebody cut 'em. Might want to watch your step. We got some blood on the floor. Not as much as you'd expect." He shone his flashlight to indicate the blood he was talking about, and then carefully moved it over the body that was hanging there.
Stark felt the cheeseburger consider coming back up, but her reaction was nowhere near as bad as Monica's. "Oh, my God," Reyes blurted, before she turned and ran. Despite John's brief effort to stop her and ask after her, she slipped past him and fled without looking back. Watching her go, if only so she didn't have to look at the body, Stark's only thought was that Reyes must have had a hell of a nightmare.
Her partner, however, was already approaching the body. Both of them pulled on latex gloves, and she moved to shadow him as he borrowed a flashlight from one of the cops and poked the dead man's cheek.
Neither of them expected him to move.
Stark may have blurted out an expletive in surprise. The look of total horror on her partner's face spoke for both of them. "Holy God, he's still alive! Somebody get in here and get him down! We need a medic in here!" he barked, seizing instant control of the situation. He looked desperately at the man in front of him. "Can you hear me? Do you understand? Who did this to you? Do you know who did this to you?"
The man said something almost incoherent, and Stark swallowed as she stepped back, along with her partner, to allow the paramedics that had been preparing for an autopsy to move in. The two of them shared a glance. "My God," her partner said again. "I don't know what he said."
Stark looked at him. "It sounded like an E sound. Eh."
"Ed." He seized upon it instantly. "Ed Kelso. The one Dr. Holland said was on Victor Potts' case before he died. We'd better find out where that guy is, right now," he stated needlessly, already turning to run.
****
"You take the front, I'll take the back," Stark suggested as they stepped from the car to the street outside Ed Kelso's residence, the police backup already on their heels. "Otherwise you're gonna have too many people in one place."
"Yeah, and you're faster if he makes a break for it," her partner concurred before he turned his attention to the police. "Two of you with me. The other two go with Agent Patrick and cover the rear."
"I'm going with you," Detective Van Allen interrupted.
Doggett gave him a look, clearly regarding him as a small-town cop trying to get his piece of the action. "I don't care where you go, I just want to get this guy before he kills somebody else," he replied.
Stark wasn't really paying attention. She was busy scaling the back gate, landing as quietly as one could under the circumstances. Flattening herself against the wall she saw that the backyard was empty, and elected to stay at the side of the house and wait and see what developed. It only took a matter of minutes before she heard a commotion and saw Ed Kelso barrel from the house. She moved in to assist, but it was completely unnecessary: her partner had already tackled Kelso to the grass.
"What part of 'stop right there' did you not understand?" he growled as he reached for his handcuffs, and while she holstered her gun, Stark couldn't help but laugh.
****
The interrogation was not going as planned. Upon being notified that Ed Kelso was in custody, Dr. Holland had insisted that she wanted to speak with him, something about getting him to open up. After Doggett and Patrick had taken their swing at him, which largely consisted of intimidating the hell out of him (admittedly easy to do when the guy was already terrified and being questioned by an ex-Marine capable of a very chilling stare), they had reluctantly consented, and had been spending the last twenty minutes outside the interview room with Reyes, listening to what must have been every self-help cliche in the book.
"This woman is like a broken record," Stark deadpanned. "Is there any excuse she won't come up with?"
"If there is I haven't found it yet," her partner replied.
Reyes looked from one to the other. It was spooky sometimes how well they agreed with one another. "Is there anything you two don't agree on?" she asked.
"My taste in music," Stark supplied.
Doggett's lips quirked. "She listens to the Spice Girls."
Reyes couldn't help but laugh a little at that, while Stark was giving her partner a look that read clearly as you just had to mention that, didn't you? She sobered immediately, however, when she saw Dr. Holland get up and exit the room, stepping out into the hallway to join them looking as placatingly serene as she always had. Doggett didn't look particularly impressed. "So what?" he asked. "He's just waiting for his lawyer? That's what he's doing?"
"He's in a bad place," Dr. Holland elaborated. "I've been there myself once or twice sitting right where he is now, not thinking you have a chance."
"Yeah?" he replied sarcastically. "You ever murdered two men?"
She shook her head. "He's four years out of prison holding down a job, showing up to work sober. Why do it? Kill a friend and a co-worker?"
"You're the one that said he was a hothead, right?" he reminded her. "Why run if you're not guilty? Bag packed to hit the road...packed with knives?"
"I don't think we're going to find the murder weapon on him," Reyes interjected.
He turned his head to look at her. "What makes you say that?"
"Because I think this man here is running from something else. I want to talk to him," she said, and before anyone could oppose her, walked into the interrogation room and sat down opposite Kelso. It all seemed pretty normal until Reyes started talking about seeing things, and looking like she was going to lose it.
"What's got her so worked up?" Stark muttered, looking at her partner.
"I don't know, but I'm putting a stop this before she screws up the whole case," he decided, opening the interrogation room door and looking at Reyes. "Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked, and when she stepped out, he gave her an even look. "You want to explain to me what you're doing in there, Agent Reyes?"
"I'm trying to make a connection."
"Hell of a way to do it," he retorted, unconvinced. "I can see this guy's defense already. 'Your honor, I was having bad dreams...seeing things. Ask Agent Reyes, she's seeing 'em, too.' Something you're not telling us?" he asked again for what must have been the half-dozenth time since she had brought the case to them.
Monica looked from him to Stark and back again. "Monica," Stark said honestly, "there's nothing you could say that is any stranger than anything we've been through." That seemed to sway the other agent, but before Reyes could reply, Detective Van Allen barged his way into the room.
"You guys about finished?" he asked roughly.
"With what?" Doggett asked.
"The suspect. He's not our man."
"What are you talking about?"
"Girlfriend vouched for him. Said they were getting hammered down at the Bent Oak from six o'clock till closing. Bartender confirms it," Van Allen replied, pushing past them to go into the interview room and tell Kelso he was being released. Reyes turned her eyes to Dr. Holland, while Doggett was still fixated on Kelso. "I know where you live, partner," he reminded the man dryly as he walked away.
Reyes answered her cell phone, and a moment later she snapped it shut. "I need to go back to Quantico," she explained. "Agent Scully says she has something I need to see."
John nodded, still bristling a little. "We'll stay here and see what else we can dig up. I don't want to let that guy out of my sight."
****
"Okay, so where are we at?" Stark asked her partner as they left the police station, after Monica had departed with assurances she would call from Quantico. "Is it safe to assume that whomever is doing this - if it's not Kelso - is targeting people from this particular anger management group? It's not a risk of a greater epidemic?"
"I think whoever did this has made their choice of victims pretty clear," he replied. "And we can't exactly go around securing protective custody for ex-cons, so we'd better go back over that list of 'em again before it gets any shorter."
"Detective Van Allen said he'd put eyes on Kelso's place," she replied. "Forensics has the knives you recovered off him but I doubt if any of them are the murder weapon. I say we go back to the hotel and start looking at other suspects. Only because there's nothing else we can do..."
Which they did, to not much avail. It was all information that they had seen the day before, and aside from checking on the whereabouts of all the ex-cons, they couldn't improve much. There was simply no way they could keep eyes on all of them at all times. Of course, that discussion reminded them that they had existing surveillance in the field, and they were just restless enough to go and check up on it. Except when they arrived outside Kelso's house, there was no one there. The house was dark but there was no surveillance unit to be found.
"What the hell is going on here?" Doggett growled, thoroughly unamused.
"So our lead detective is not only a piece of work, he's incompetent?" Stark theorized. "I don't like this guy, John. He's been in Monica's face since we got here and he seems to like it every time he can show us up."
"I bet you that's what he's trying to do right now," he replied, reaching for his cell phone as it rang. "John Doggett." He nodded a little to let Stark know it was Reyes on the phone. "Sitting outside the suspect's house wondering where the surveillance is I ordered," he explained. He spoke to Reyes a moment longer. "He may be gone. I'll call you." Snapping the phone shut, he eyed Stark. "She thinks Kelso might be in danger of becoming the next victim," he explained succintly, before he stepped out of the car, leaving her to catch up.
She followed after him, both of them taking a cursory glance around the outside of the house. There was no one there, no light and no sound. He was already on his cell phone again, trying to reach Van Allen as he moved to the door and knocked. Standing next to him, Stark saw the horrified expression on her partner's face and looked to see what had prompted it. Her stomach lurched. Without having to be told twice, she pulled her gun from its holster, clicked the safety off and moved to take a cover position as he kicked down the door, which slammed back on its hinges. Moving into the room behind him, she got her first good glimpse at the skinned corpse of Ed Kelso, the fresh blood still dripping off of him.
Averting her eyes, she snapped her phone open. "Agent Reyes? You'd better get back here now. Kelso just bought it."
They were still at the house, now a fully secured crime scene, when Reyes arrived. Stark was busy either trying to break up a fight between her partner and Detective Van Allen, or getting a piece of it, she couldn't really decide which. As it was, Doggett was fuming and Stark hadn't seen much that intimidated her more than her partner when he was actually enraged about something. "I said this house was supposed to be under a twenty-four hour watch," he pointed out to the detective, voice dripping with disgust.
"Patrolman says he wasn't gone more than five minutes."
"You see that man in there?" Doggett snapped back. "You think it takes five minutes to do that to somebody, Detective?"
"I don't know how long it takes, Agent Doggett. Only know you said watch him so he don't run."
"Which you didn't do, is the point," Stark interjected. "Along with showing a completely callous disregard for human life."
Van Allen just eyed her. "Who said there were any humans involved?" he asked.
She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She had no idea how he had decided to become a cop, let alone earned a detective's badge, something that she had worked her ass off for when she had been a cop. She had half a mind to see it taken from him. Her partner was equally as incensed, moving to give Van Allen another piece of his mind when Reyes interrupted. She was standing there holding a stack of files.
"I have something to show you."
He let his anger out in one slow breath, and then nodded back toward the house. As they moved inside, Reyes lingered by the door, passing the files to Stark, who skimmed them with a confused noise. That got her partner's attention, and he took them from her, glancing at them as he moved to the other side of the room.
"That's just a little too creepy to be coincidence," Stark admitted.
Her partner didn't look up from the documents in front of him. "This thing with the birthdays is weird, no doubt about it. Looks to me like we're dealing with a real sick puppy here."
"I don't think so," Monica replied.
"Choosing your victims because of their damn birth dates? It's the very definition of a serial killer. I think we should get the boys from Behavioral Science out on this."
"No," Reyes said, the finality in her voice causing both the other agents to look at her. "That's not what's happening here."
"It's the only thing that makes sense."
"To you."
The skepticism was clear on John's face, not to mention the confusion on Stark's, as they glanced at her. They had to hope that maybe she had finally chosen now to tip her hand on her as-yet-unfigured connection to this case. "Okay," he said, humoring her. "What do you think it is?"
"He knew he was going to die. He had a premonition of his death. Just like the first victim did."
"So how do you figure that?"
"I'm involved in this some way. I have some kind of memory of it. It's all happened before and now it's happening again."
Stark arched an eyebrow. "Like a past life?" she asked, causing Reyes to give her a look.
Her partner corrected, "You mean that it's a copycat and you have some kind of recall."
Reyes turned her attention toward Stark, whom she could see was weighing this information and more on the fence about what she was being told. "These men were born to die this way. The same way they died before."
"The same way they died before?" Doggett echoed skeptically.
"Not the men...but their souls. Their souls are murdered over and over again from one lifetime to the next. By someone who won't let them rest."
He arched an eyebrow. "So how's this happening, their souls coming back? Reincarnation?"
"It doesn't strike you that these men were all born on the dates of the previous victims' deaths?"
"Yeah, it strikes me. It strikes me that the killer is clever."
"I think what he's saying, Monica," Stark interjected, "is that as much as we'd like to believe you, there's nothing that can prove what you're suggesting is true."
Reyes glanced at her. "A rag is stuffed in his mouth. A dirty rag. Black with soot."
The two of them just stared at her for a long moment. By the time she had arrived at the house, the body had already been concealed; there was no way for her to have known that. They watched as she advanced on Kelso's corpse and looked under the sheet to prove that she was, in fact, absolutely right. "Coal dust...from a coal mine," she mused aloud.
"How did you know that?" Doggett said, still in shock.
Her eyes met his. "I don't know."
"This is insane," he started.
"John," Stark cautioned. As much as she agreed with him about most things, she couldn't deny that they were behind the theoretical eight-ball. His lead suspect was dead and Reyes had just proved she knew at least one thing. It seemed only fair - and all they had - to give Reyes a chance now that they knew why she was involved in the first place. She turned her attention to the other agent. "Monica, focus. What else do you know? What can you see?"
"You actually believe this?" Doggett asked, eyeing her, and she just looked back at him. "I believe that we don't have much else to go on, John. Let's think about this. Where's the nearest mine?"
****
It was dark by the time they arrived at the old Fitzgerald mine. Stark and Reyes had located it with a little digging, and it seemed like the next logical step in their investigation. Though they'd argued about it a little more, Stark had finally gotten her partner to come around by pointing out if he didn't trust the new theory, he did trust her. He'd asked her to trust him recently and she had; now she was asking him to return the favor, and he had reluctantly agreed.
"So what are we looking for?" he asked.
"I don't know," Reyes admitted. "But if the files are correct, there's going to be a fourth victim."
"And probably in the very near future," Stark agreed, "considering how quickly the last two have died."
The three of them carefully moved away the boards that covered the front of the mine shed, peering inside at plenty of cobwebs and dust from the last hundred or so years. "It looks like housekeeping hasn't been here in a while," her partner deadpanned.
Reyes snorted. "Who's going in?" Another glance between them figured this out, and she said, "I'll check out the mine."
As she had gone, the two partners moved their way into the mine shed, amidst the old furniture and debris. "I didn't know you started believin' in this kind of stuff," Doggett commented as they glanced around.
"Don't go taking this too far," Stark warned him. "I was weighing the evidence. One dead prime suspect and one agent who proved she knew at least one fact right. I'm not going to start coming up with conspiracy theories."
"Good, 'cause I got enough of that." He continued further into the shed, stopping only when he found a skeleton resting against the wall. "Hey, Stark, take a look at this," he said, and she came over for a closer look. He showed her the sheriff's badge still attached to the body, to say nothing of the bullet hole in the head. He reached for the gun in the dead man's hand.
"Obviously self-inflicted," Stark said, and her partner turned and glanced at her. Like it or not, Reyes' theory of there being a previous pattern was gaining more and more credence with every step.
"We'd better catch up with Agent Reyes," he suggested.
The two of them exited the mine shed and circled around to the entrance of the mine. It was easy to spot where Reyes had cracked the lock and entered. Keeping her hand on her gun just in case, Stark advanced inside, keeping astride her partner as he called for their colleague. Moving deeper inside, they found Reyes on the floor, on her hands and knees as she tried desperately to suck air into her lungs. Both of them rushed to her side.
"Agent Reyes. Are you hurt?" he asked. "Talk to me."
"He was here, wasn't he?" Stark guessed needlessly.
Monica nodded slightly. "He was here."
"Who?" Doggett asked her.
"Van Allen," she replied. "He's who's killing these men."
"Van Allen's the cop here," he protested.
"But think about it," Stark found herself saying, maybe because her dislike of the cavalier detective had suddenly been vindicated. "It makes sense. Why your surveillance never showed up. Why he kept screwing with us. He's not trying to beat us, he's trying to keep from getting caught."
Reyes looked at her with something akin to gratitude. "That's why these cases never get solved," she continued. "Every time, four murders. Every time, four bodies. Then he takes his own life so he can just start it up all over again. There's still a fourth victim, and I think I know who it is."
"Who?" Stark asked, following after Monica as she moved swiftly from the mine.
"Dr. Holland," Reyes told her. "We've got to warn her."
The other agent was already on her cell phone before they could even get into the car. Doggett didn't need any persuasion to floor it as soon as Reyes told him Dr. Holland was still at the church. They would have to hurry; now that Van Allen had confronted Reyes he had to know his time to finish his work was running out.
They roared onto the scene just in time to see Lisa Holland come tearing out the back door of the church. John pulled her into his arms and out of the way, Stark taking up a cover position as Reyes drew her weapon on Van Allen. She was just looking for a reason, and she got it when he advanced on her with the knife in his hand. She fired and dropped him in an instant. "Get the paramedics out here," Reyes said, and Stark had never heard the normally genial woman's voice sound so cold.
Van Allen laid there, staring up at them, still unbelievably smug. "You...always fail."
That was enough for Reyes, who lunged at him, grabbing him violently by the shirt. "You're not dying on me!" she snapped. "Not until you tell me what you mean!"
John stepped in to pull her off before she could do any damage, but Stark just stayed with Dr. Holland, biting her lip. She knew what it was like to be so angry, so full of hate and desperation. To need answers to something that you knew was going to change your entire life.
She'd been there before, in an alley off Monroe Street in San Diego.
****
None of them could say they weren't glad to see this particular city in their rear view mirror. Packing her bag in the hotel room she and her partner had been sharing, Stark felt her body start to reflect the toll her head and heart had taken. Her shoulders slumped as she considered not just the gruesome nature of the deaths, but the uncomfortable feelings they had stirred up inside her. She stopped packing and leaned heavily on her bed, breathing deeply.
John moved into the doorway, intending on getting his garment bag out of the closet. He saw her standing there and frowned to himself. "Stark?" he said quietly, moving into the room and settling a hand gently on her back. "You want to talk about it?"
"I don't know how much there is to talk about," she admitted. She turned to hop up onto the bed, sitting there and glancing up at him. "It's just a feeling. I understand how she feels, you know, because I've been there before. And it wasn't a time in my life that I enjoy thinking about. Just a lot of bad memories."
"That case in San Diego," he said, knowing it was one of the few that still stuck in her memory.
She nodded a little. "I was so upset when she went down," she said. "Not just because I had shot a cop but because I wanted to know why. I wanted to know what had made her decide to switch sides like that. How she could just give up on everything she had stood for for so long. Even when I confronted her again, I never got an answer that I liked." She bit her lip. "The sad thing is I at least partially understood her."
"What do you mean?"
"If I lost you, I'd probably go to pieces too." A pause, an attempt at cracking a smile. "Not psychotic, hostage-taking pieces but...pieces."
He smiled slightly at that, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. After a moment, she got up, closed her suitcase, and headed for the car. They still needed to get Monica, and they knew exactly where to find her. She was hovering outside Van Allen's room in the local ICU, and didn't even turn when they approached after checking in with the doctors on his condition.
"Doc says it's going to be touch-and-go tonight...that we should go home," he advised her. "Go on, Monica. Go on home. There's nothing you're going to learn here now."
She turned her head and looked at him. "You still won't believe it, will you? My connection to this man."
Wisely, he didn't answer. "However you did it...however you knew what you know...what matters here is you saved a woman's life," he said instead, putting a hand on her shoulder for a moment before he turned to leave.
Reyes looked past him at Stark. "You believe me, don't you?"
"I don't know what I believe, Monica," she admitted, putting her hands in her pockets. "I do know that while I don't exactly understand the paranormal? I understand human nature pretty well. And I know what it's like to feel something so strongly that you'll do whatever you have to, in order to get the answers you need. And I know...how much it hurts when you don't." She swallowed. "I don't know if I believe but I do know what you're going through. For whatever that's worth."
The other woman gave her a faint smile. "It's worth something, Stark. Thank you."
"Don't mention it," she replied. "Just let me sleep in tomorrow." And with a small smile of her own, Stark turned and walked away, moving to catch up with her partner. She wanted to go home. Somehow, though, she doubted she'd get any sleep.
She would be distracted by Marissa Haber.