sa.earthlink.net> 60a5fef9   
   From: fox42@ix.netcom.com   
      
   June 10, 2007   
   TITLE:  TO DIE IN SOUTH DAKOTA (Part 2 of 2)   
   AUTHOR:   Gerry Hill   
   E-MAIL ADDRESS:   fox42@ix.netcom.com   
      
   DISCLAIMER:   Same as noted in Part 1 Introduction.   
   RATING:   R   (Violence and some nudity)   
   WARNING:   Once again, I need to caution you that this   
   story contains extremely graphic and/or disturbing content   
   and it's not for the squeamish.  Don't come crying to me if   
   you still read it and it makes you sick. :-)   
      
   ***************************   
      
   TO DIE IN SOUTH DAKOTA   (Part 2 of 2)   
   by Gerry Hill   (fox42@ix.netcom.com)   
      
      
   4:18 PM   
   Motel   
      
   Of the travelers that Mulder and Renaldi had successfully   
   contacted, no one could say they had seen or heard anything   
   unusual the previous night, nor had anyone seen Scully.   
   Some of the people they questioned weren't happy about   
   being bothered again, since the sheriff's deputies had   
   already grilled them once that day. Having gotten nowhere   
   with the motel's list, Renaldi left with the sheriff to check   
   out a lead.  They were getting together later to eat at the   
   motel's restaurant, but Mulder wasn't planning on joining   
   them.   
      
   The increasingly desperate agent had another contact to   
   make.  He was most interested in talking with the people   
   who had stayed in the room next to Scully's.  Their license   
   plate had been issued in Kalamazoo, Michigan.  The sheriff   
   called in an APB on the car, but Mulder couldn't wait   
   around for results.  He contacted the few Dracovs listed in   
   the Kalamazoo phone book and finally reached the man's   
   parents.  From them, he obtained a cell phone number and   
   at last reached the Dracovs.   
      
   It seemed the couple was house-hunting in the area prior to   
   the husband's job transfer.  They promised to return   
   immediately to the motel to talk with Mulder.   
      
   Tess and Alan Dracov drove into the motel parking lot and   
   had no trouble spotting the impatient-looking FBI agent.   
   He was pacing back and forth in front of the door to their   
   room.   
      
   They seemed a little nervous, but Mulder was used to that.   
   Most people live their whole lives without ever laying eyes   
   on an FBI agent, so being interrogated by one could be an   
   unsettling experience.   
      
   The couple sat next to each other at the end of the bed,   
   facing Mulder, who kept up his pacing.  He knew it   
   probably made them more nervous, but he was incapable of   
   sitting still.   
      
   "Can you tell me what you know about the occupant of the   
   room next to yours?"  He gestured in the direction of   
   Scully's room.   
      
   They looked at each other and then Mrs. Dracov, a   
   matronly middle-aged woman, volunteered, "She's   
   attractive, not very tall, has red hair, and she entertains men   
   in her room at night."   
      
   That last bit stopped Mulder in his tracks.  He stared at her   
   for a beat, and asked in a strained voice, "Why would you   
   say that, Mrs. Dracov?"   
      
   Another look passed between the couple, and finally she   
   admitted to being awake between one and two o'clock that   
   morning.   
      
   "The bed in her room apparently is against the same wall as   
   ours.  There was...activity going on."   
      
   Carefully, he asked, "Could the sounds you heard have   
   been those of an attack rather than what you assumed was   
   happening?"   
      
   She thought for a minute.  Her husband, a thin, balding guy,   
   shrugged at Mulder when he met his gaze.  "I slept through   
   all of it.  Sorry."   
      
   Sounding doubtful, Mrs. Dracov finally said, " Well, it   
   *could* have been an attack, I suppose.  But with the   
   headboard bumping the wall that way and the sort of moan   
   I heard, I just assumed..."   
      
   Mulder nodded like he was still with her, but his mind was   
   reeling with two other possibilities.  Could it have been a   
   rape?  There had been no evidence in her room, but that   
   didn't mean it couldn't have happened.  Or maybe Scully   
   had a boyfriend, someone he didn't know about, and she   
   decided to run off with him.  In the middle of the night.   
   Without a word.  No, that couldn't have happened, for more   
   reasons than just the fact that her suitcase had been found   
   dumped in the quarry.  But he had to consider all   
   possibilities if he expected to solve this.   
      
   After a few more questions, it was obvious that the Dracovs   
   had no further information, so he thanked them and walked   
   over to his own room.  He could use the facilities and make   
   some more phone calls before touching base with Renaldi.   
   He knew that if he let himself stop for even a minute, he'd   
   be adding a straitjacket to his wardrobe selection.   
      
   His room was dim and murky with the curtains closed, so it   
   wasn't until he was coming out of the bathroom, distracted   
   with his thoughts, that he saw the silent figure sitting in the   
   chair near the television.  For a fraction of a second his   
   heart leaped at the thought that it could be Scully, but just   
   as quickly he knew it wasn't.   
      
   "Oh, crap," he muttered, as his hand reflexively moved to   
   draw his weapon.  The reaction was abruptly halted,   
   though, when it registered on him that the figure was too   
   small to be an adult.   
      
   Mulder was pissed off.  He walked back to the door and   
   flicked the light switch, then returned to stand in front of   
   the chair that contained the eight-year old son of the   
   manager.   
      
   Words of irritation died in his throat as his gaze met the   
   wide brown eyes of the child, and he found himself asking,   
   "What's your name?"   
      
   The kid quietly replied, "Nicodemus."   
      
   Ooookay.   
      
   "How about I call you 'Nick'?"   
      
   The boy gave a barely perceptible nod.   
      
   "And your sister?  What's her name?"  Might as well get a   
   list of the cast of characters who had the free run of his   
   room.   
      
   "Doris."   
      
   Doris and Nicodemus?!  How...odd.  He'd never met   
   anyone named Doris, except for one of his mother's aunts.   
   It was very old-fashioned, he thought.  And   
   Nicodemus...He mentally ran through the meaning of   
   names he had read once in the back of a dictionary as a   
   child.  Nicodemus meant 'conqueror of the people', while   
   Doris was... 'a shining knife'.  He doubted that the parents   
   were even aware of the names' meanings, though; most   
   people weren't.   
      
   "Want to tell me why you and Doris keep visiting my room,   
   Nick?"   
      
   "Mom and Dad told us to keep an eye on you.  FBI means   
   trouble."   
      
   What the hell?  He supposed the kids had taken something   
   one of the parents had said literally.  Although why the   
   motel managers would be wary of the FBI was anyone's   
   guess.  They could be doing anything from running a   
   sleazy, hourly-room-rate type of operation to drug   
   trafficking.   
      
   "Well, how about coming to an agreement that you keep an   
   eye on me from *outside* my room from now on?"   
      
   The boy thought about that for a moment, then nodded, and   
   slid from the chair.  Mulder backed up to let him pass, and   
   breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed and he was   
   alone once more.   
      
   His cell phone startled him by ringing, seeming louder than   
   normal in the quiet room.  It was Renaldi, sounding urgent   
   and distracted at the same time.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)