From: cybill@pacbell.net   
      
   XXXXXXXXXX   
   CHAPTER 5   
   XXXXXXXXXX   
      
   COUNTY JAIL   
   NEW MILFORD, CT   
   MAY 28, 1997   
   WEDNESDAY - 9:45 AM   
      
   The young man looked scared. His head was bowed as Mulder and   
   I entered the tiny room. He was sitting at the metal table, the sole   
   overhead light making him glow a sickly yellow color. From the   
   looks of it, the New Milford police were going for the vintage,   
   interrogation room look that you see in so many dated cop   
   programs.   
      
   There was only one chair sitting across from the perpetrator.   
   Because I was to play the bad cop, I had taken up a position   
   against the far wall. I opened the buttons holding my blazer closed   
   and crossed my arms high against my chest. It would leave an open   
   space for my gun to protrude. I kicked up my right heel against the   
   back of the wall and leaned silently. I wanted the kid to know I   
   was there but not be able to see me easily.   
      
   Mulder stood next to the table and pulled the chair out. It made a   
   scraping noise against the concrete floor, mimicking the sound of   
   nails on a chalkboard. Graceson cringed at the noise. Mulder did it   
   on purpose to get the kid on edge. Mulder slapped the thick file on   
   Rebecca Stowe onto the table, casually letting the crime scene   
   photos slip out. Graceson gasped as her bloodied body came into   
   view over the slick surface.   
      
   "You look surprised," Mulder said gesturing to each photo. He   
   methodically placed each one in front of Graceson. It was creating   
   the desired affect. The guy was sweating. His hands twisted in   
   their cuffs in his lap.   
      
   "I, I don't, I didn't," the guy trailed off.   
      
   "You didn't what? You didn't rape, stab, and kill Rebecca Stowe?"   
   Mulder said with a hint of sarcasm.   
      
   "I didn't mean ... I loved her!" the guy practically yelled.   
      
   "Well spit it out already. You loved her?" Mulder played into the   
   guy's twisted mind perfectly.   
      
   "I didn't mean to kill her! I loved her. I loved her so much! Johnny   
   didn't deserve her. No one did!"   
      
   Mulder pulled out one of the most gruesome of the crime scene   
   photos. The one that showed Rebecca's face in unbelievable pain   
   and her body laid open, stab wounds everywhere. The girl's hair   
   was matted against her scull, red and brown with dried blood.   
      
   "Oh God, oh God, why?" The guy started crying now.  He looked   
   more like a boy than a young man.   
      
   "You tell me, Ronnie. Why did you do that to Rebecca if you loved   
   her the way you said you do?" he asked softly.   
      
   "Because, I couldn't stop myself! She wouldn't see that I was so   
   much better for her than Johnny. I loved her more than he ever   
   could!"   
      
   "Did you ever do drugs, Ron?"   
      
   "What? No! I swear. I don't know what happened. It was like I   
   wasn't myself. I was so full of lust and rage. I know it sounds   
   stupid and lame, but I literally couldn't control myself."   
      
   'Damn, that sounded familiar,' I thought. Only I hadn't killed   
   anyone. I'd merely lost my mind and fucked my partner.   
      
   My thoughts shifted toward Mulder as he stared Ron down,   
   planning his next move. I looked at the way his body sat in the   
   stiff metal chair. He was so big, so masculine. Every inch of him   
   oozed sex appeal; from the tip of his shiny Kenneth Cole's, up his   
   lean runner's legs, over his tight ass, along his muscled chest,   
   against his long silky neck, all the way to the top of his thick   
   mane of hair. Damn, he was a gorgeous man.   
      
   I had that man. Boy, did I have him. Just the thought of his thick   
   cock within me brought goose bumps to my flesh. 'Did it get hot in   
   here or is it just me?' I wondered. 'Shit. Focus on the case, Dana,   
   I chastised myself. Mulder shuffled through the photos, as I looked   
   my fill at his long fingers. Oh, those fingers. The things his   
   strong hands had done to me last night. Jesus. 'Damn it, Dana, cut   
   it out, I groaned internally.  Once again I tried to focus on the   
   here and now of the case.   
      
   Mulder looked over at me. I could see that he had noticed my   
   quickened breath and heaving chest. It felt like I couldn't get   
   enough air in the tiny room. He stared at me for a moment. I think   
   he may have forgotten what we were doing here. His gaze moved   
   from my face down to my breasts.   
      
   I felt as though he was undressing me with his eyes. 'What the hell   
   is going on here?' I asked myself.   
      
   He shifted in his chair, his body pointed towards me. He looked   
   over at Graceson. Ron wasn't paying attention. He was looking at   
   the photos and stroking Rebecca's face while chanting over and   
   over again, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."   
      
   Mulder's eyes made it back to mine and one of his hands gripped   
   his thigh reflexively.   
      
   I looked up his thigh and noticed the unmistakable bulge tenting   
   his slacks. Jesus, not again. He made sure I noticed his discomfort   
   when he abruptly crossed his legs, hiding his desire.   
      
   I just about whimpered. All right, enough was enough. We had to   
   get through the interview and out of here before we did something   
   inappropriate.   
      
   "Did you know Christina Fuller?" I asked. The boy's head didn't   
   lift from the picture of Rebecca.   
      
   "Who?" he asked through his tears.   
      
   "Christina Fuller," I said, using my tough-as-nails tone.   
      
   He looked over at me. "The name's familiar." He looked away as if   
   he was thinking of something. "Yeah, I knew a lady with the last   
   name Fuller. She's a doctor."   
      
   I nodded for him to continue.   
      
   "I think she delivered my baby sister a few years ago."   
      
   "Yes, that's her. You know her then?"   
      
   "Kinda. Not really. I went with my Mom to the hospital when she   
   delivered Megan. Dad left us before Mom had Meggie, and I was   
   the only one there for her."   
      
   "Where were you three days after you killed Rebecca?" Mulder   
   chimed in.   
      
   "Hiding, man. I didn't know what to do. I don't know what came   
   over me. It scared the shit out of me." The boy began sobbing   
   again.   
      
   "So then, you haven't seen Dr. Fuller since your mother gave birth   
   to your sister a few years ago?" Mulder asked.   
      
   Ronald looked confused. "No, why? What the hell does this have   
   to do with my Rebecca?" He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his   
   shirt.   
      
   "Christina Fuller was killed three days after you killed Rebecca.   
   She was raped and bludgeoned to death.  That's how this involves   
   you!" I yelled him as he continued sniveling.   
      
   "What? You think? I didn't kill her! I admit to killing Rebecca but   
   I didn't have anything to do with Dr. Fuller's death! I swear to   
   God, I didn't!" He pushed back his chair and it hit the wall behind   
   him. Nowhere to run.   
      
   "Its okay, it's okay, Ronnie," Mulder said calmly. "We just have to   
   ask the questions, that's all." Mulder looked over at me with those   
   deep hazel eyes. He tipped his chin. That was my sign to back off.   
   I had done my bad cop routine. This guy hadn't had anything to do   
   with Christina's death.   
      
   Back to square one.   
      
   The rest of the interview continued, us receiving nothing more   
   from the kid. He killed his best friend's girlfriend in a lust-   
   frenzy.   
   He was remorseful but guilty as charged. Mulder was actually   
   giving the kid a break. Normally, when a man rapes and stabs a   
   girl that many times, Mulder was less coddling. There must be   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
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