by Tim Lebbon
Mulder gave her his smirking we’ve-got-a-live-one look and said, “How does the staff feel?”
Dr. Copper stopped, turned to them, tipped his head forward and looked over the top of his half-glasses. “We think it sucks. I can say that out loud now because I’m retiring at the end of next week.”
“You seem a little young to be retiring, Dr. Copper,” Scully said.
He gave her a warm smile. “That’s very sweet of you, but the truth is, if you can find a young spot anywhere on my body, I’ll have it grafted to my face. Now. You were here to see Milsap, is that right?” He turned to the two levels of square doors in the wall and opened the center one on the bottom. “This would be the talk of the internet if we hadn’t been told to sit on it.”
Mulder said, “Who told you that?”
“Your people. The FBI. They told me to lock it down tight and they’d send someone. And here you are.”
“You called them, correct?” Scully said.
“Yes. I wanted to know if they’d ever seen anything like this before.” He bent down and pulled out the drawer.
Brandi Milsap, 22 years old, was stretched out on the slab. Her head was framed by her long blonde hair and there was a hole between her breasts. It looked to Scully like an exit wound from a high-caliber weapon. Below that, the stapled autopsy incision began.
“Have you ever seen anything like this before, Dr. Copper?” Mulder said.
“Not without an entrance wound. You’d expect to find one in this woman’s back, but it’s not there.”
Mulder hunkered down beside the body for a closer look. “You’re saying this originated... inside the chest cavity?”
“I have the entire autopsy on video, you can look over everything for yourself. It’s clear to me, as crazy as it sounds, that her heart exploded. But not in any way that would be consistent with a... a natural cause of death.”
Scully said, “You’re saying her heart exploded with enough force to blow a hole through her chest?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“That seems pretty unlikely,” Scully said. “Do you have any theories as to how it might have happened?”
“Not a one,” Dr. Copper said. “I was hoping you’d have something to offer. Have you ever seen anything like this?”
“I haven’t,” Mulder said as he stood. “But Agent Scully is the M.D.”
She shook her head. “No, I haven’t. I’m still not sure what I’m seeing now.”
“Were there witnesses?” Mulder said.
The doctor nodded. “Yes, a room full of people. Brandi Milsap is the oldest of four children, two sisters and a brother. She lived with her extended family just outside of town in Bella Vista. A big old house.”
“The family was present when this happened?” Scully said.
“Some of them, along with several people from a TV show about ghosts and haunted houses.” Mulder nodded as the doctor continued. “They’ve been investigating the house because the Milsaps claim some... well, weird things have been happening.” Dr. Copper rolled his eyes.
“You seem skeptical.”
“I was. Until this. The Milsap family is... well, they’ve been in the area for a few generations and people are... wary of them.”
“I understand your hesitation, Dr. Copper, but you can speak freely. I take it this family has a bad reputation?”
“Yes. And it’s earned. They have no interest in anything legitimate or above board. They’re grifters. To the bone. People who’ve lived around here a while know to steer clear of them, but there are plenty who aren’t aware of their reputation. When they started saying their house was haunted, most people knew better than to believe them. Myself included. I figured they were bucking for some book or movie deal.” He looked down at Brandi Milsap’s body. “Now I’m not so sure. This is... bizarre. To say the least. I have no explanation for it.”
Mulder turned to his partner. “Dr. Scully? Any thoughts?”
“On violently exploding hearts? Not at the moment, no.” She turned to Dr. Copper. “I would like to see the autopsy video.”
He nodded. “Come right this way.”
* * * *
BELLA VISTA, CALIFORNIA
12:24 p.m.
Mulder drove down Dry Creek Road in Bella Vista with the air conditioner blasting. It was a hot and humid August day. They had been talking about the autopsy video since leaving the morgue.
“I assumed there would be some answer in the video,” Scully said. “Something Dr. Copper had missed or misinterpreted. But he did everything right. It was just as he described it.”
“Do you know of anything that could cause something like that?”
“Aside from a bullet, no. How much do you know about this TV show?”
“Paranormal Quest. It’s a syndicated show that follows a team of paranormal researchers as they investigate alleged hauntings, possessions, and other phenomena. The third season starts this fall. It’s a hit.”
“Are these serious researchers, or are they TV researchers?”
Mulder smirked. “Are you suggesting, Scully, that some of the things we see on television may be less than authentic?”
“Let me guess. You were a fan of the show long before this case came along.”
“Not a fan, no. If I were, I would refer to the show as ‘the PQ.’ That’s what fans call it. I’ve seen it, and other shows and so-called documentaries like it. They’re all showbiz. This one is a group of young people who travel around the country with their equipment to investigate paranormal activity. They rope ordinary people into the show, residents and locals, and proceed to scare the hell out of them.”
“Equipment?”
“You gotta have equipment, Scully. Electromagnetic field monitors, motion detectors.”
“I’m not aware of any evidence that suggests supernatural phenomenon can be detected by EMF monitors, are you?”
Mulder shook his head. “There is none. It’s all smoke and mirrors. Most people don’t know what an EMF monitor is or what it does, so they’re impressed because they’re blissfully unaware that those monitors are set off by a wide variety of things and have no way of determining the source of the fluctuations. What makes this show different from most is that we’re shown what appears to be, and what we’re told is, actual paranormal activity, and the locals are interviewed afterward. They aren’t actors, but they seem genuinely frightened and upset. And all that fear is captured by the cameras, of course, for the enjoyment of the viewing audience.”
“But you think they’re frauds?”
“I don’t know if I’d go so far as to call them frauds. They are, after all, doing a TV show. I think most people know better than to think anything they see on a TV show about ghosts is real. Reality is not what TV does. That’s why I don’t think shows like this will ever catch on. This one’s a hit, though. And very entertaining. But it’s showbiz.”
“Do you think it’s possible that they’ve... well, stumbled onto something real this time?”
“I’m guessing nobody in the cast of Paranormal Quest has ever been anywhere near an actual paranormal event, and I’m not sure they’d recognize one if they saw it. Which is why I’m so interested in their reaction to Brandi Milsap’s bizarre death. And in how much of it they got on video.”
“There’s video of the incident?” It was the first time Scully had heard anything about it.
“If they’re doing an episode about the Milsap house, they’ve got that place wired for sound and video. It seems unlikely that they missed this.”
“I don’t understand. There was nothing in the file about a video.”
“No, there wasn’t. So far, the show’s host and co-executive producer, Brody Walsh, denies that any video exists.”
“Why don’t you believe him?”
“Same reason again. They’re doing a TV show.”
* * * *
MILSAP RESIDENCE
12:32 p.m.
The Milsap house loomed at the end o
f a narrow, half-mile-long dirt road that cut off of Dry Creek. It passed through a dense patch of woods and was flanked by mounds of blackberry vines. Several cars and pickup trucks were parked in a graveled oval clearing in front, along with one white van.
The house was just as Dr. Copper had described it: big and old. Mulder got out of the car and glanced back at the trail of dust it had kicked up, then squinted in the sunlight at the house. At one time, it probably had been as well cared for as the land on which it stood. If so, those days were far in the past.
Only small segments of the house were visible through the thick tangle of trees, shrubs, and vines surrounding it. An enormous birch tree stood in the front yard, its branches drooping low. There was a plum tree, a pomegranate tree, a couple of huge oaks, and towering above the house in back was a muscular cedar. They all crowded in close, as if protecting the house, which was swallowed up in all the branches and dark shade. One side of the yard disappeared into a wall of blackberry vines and the front of the house was mostly hidden behind drapes of ivy. From what Mulder could see, it appeared to be an odd blend of Tidewater and French Colonial styles, and it was not in the best of shape.
The pale curtain in a second-story window half obscured by branches was pulled aside slightly for a moment, then dropped back into place.
A low stone wall crawling with ivy surrounded the yard. There was no gate, but the entrance opened to a narrow path that cut through two rectangles of untended grass and weeds. It ended at steps that ascended into the black cave of the covered porch.
Mulder looked at Scully across the roof of the car. “Looks pretty ripe for a haunting, doesn’t it?”
“It looks ripe for something,” she said as she closed her door.
Mulder did the same. They walked away from the car and up the path. The steps creaked beneath them, and they crossed the broad, cluttered porch to the front door. Mulder knocked, then they removed their badges from their pockets and prepared to show them.
Voices inside stopped abruptly and heavy footsteps approached before the door was pulled open. A large man stood just inside the doorway—tall, with broad shoulders and a barrel chest. An explosion of wild white hair rose from above his long forehead and fanned around his narrow face, which was lined with wrinkles like razor-slashes. Bushy gray eyebrows huddled low and close over his deep-set eyes. He wore a white T-shirt with what looked like two spaghetti sauce stains on the front, and denim overalls.
“Help you?” he said in a suspicious voice made of crushed stones.
Mulder recognized him from photographs: Barney Milsap, the patriarch of the clan.
They raised their badges and Mulder said, “FBI. I’m Agent Fox Mulder, this is Agent Dana Scully. I’m sorry to come at a time like this. I know you’ve experienced a terrible loss. But we’d like to ask you a few questions about the death of Brandi Milsap. I believe she was your granddaughter, Mr. Milsap?”
For a moment, Mulder thought the old man was going to slam the door in their faces. Then the wrinkled face slowly relaxed into an expression of disdainful resignation. He took a couple of heavy steps backward and gestured for them to come inside.
As Mulder had suspected, there were cameras and lights everywhere. It looked as much like a set in a studio as a private home. It was crowded inside, but he had no trouble telling the Milsaps from the PQ crew. All of the Milsaps looked at him and Scully with quiet suspicion or hostility or both.
Introductions were made and Mulder took quick mental notes of names and faces. But he focused his attention on one face and made his way through the group to Brody Walsh. He was a frat boy type, but at 33, that was all performance and image. He was a shrewd producer, businessman, and showman with two other cheaply produced but highly successful syndicated TV shows to his credit. His blond hair was cut short and his skin was nicely tanned.
“Is there someplace quiet where we can talk?” Mulder said.
They went to the laundry room.
“This is a hell of a thing, huh?” Walsh said grimly, frowning.
“It is, yes. How much of it did you capture on video?”
“Oh, I already told the police we didn’t get any of — “
“I know, but, see... I’m not the police.”
“The equipment was put away by then and nothing was turned on when it happened.”
“Then you haven’t been entirely honest with your audience.”
“Audience?”
Mulder smiled. “It’s in the introduction to every episode. ‘In the course of investigating a house, the Paranormal Quest team monitors every room, from every angle, non-stop, for the duration of the investigation.’ I guess... that’s not true.”
“You watch the show?” Walsh said with a smile, but that dropped away quickly. “No, wait, I’m not saying that’s not true, it’s just that, well, we have to give families a little privacy, you know what I’m saying?”
“It’s either true or it’s not.”
His eyes widened slightly. “Am I in some kind of trouble?”
“That depends. If there’s no video, then I’m sure your fans will be disappointed to learn you haven’t been entirely honest with them in your introduction. They’ll probably get over it. But if you’re withholding evidence which you plan to incorporate into your TV show, you’ll be going away for a while, Brody.”
Walsh leaned back stiffly against the dryer.
“On the other hand, if, say, between the time that you spoke with the police yesterday and our arrival today, you discovered that some of your equipment had been running and happened to catch—”
“That’s exactly what happened,” Walsh said, smiling as his posture relaxed. “Yes, it was earlier today that we found it. That’s exactly what happened.”
Mulder returned the smile.
* * * *
“This is a modified security van,” Walsh said as he opened the doors in the rear of the white van parked in front of the house. He continued as he went inside, “It’s the kind private investigators use, you know? Same equipment and everything.”
Scully pressed her lips tightly together when Mulder turned to her with eyebrows raised high above his eyes, wide with mock enthusiasm, as if the same equipment that private investigators used was an exciting detail. She turned away to keep from laughing.
The equipment left little room for comfort. Walsh squeezed into a seat facing a monitor and Mulder and Scully hunkered down behind him.
“What you’re going to see happened yesterday evening,” Walsh said, turning on the equipment. “We’d finished for the night and we were starting to break up and head back to the hotel.”
“No one in your crew stays at the house overnight?” Mulder said.
“Always. Sometimes we take turns, but usually it’s Annie who stays overnight. One of my production assistants, Annie Jervik. She doesn’t care much for motels and she knows the equipment.”
“She’s been staying with the Milsaps?”
“Yes. We need somebody there to keep an eye on the equipment, make sure it’s functioning. The cameras are motion activated, very sensitive, and all the microphones are sound activated. Drop a dime on the carpet and they’ll catch it.”
The monitor’s screen glowed with a frozen gray image.
Walsh said, “We were all in the dining room saying our goodnights, when I heard... I didn’t know what it was at first, a laugh, a yelp of surprise. It was Brandi at the other end of the room, clutching her chest. There are three cameras in the room, but this is the best angle by far.”
He hit a button and the figures in the dining room, shot at a downward angle from above, began to move and talk around the remains of an impromptu buffet on the dining table. A few of them held paper plates with some food left on them. There were about a dozen people in the long, rectangular room, but Scully’s eyes went to Brandi Milsap standing at the far end of the table.
She was tall, slender, shapely, and her spun-gold hair fell past her shoulders. She wore a snug, low-cut, red t
ank top and denim Daisy Dukes that made her look like she was auditioning for a part in something on Cinemax.
She held a paper plate with a plastic fork and a few pieces of watermelon rind on it as she talked to a young man Scully assumed to be with the TV crew. He was tall, handsome, with black hair and nice blue eyes, but he gave the impression that he did not know it. His gray pullover shirt and black jeans were too big for him and he looked uncomfortable, not only in the Milsap house, but in his own skin.
“Who is that with her?” Scully asked.
“One of my camera guys, Tony Barbieri. I think she had a crush on him.”
Brandi stood close, facing Tony, but she leaned even closer to say something, and as she did, she tugged on the collar of his shirt. He laughed at whatever she said.
“We’ll need to hear the sound, too,” Scully said.
“From each microphone,” Mulder added, never taking his eyes from the screen. “And we’ll need to see video from each camera.”
“Yeah, sure, we can do that,” Walsh said. “But for now...” He turned up the volume.
They heard a murmur of conversation, occasionally interrupted by laughter.
Brandi touched Tony’s chin with her fingertip as she said something, and they both laughed. She stopped abruptly and her smile quickly changed to a look of confusion and distress. She said something inaudible to Tony, put her left hand to the bare flesh in the deep scoop neck of her tank top, and her long fingers curled into a fist. She cried out as the paper plate fell from her other hand and she staggered forward, clutching the back of the chair at the end of the dining table.
The microphone picked up a thick popping sound as the center of her chest blew outward behind her hand, spattering the table with red, and she dropped to the floor and out of sight.
It was so sudden and over so quickly that Scully could not yet be sure of what she’d seen.
The young man who’d been talking to Brandi bent down behind the table and chair, but only for a moment. He stood upright again, shouting, “Oh, god!”
Everyone rushed to that end of the table and there were a few screams.
