by Tim Lebbon
Walsh stopped the video and looked over his shoulder at Scully. “I’ve watched it again and again, and I still don’t know what I saw. I was there, and I don’t know what I saw.”
“Any speculation?” Mulder said.
He slowly shook his head, then shrugged, then shook his head again. “I don’t know. I’m a talker, but this knocks the words right outta me.”
“You must have some thoughts or observations,” Scully said.
“Let’s get out of this van before we bake.”
Outside, they walked a few steps through the heat to the shade of an oak tree on the edge of the clearing.
“How long have you been here?” Scully asked.
“Two days.”
Mulder said, “What’s it been like so far? The house, I mean. Do you think this incident is related to your reason for coming here in the first place?”
“You mean the haunting? I don’t know if it’s related, but we have seen a lot of activity here in the last couple of days. More than usual. Objects moving around, even heavy furniture. Doors opening and closing on their own. No apparitions yet, but after what we’ve seen, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“What were you going to do with the video?” Mulder asked with a smirk.
Walsh shrugged. “I don’t know. I just didn’t want anyone else to know about it until we could find out what we had.”
“We need to see and hear all of it,” Mulder said. “I’d like to take everything you have to the local FBI office and watch it there. Can you put it all together for us?”
“Sure, I’ll box it up if you’ll tell me exactly what you want to see.”
Mulder smiled. “Everything since you got here.”
Walsh’s smile melted from his face as his eyes grew wide. “Uh, well, I’m kind of doing a show here, you know?”
“During which someone was killed,” Scully said.
“But not murdered.”
“We don’t know that,” Mulder said.
“I don’t understand,” Walsh said. “Why is the FBI involved? Shouldn’t this be handled by local law enforcement?”
“Would you like us to hand it off to the Sheriff’s Department?” Mulder said. “We’d have to tell them that you withheld evidence, though, and I don’t think they’ll—”
“Okay, okay,” Walsh said, hands raised and waggling in a gesture of surrender. “I’ll box up the tapes for you. There’s a lot of them, though. It’ll take some time.”
Mulder said, “We’ll wait inside.”
Walsh turned and went back to the van.
As they walked slowly back to the house, they spoke quietly.
“Beautifully handled, Mulder.”
“What did you think of the video?”
Scully shook her head. “I’m baffled. I’ve never seen anything like it. There’s nothing in my medical training or experience that could explain it.”
“You asked about the guy standing with her. Did you notice anything in particular?”
“Only that she was flirting with him with no subtlety whatsoever.”
“I noticed that, too. Let’s go inside and start asking questions. You want to take the object of the deceased’s flirtation, or shall I?”
“He looked uncomfortable with her. I got the feeling that uncomfortable is his natural state. He might be more at ease with a man than a woman.”
Mulder nodded. “Good thinking.” As they entered the yard, he said, “I wonder if Walsh knows they’re a family of grifters.”
“Like you said, reality is not what TV does. I doubt Mr. Walsh cares.”
* * * *
Scully first talked to Denise Milsap, Brandi’s mother. She was a gaunt woman with straight dishwater-blond hair that fell limply past her shoulders. Almost frail in appearance, Denise had come downstairs from her bedroom to talk with Scully. The gray crescents beneath her dismal brown eyes stood out against her pale skin.
“I’m terribly sorry for your loss, Mrs. Milsap,” Scully said once they were both seated on the couch. “I know this is a difficult time to answer questions, but I think it’s important we learn what caused your daughter’s death. Did she have any heart problems? Any medical problems at all?”
“She was as healthy as a horse.” Denise turned her head slowly back and forth, starting at the center of the room. “No heart problems, nothing wrong. It just... happened.”
“You weren’t present at the time, were you?”
“No. I’d already gone upstairs.”
“Do you have any idea what might have caused it? Any suspicions at all?”
Denise looked briefly at Scully with heavy-lidded eyes, then turned toward the foyer, as if to make sure they were alone. “Well... I, uh...” She lowered her head and frowned at her lap.
“Yes?”
She spoke barely above a whisper. “Some pretty scary stuff has been happening in this house.”
“Are you referring to the things that drew the TV crew here?”
“No, I... I mean—” Another quick glance around. “—since they got here.”
“What kind of scary stuff?”
Denise chewed her lower lip as she considered her answer. “Ghost stuff.”
“Wasn’t that happening before they arrived?”
Sounds of movement made both of them look toward the foyer. A tall, heavyset man entered the living room and said, “Shouldn’t you be in bed, honey?”
Scully heard Denise’s quiet gasp even though she cut it off before her husband heard it.
“Randy,” she said, standing.
“I thought you took one a them pills,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders.
Scully stood, too, and said, “I’m Agent Dana—”
“Yeah, I know. My wife can’t talk right now. She needs to lie down.”
Scully noted the resemblance to Randy’s father, although Barney Milsap had held up better at twice the age. She said, “I’m going to need to talk to everyone at some—”
“Yeah, well, we can’t talk now.” He led Denise out of the living room and toward the stairs.
Barney Milsap came around the corner and spoke to them quietly, then Randy and Denise went upstairs. Barney turned and looked sternly at Scully in the living room.
“Mr. Milsap,” she said. “I need to ask you some questions.”
* * * *
While Scully talked to members of the Milsap family, Mulder found Tony Barbieri at the kitchen sink with a woman washing dishes.
The woman was short, had brown hair cut in a bob, and wore a baggy blue shirt and olive green peasant skirt.
“Tony Barbieri?”
Tony turned around and looked at Mulder with large eyes. He couldn’t decide if Tony looked nervous, afraid, or simply uncomfortable, as Scully had said.
Showing his badge, he said, “I’m Agent Mulder, FBI. Could I have a word with you?”
“Sure.” He rinsed his hands and approached Mulder as he dried them on a dishtowel.
“Is there someplace we can go to talk?”
“Um... the back porch.” He tossed the towel onto the counter and led the way to the back door.
They stepped out onto the covered, screened-in porch, which was just as cluttered as the one in front. As Mulder turned to keep the screen door from slamming shut, he saw the woman who’d been washing dishes with Tony following them out.
“What’s your name?” he said, smiling.
She blinked at him rapidly, opened her mouth, and stared for a moment. She had a round, pale face, worried green eyes behind black-framed glasses, and she did not smile.
“Annie,” she said.
“The production assistant.”
Her eyes widened and her head pulled back slightly. “Yes. Why?”
“We were talking to Brody Walsh earlier and you came up in the conversation.”
“I... I did?”
“We’ll need to ask you some questions. But for now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with Tony alone.”
Mulder turned to Tony. “Are you two friends?”
Tony nodded. “We live in the same building. In fact, she got me this job.”
“You were standing next to Brandi Milsap when she died.”
Tony frowned, swallowed hard, then nodded once. “Yeah. We were talking.”
“What were you talking about?”
“Nothing important. Music, TV shows we like, that kind of thing.”
“When did you know something was wrong?”
His cheeks rose in a slight wince as he ran a hand back through his thick black hair. “I didn’t at first. That’s what bothers me. She was telling me about this new song she’d just heard on the radio and she was... well, she wasn’t singing it, but she was making this sound the singer makes in the song, and then... the sound changed. It was like she was panting. I thought she was still doing the singer, you know? But then her expression changed and she grabbed her chest and I knew something was wrong, that she was in some kind of pain.”
“Did she say anything?”
“Yeah. As soon as she grabbed her chest, she said, really soft, she just kind of breathed it, she said, ‘It’s hot.’ Then she... cried out.”
“Anything else?”
He shook his head and his face darkened. His eyes glistened and he seemed near tears. “Then it happened. And it... I was... I just couldn’t...”
“Was this the first time you’d talked with Brandi?”
He took a deep breath, sniffed once. “No, we’ve talked a few other times since we got here.”
“Was there a relationship developing?”
“A relationship?”
Mulder shrugged. “Were you interested in each other? Romantically?”
Tony’s cheeks became rosy and he turned away from Mulder to look through the screen at the spacious back yard. “Romantically? Well, we just met a couple of days ago.”
“It only takes a second to fall for somebody. And she was very attractive.”
“No, really. We were just talking. She was friendly; we got along. That’s all.”
“My partner and I just watched the video of the incident and we both noticed that Brandi seemed quite taken with you.”
He turned to Mulder slowly and looked at him first with confusion, then disbelief. “What makes you say that?”
“You were there. Standing right next to her. Didn’t you notice that she was flirting with you?”
“Flirting? Really?”
“How old are you, Tony?”
“I’ll be 26 in October.”
“Do you date much? Have a girlfriend?”
He looked down at a rusty old kerosene heater against the wall. “No. I don’t date and I don’t have, um... no. I’m just... I guess I’ve never been any good at that.”
Scully had been right about Tony. Discomfort was his natural state.
Mulder said, “Well, I don’t think Brandi knew that because she couldn’t keep her hands or her eyes off of you.”
Sadness passed over Tony’s face as he continued to stare down at the heater.
“Do you have any idea what might have happened to her, Tony? You were standing the closest. Did any of what happened make sense to you?”
He shook his head back and forth forcefully. “No, it didn’t. And it was the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it. No matter how hard I try.”
Mulder heard a sound behind him and turned to see a figure standing a few feet down the hall just inside the screen door. Against the light coming from the kitchen, it was no more than a silhouette. He reached out and opened the screen as the figure turned and hurried away. But he caught a glimpse of Annie’s skirt as she disappeared around the corner at the other end of the hall.
* * * *
Barney Milsap was 86 years old but he was quite sharp and regarded Scully with unveiled suspicion as they spoke in the living room. He sat on the edge of a throne-like recliner and leaned forward with elbows on the armrests. His ice-blue eyes were slightly narrowed as they looked unwaveringly into Scully’s. She seated herself at the end of the couch.
“Look, if you’re the federales,” he said, “then there probably ain’t much about me you don’t already know, so it won’t come as any surprise to know I don’t like cops. I’m just telling you up front so you’ll know. If I’m unfriendly, it ain’t personal.”
It’s probably a family tradition, Scully thought.
“I’m not here for you, Mr. Milsap. I’m simply investigating the cause of your granddaughter’s death.”
“Heart blew up.”
“Yes. Do you have any idea what might have caused that to happen?”
He slowly turned his head from side to side.
“Do you think it could be connected to the reason the TV crew is here?”
He leaned back in the chair and chewed his upper lip for a moment, fidgeted, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and fidgeted a bit more. Finally, he moved forward again and said, “I wouldn’t know.”
Milsap had something on his mind and he’d come close to saying it out loud. Scully lowered her eyes for a moment, deciding how to proceed. When she looked at him again, the old man had not moved a muscle. “Look, Mr. Milsap, if you don’t like cops, then I’m assuming you’d rather we not stick around.”
“That’s right,” he said with a single, slow nod.
“Well, if you give us the impression you’re withholding information about this case—and that is the impression you’re giving me—we’ll only stick around longer. And look closer. It would be in your best interest to tell us everything, even if it’s something you don’t think is important.”
He leaned back again, stared down at his hands for a moment, then locked his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. Looking at her again, he said, “Some... strange things have happened here in the last couple of days. Since they arrived.”
“My understanding was that strange things were happening before they arrived, and that’s why they came.”
“Yeah. But... different strange things have been happening since they got here.”
“What kind of different strange things?”
“Stuff moving around. By itself.”
“That wasn’t happening before they arrived?”
“Yeah, but... well...” He took a deep breath, then surprised her by pushing on the armrests of the chair with his big hands and getting to his feet. “You’re right. It’s probably just the same stuff, huh? Sorry. Wish I could help, but I got nothin’ to tell ya.”
Scully stood as he walked out of the living room. “We’ll talk again later today, Mr. Milsap,” she said firmly.
He stopped walking, but he did not turn around.
Scully said, “I strongly suggest you reconsider and tell me what’s on your mind.”
He stood with his back to her for a long moment, then walked through the foyer and past the stairway. As he rounded the corner to go down the hall, he passed a dark-haired young woman coming in the opposite direction. She headed for the front door and Scully heard it open, but not close.
Scully headed out of the living room to find Mulder. She took only a few steps before the young woman returned, accompanied by Walsh. She was animated and seemed angry as she spoke to him, too quietly for Scully to understand what she was saying. Walsh stopped and faced her, shushed her, and put his hands on her shoulders in an apparent attempt to calm her. Then, as Scully entered the foyer, he turned and led her up the stairs, talking to her quietly but urgently.
Scully went upstairs a moment later and followed the sound of their voices to a closed door. She could not make out their words, but the exchange was intense. Then it was silent beyond the door.
The door opened and Walsh stepped out, pausing for a moment when he saw Scully standing in the hall.
“Is something wrong?” she sai
d.
He pulled the door closed. “Annie’s sick. My production assistant. I don’t know if it’s something she ate or a bug she’s caught.”
Scully did not believe him.
Walsh said, “I’ve got those tapes boxed up for you, by the way.”
“Thank you.”
“If you can wait for me to make sure Annie’s okay, I’ll meet you at the van and hand them over.”
Scully nodded, then went back downstairs. She met Mulder in the foyer.
“Did you see a short, dark-haired woman pass through here?” he said.
“Annie?”
“That’s the one. Where’d she go?”
“She’s in a bedroom upstairs. Walsh says she’s sick, but I saw her talking to him and she didn’t look sick at all. Excited, maybe upset, but not sick.”
Mulder nodded. “She was eavesdropping on my conversation with Tony Barbieri on the back porch.”
“Any idea why?”
“No, but I intend to find out.”
Footsteps hurried down the stairs and Walsh joined them a moment later.
“Shall we go get the tapes?” he said with a smile.
“How is Annie?” Scully said.
“She’s not feeling well. She’s going to lie down for a little while.”
Mulder said, “What’s wrong with her?”
“I think it’s something she ate. We’ve been eating too much fast food lately. Come on, let’s go.”
He went to the front door and left the house.
Mulder and Scully exchanged a skeptical look as they followed Walsh out of the house.
* * * *
REDDING, CALIFORNIA
3:14 p.m.
On the drive to the FBI office in Redding, Mulder said, “Anything strange happen while we were apart?”
“Define strange.”
“Paranormal. Ghostly.”
“No. But the Milsaps were strange enough. Brandi’s mother and grandfather both told me that weird things have been happening in the house since the TV crew arrived. Weirder than the things that were allegedly happening before, they claim.”
“Did they get specific about these weird occurrences?”
“Objects moving around by themselves, the same things Walsh described.”
“Did they suggest that the PQ crew were causing these things to happen?”
“No, not explicitly. They seemed... intimidated.”
