Agent of Chaos (The X-Files: Origins #1)(25)

“The aliens.” Gimble sounded exasperated.

“His dad is a conspiracy theorist,” Mulder explained.

“I picked up on that. Thanks.” She craned her neck to get a better look at the Major.

“He’s more agitated than usual,” Gimble explained. “The cops found the body of a slumlord in Southwest DC. It’s all over the news. The Major is calling him victim number five, and he wants me to find out if the man was missing any bones, even though the news is reporting that he hanged himself with a telephone cord.”

“Why would your dad want to know if the man was missing bones?” Phoebe asked.

“He tracks crime and other weird stuff,” Gimble said. “A couple months back, he read an article about a woman who had been pimping out girls our age. The cops found the woman’s body in a dumpster, and her hand was missing. The Major was convinced it meant something. Then a psychiatrist committed suicide, and the Major found out the guy was missing a bone in his foot. And that’s how conspiracy theories are born.”

“What’s the theory?” Phoebe couldn’t stop herself from asking. She had a little conspiracy theorist running through her blood, too.

“Do you really want to know? Because I feel stupid saying it out aloud.” Gimble flicked his hair out of his eyes to avoid looking at her.

“Yes.” She offered Gimble a sympathetic smile. “And you shouldn’t feel stupid.”

“Say that again in a minute.” He sighed. “The Major thinks aliens are building a cyborg from a human skeleton.”

Phoebe didn’t bat an eye. “Do you think he knows the truth about Elvis?”

“Very funny.” Gimble tried to sound annoyed, but his growing crush on Phoebe won out and he couldn’t pull it off.

“She’s not kidding,” Mulder said. “She thinks Elvis is alive, hanging out in a small town somewhere, flipping burgers.”

“Hardly. The King doesn’t flip burgers. He’s in a diner making peanut butter and banana sandwiches during the day and giving kids guitar lessons on the weekends.” She waved at the Major, who responded by standing straighter. “I’d love to hear your dad’s take.”

“Gary William Winchester! Report to your senior officer immediately!” the Major roared.

“I’ll be there in a minute!” Gimble screamed so loud that someone flipped on a light in the house next door. Then he turned back to his friends. “I can’t go to the police station with you. The Major will be up all night adding junk to his stupid map and manning the telescope in case of an alien invasion.”

“It’s okay. You have to take care of your dad, and I have Phoebe to help me.” Mulder felt sorry for his friend. The Major seemed like a lot of responsibility.

“Come by if you find out anything. I won’t get any sleep tonight.” Gimble tapped on the roof of the orange car. “Good luck.”

Mulder pulled away from the curb. “We’re going to need a lot more than luck.”

*

Phoebe stopped Mulder outside the precinct door. “Forget diversion. We both go in there and say that we think we saw something the night Billy disappeared. Hopefully, one of us will get a chance to look at the case file or some notes.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mulder said as they walked in. There was a reason he always went along with Phoebe’s ideas. If she took one of those career tests that told you what kind of job you would be good at, Phoebe would get criminal mastermind.

Inside, the precinct was less intimidating than it had been the night before. Fewer people were cuffed to the desks, and nobody was standing on top of them, breaking their wrists to get out of handcuffs. Most of the cops were dressed in street clothes, with their badges hanging around their necks or clipped to their belts.

“This is way more real than I expected,” Phoebe whispered.

“Are you chickening out?”

She punched him in the arm. “No. Are you?”

A cop in uniform with gray sideburns approached them. “You need some help?”

Phoebe stepped forward without hesitating. “We’re here about Billy Christian, the boy whose body was found at Rock Creek Cemetery. We were both in the neighborhood the night he disappeared.”

“Did you see something?” The cop glanced back and forth between them.

Mulder took over. “We think so.”

“The detectives in charge of the case are off duty. Let me see who else is here.” The cop looked around and spotted a young guy with brown feathered hair, wearing jeans and a Battlestar Galactica T-shirt. “Racca, I need you to take a statement,” the cop called out to him. “These two might have information related to the Christian case.”

“I’m on my way out.” Racca sounded annoyed.

“This will just take a minute,” the older police officer said, waving him over.

“He doesn’t look old enough to be a cop,” Phoebe whispered.

Mulder was thinking the same thing.

Then Phoebe noticed the guy’s T-shirt and gritted her teeth. “Traitor.”

Mulder tried not to laugh. “Some people like both Star Trek and Battlestar Galactica.”

“It’s an either-or situation,” she said.

Officer Racca approached the other cop and gestured toward the door. “Wish I could help. But, like I said, I was just leaving.”