Agent of Chaos (The X-Files: Origins #1)(33)

No way.

Phoebe deserved better. No. She deserved the best.

And I’m not even close.

Mulder’s eyes locked on hers, and he tried to find the right words. He took a deep breath, even though he had no idea what he was going to say. “Phoebe, I—”

The doorbell rang and they both jumped.

Who’s here this early?

He cleared his throat to start again, but the doorbell rang two more times.

Phoebe sighed. “Maybe you should see who it is?”

“Right,” he said, stepping around her.

The moment was over. Whoever was at the door had probably saved him from total humiliation or losing his best friend.

Mulder opened the door, and Gimble pushed past him. “What took you so long?” he asked, unzipping his blue velour track jacket.

“How did you get here?” Mulder asked.

The Major refused to get Gimble a car. He was convinced that someone would plant a tracking device on it and use it to locate his base of operations.

“I took the bus.” Gimble strolled into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, something he couldn’t do at home without removing a bike lock. He popped the tab on an orange soda and took a swig.

“I said I’d pick you up,” Mulder reminded him.

“The Major blew a gasket when he found out I plugged in the phone upstairs. It’s only for ‘life-or-death emergencies.’” Gimble moved on to the pantry and rummaged around until he found a Hostess cherry pie. He ripped open the wrapper and took a bite. “I didn’t feel like manning the telescope all day, watching for little green men. So when he locked himself in the basement early this morning to work on his files, I wrote him a note and bailed.”

Phoebe walked into the kitchen as if everything was perfectly normal. But Mulder noticed that she didn’t look at him.

Because she cares? Or because she doesn’t?

She plucked the pastry out of Gimble’s hand. “I hate to interrupt such a nutritious breakfast, but the library opens in ten minutes. You can eat in the car.”

“Whatever you say.” Gimble flashed her a smile and headed for the front door.

Mulder hung back and caught her hand as she started to walk away. “Phoebe? Wait.”

She turned and locked eyes with him, and his stomach bottomed out.

He had to explain and make her understand. “I don’t want—”

“That’s the problem, Fox. You don’t know what you want.” She smiled enough to let him know everything was okay.

Except it wasn’t. Not for him.

“I hope you figure it out one day so you can finally be happy.” Phoebe squeezed his hand, and then she let go.

*

“We didn’t have to come here,” Phoebe said, eyeing the Gothic architecture surrounding the quad. “Georgetown isn’t the only university in DC with a library.”

“But I know this one is open to the public,” Mulder said. He remembered the detail from the campus tour he’d taken with his dad, back in October.

“Why does it seem like I’m always missing something?” Gimble asked.

“Because you are.” Phoebe flashed him a wicked smile, the tips of her blond pigtails grazing her shoulders as she walked.

“Don’t look so proud of yourself. I set myself up for that one.” Gimble ducked under the limb of a massive oak and turned to Mulder. “So what’s the story?”

“Fox’s dad wants him to go to Georgetown,” Phoebe explained, sharing another piece of information that Gimble didn’t know.

“And you’re not into it?” Gimble asked.

Mulder shrugged. “I can’t picture myself here.”

Georgetown was for guys who wanted to graduate and go into politics or law, and join country clubs. Guys like him, who wanted to travel into space or invent a teleportation device so Scotty could “beam them up,” went to schools like MIT, Berkeley, and Cornell.

“Did you decide where you’re going yet?” Mulder asked Gimble.

“The Major thinks I’m joining the air force. He writes a letter to the Air Force Academy every week. Then he folds up the letter until it’s the size of a stick of gum, hides it in the bottom of an empty cereal box, and throws the box away when he takes out the trash.”

Phoebe reached up and plucked a pink cherry blossom off a tree as she passed. “Is he confusing the garbage can with the mailbox?”

Gimble stared at his blue-and-red-striped sneakers, and his hair fell forward, shielding his face. “That would be too normal. He thinks Sergio retrieves his gum-sized letter, covered in cereal crumbs, and delivers it to the superintendent of the academy.”

“What are you going to tell your dad?” Phoebe sounded concerned.

Gimble shrugged. “Nothing until I find out if Virginia Tech or one of my backup schools offers me a scholarship. Then I’ll convince him that I’m in a program studying top secret alien technology.”

“Are you sure this is the way to the library?” Mulder asked.

The black hole that lurked in the darkness, waiting to drag him into oblivion, felt closer than usual. Based on the information he’d gathered at the public library about the other missing kids, the killer would keep Sarah Lowe alive for only four more days.

What if no one found her in time?