Agent of Chaos (The X-Files: Origins #1)(44)

Phoebe nodded. “We need to call the police.”

Mulder’s expression clouded over. “Why?”

“Fox, if you’re right about even fifty percent of this, we have to tell the police so they’ll go to Earl Roy’s house,” she said.

“We tried that already. Twice.” Mulder’s voice rose. “There’s no way they’ll believe any of this. We have to go find him ourselves.”

The waitress scowled at them, and Phoebe gave her a fake smile. Then she turned back to Mulder. “Find him ourselves? Are you listening to yourself? Because you’re acting irrational. We’re not in DC. The police here might take this seriously, but we won’t know unless we try.”

“Let’s go.” Mulder stood up. “There’s a pay phone outside. I’ll get change.”

Phoebe went to the restroom while Mulder and Gimble walked over to the waitress. She was standing by the window to the kitchen, chatting with the cook.

“Excuse me?” Gimble asked her. “Do you have change for a dollar?”

“Sure.” She counted the coins and handed them to Gimble.

“And can you tell me where this is?” Mulder handed her the napkin with Earl Roy’s address written on it.

“What are you doing?” Gimble whispered.

Mulder ignored him.

“Are you sure you’ve got the right address?” the waitress asked. “This is in the middle of the wildlife refuge.”

“It’s right,” Mulder said, hoping it was true.

The waitress finished giving him directions just as Phoebe came out of the restroom. Mulder shoved the napkin in his pocket. “Don’t say anything,” he warned Gimble. “I only asked for directions in case we end up needing them.”

“Whatever. It’s your funeral.”

Phoebe and Gimble followed Mulder outside and across the gravel to the pay phone. He dialed 911 and angled the receiver so they could listen.

“Police, fire, or paramedics?” the 911 operator asked on the other end of the line.

“Can you connect me to the local police department?” Mulder asked. “I need to speak to a police officer.”

“You shouldn’t call 911 for that, sir.” The operator sounded annoyed. “You can call the sheriff’s office directly.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m at a pay phone and I don’t have any more change. Can you connect me this once?”

“Please hold.”

After a few moments, someone picked up. “Anne Arundel County Sheriff’s Department. Deputy Johannesen. How can I help you?”

Mulder closed his eyes. “I’m calling in a tip related to a kidnapping in Washington, DC. Sarah Lowe? She disappeared from her house four days ago. I know who took her. The man’s name is Earl Roy.”

“And you saw him take the child?” the deputy asked.

“No. But—”

“Did you see him with the child after the kidnapping?”

“No. I’ve never seen him before,” Mulder admitted.

“Do you have any evidence?”

“No. But—”

“Give us a call when you do.” The deputy hung up.

Mulder slammed the receiver into the cradle.

Phoebe touched his shoulder. “Fox?”

“I told you they wouldn’t believe me,” he snapped. “What if Sarah doesn’t have time for that? It’s been four days. If we’re right, she only has four days left. But what if we’re wrong? We don’t know what he’s doing to her. We can’t leave her there.”

Phoebe grabbed him by the shoulders. “You need to calm down.”

“We can’t leave her there.” His voice cracked.

Phoebe took his face in her hands. “She’s not Samantha. This won’t bring your sister back.”

Mulder tried to look away, but Phoebe wouldn’t let go.

“I want to hear you say it,” she said gently.

He shook his head.

“I need you to say it.”

The words wouldn’t come. He tried to slip out of her grasp, but he was trapped—cornered with no way out except through.

“I know she’s not Samantha.” His chest tightened.

Every word felt like a betrayal.

“She’s not Samantha.” Mulder raised his eyes to meet Phoebe’s. “Because I can save her.”





CHAPTER 19

Near Patuxent Wildlife Refuge

9:00 P.M.



Gimble was already in the backseat of the Gremlin and Mulder had one leg in the car when he noticed that Phoebe hadn’t moved from the pay phone.

“What’s wrong?” Mulder asked, standing behind the open car door.

“I’m not going.” Phoebe’s arms were crossed, and her tone had a finality to it that Mulder recognized. She was digging in her heels. If he didn’t change her mind fast, there would be no changing it.

“Are you mad because I asked for directions?”

“It’s not about the directions. I’m not escorting you on a suicide mission. If you’re right about Earl Roy, then he has killed at least half a dozen people.”

Mulder tilted his head to look at her. “Most girls would find that endearing.”