Two years he'd been missing to her. What had happened in those two years? Had she been reassigned? Resigned? Fed his fish?
So it had been her that he'd seen mentioned in the journals. A few days ago, perhaps across the hallway, maybe next door. So close, and neither had known it. "I've been here a little over a month, and I don't think it's the Syndicate. They would certainly have reason enough to get us out of the way, but I don't think putting us up in a hotel in Arkansas would ensure that we are out of the way. Nor do I think they have the technology to jump time as seems to have happened." He shook his head, looking around for a sign of where he was.
"Something else is going on here, Scully. I've talked to someone that's from the early to mid 70's, from England. And didn't seem the type that would cause the Syndicate any trouble."
Ah, there was the sign. "Fairmount and Howell, and trying to get back to the hotel. Bus driver didn't want to break a twenty, and commandeering mass transit seems a bit of overkill."