Mulder sticks the baseball under her nose. "Smell that," he says. Scully delicately sniffs. "Perfume. Eau de Ball. God, this brings back a lot of memories of my sister." Dude, Mulder. Dry-cleaning bags and take-out curry bring back memories of your sister. "All day pick-up games out on the Vineyard," Mulder says, rolling the ball between his fingers. "Ride your bikes down to the beach, eat bologna sandwiches...only place you had to be on time was home for dinner. Never had to lock your doors. No modems, no faxes, no cell phones. Course, sometimes, you'd get abducted by aliens and used in hideous tests and then turned into starlight, but whatever." Scully smiles wryly. She's so young, so unhampered by thoughts of any MaybeMiraclePossiblyAlienBabies, so untroubled by the idea of being made into a slave for aliens, so innocent of the very idea of whale songs. "Mulder, if you had to do without a cell phone for two minutes you'd lapse into catatonic schizophrenia," she tells him. Oh, don't worry. He'll do that with or without a cell phone in just a few seasons. You know, more or less. Hey, he drilled holes in his skull. What would you call it? Behind them, a late-model truck bounces into the shot. Mulder tells Scully that she doesn't know him as well as she thinks she does. "My work demands that I live in a big city, but if I had to settle down, build a home, it'd be a place like this," he muses. "Or maybe in a series of cheap motels, with no one to talk to but you, while we kill time waiting for the aliens to transform us into a race of mindless, soulless drones." Scully looks around the field. "It would be like living in Mayberry," she says
Home's sheriff slides out of his truck and comes up to them, greeting them warmly. His name: Sheriff Andy Taylor. "For real?" Mulder asks. Sheriff Taylor thanks them for coming out, explaining that they've never had anything like this happen in Home before. Mulder sort of wanders off as Scully asks Sheriff Taylor if he has any suspects. The sheriff shrugs that the population of Home is only a few thousand. Everyone knows everyone else. Mulder looks thoughtfully at the Peacock house and gnaws on a sunflower seed. Scully wonders if Sheriff Taylor knows of any local women who were pregnant and now, suddenly, aren't. He shakes his head.
Mulder turns around and asks who lives in the run-down place. Sheriff Taylor says nothing. "Did you question them?" Mulder asks. Nothing. "Because they've been watching us this entire time," he says. Sheriff Taylor pulls the side of his mouth way down. "That farm belongs to the Peacock family," he says, walking over to Mulder. "Three boys now. Well, men. Guess you could call them human." Scully makes a confused face. "Their folks were in a bad car wreck and we suppose they died," Sheriff Taylor finishes. "You suppose?" she asks. Sheriff Taylor shrugs that the boys took the bodies home without letting EMS attend to them, and no one's seen Ma and Pa Peacock for ten years, so.... Scully wonders -- again -- if Sheriff Taylor has questioned the Peacock boys. Sheriff Taylor replies, "The Peacocks built that farm during the Civil War. Still has no electricity. No running water. No heat. They grow their own food, they raise their own pigs, they breed their own cows." Sheriff Taylor looks at them very pointedly. "Raise and breed their own stock, if you get my meaning," he says. Ewwwww. Mulder and Scully put on their best poker faces, and Scully points out that the Peacock farm is the closest residence to the crime scene. "They might have seen something," she says. Sheriff Taylor looks very serious. "Those boys are feeble, Agent Scully," he says. "It's sad. They wouldn't have any idea what you're talking about." Scully starts to say something about something, but Sheriff Taylor interrupts her. "Look," he says. "This town is my home. I love it. It's quiet. Peaceful. I don't even wear a gun. I've seen and heard some of the sick and horrible things that go on outside my home. At the same time, I knew we couldn't stay hidden forever -- that one day the modern world would find us, and my hometown would change forever. And when I saw it in the ground, I knew that day had come. I want to find whoever did this. But in doing so, I'd like it if the way things are around here didn't have to change." Mulder and Scully look at their feet. "I know this is iffy Bureau jurisdiction," Sheriff Taylor says, "but I didn't know where else to turn." Mulder suggests they take a look at the victim.