"Dude, you do realize the point of calling in an anonymous tip about the location of the body is that

you get the hell outta Dodge before the cops get here, right?" Dean asked.

"Just go on," Sam waved a hand at his brother without turning to look. "I'll meet you back at the

motel in a little while. I just want to make sure Rio is okay."

"You want to make sure Rio is okay?" Dean repeated. "You weren't at the bar drinking with her. That

woman could make Dad beg for mercy."

"Dean." Sam did turn that time, and rewarded his brother with a bitch face. "These guys are her

family. Gunnar had been working with her longer than just about anyone. And she lost Larry Lee less

than a week ago."

"If you get arrested, don't expect me to come bail you out." Dean said as Sam got out of the car.

Sam rolled his eyes and stepped into the shadows as the sirens grew louder.

Dean pulled away, turning the corner as the squad car pulled up at the back of the hall.

Sam watched silently, as two more police cars drove up, and officers went inside.

A pickup with the name of the event hall lettered on the door pulled up, and a man went to the door,

shouting for the police. An officer came outside and spoke to him, pulling him around the side of the

building.

Running footsteps approached, and Sam stepped out of the shadows in time to stop Rio twenty feet from

the door.

She wrapped her arms around herself and looked up at Sam with fear in her eyes.

"The building guy called, said the police called him and said there had been some trouble at the

facility and a couple of my guys were involved. Please tell me they're all right."

Sam sighed. "Rio, I'm sorry. Harley and Gunnar are dead."

"No!" she screeched, and tried to go around him to the door.

Sam caught her with an arm around the waist. "Rio, no. You don't want to see this."

He was momentarily distracted, so the fourth squad car pulled into the parking lot before he could

duck out of sight again.

"Hey!" the officer shouted. "Hold it right there!"

Sam sighed again, dropped his head, and stepped back from Rio.

The police officer approached them, and it wasn't just a cop, it was the sheriff.

"What are you two doing here?" he asked, looking from one to the other.

Rio held out her hand. "Rita Odom. I'm the promoter for Top Notch Wrestling. The building caretaker

called me, said the police called him and said there was trouble. He said a couple of my guys were

involved."

"Did you go inside?" the sheriff asked.

"No." Rio shook her head. "I just got here, and Sam was telling me what was going on."

"And how do you know what's going on?" the sheriff asked Sam.

"He's an FBI agent." Rio said. She turned to look at Sam. "I mean, you are, right? I just figured the

other guy was your partner."

Sam hesitated a moment, then nodded, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his badge, which he flashed

to both of the others.

"Okay," the sheriff folded his arms in front of him. "If you're FBI, why are you out here talking to

someone who wasn't even a witness instead of in there taking over my crime scene?"

"Because I'm undercover and I really need my name left out of the reports." Sam answered.

The sheriff just looked at him for a moment. "You tell me why the hell I have undercover FBI agents in

my county and don't know about it, and I'll think about leaving your name out of the reports."

Sam gestured with his head to the far side of the parking lot at another vehicle approached.

The sheriff nodded and followed him over, as did Rio.

"Look, we've been after the Crowley crime family for years." Sam began.

"Crowley?" the sheriff frowned. "Never heard of them."

"They've been around for more than 300 years." Sam said. "They were mostly in Great Britain until they

expanded into the US in the past twenty years or so. They've done a better job of flying under the

radar that most Italian or Sicilian crime families but they're about ten times more dangerous."

"So what did my guys have to do with the Crowleys?" Rio asked.

Sam glanced at Rio, but addressed his answer to the sheriff. "Gunnar Lawless got into debt with them.

They gave him the option of becoming an enforcer for them. The deaths that have followed the wrestling

circuit for the past few months? It's been Gunnar. The symbol that was carved into them is some

ancient Sumerian thing one of the Crowley ancestors picked up during The Crusades and brought back to

Scotland."

"How did there just happen to be people the Crowleys wanted taken out in each stop on the wrestling

tour?" the sheriff asked.

"Several of the vics seem to have no connection to the Crowleys." Sam told him. "We think at least

some of them, it was just a random kill, Crowley's way of testing Gunnar's loyalty."

"So what happened here tonight?" the sheriff asked.

"Gunnar and one of Crowley's men, a guy who called himself The Duke, took Harley from his motel room,

brought him here." Sam said. "My partner and I think Gunnar balked at killing Harley. We got here

apparently just after everything happened. Harley's hamstring was cut, so maybe Gunnar offered to

cripple him instead of kill him. We're not sure if Gunnar actually killed Harley, or if Duke did. Duke

is in there too, with a stab wound to the chest. Gunnar was mauled to death by Crowley's dogs. It was

pretty bloody."

"Dogs?" the sheriff frowned.

"You know how the Marcello crime family down in New Orleans used to feed people to their pet

alligators?" Sam asked.

The sheriff nodded, even though it was evident on his face that he had never heard that before.

"Crowley has a couple ferocious dogs that are trained to kill. He uses them when he wants to make a

point." Sam finished.

"Dogs, huh?" the sheriff shook his head. "Sounds like one mean motherfu ... oh, sorry ma'am." He cut

himself off with a nod at Rio.

She smiled sadly. "It's okay, sheriff. I've probably said worse myself."

"Have you got a description?" the sheriff asked Sam. "Suspect or his vehicle? Because a guy and a

couple of dogs won't get me much around here."

"About 5'8", sturdy build, thinning dark hair and brown eyes, English accent, very well dressed,

favors tailored suits, usually all in black, black shirt, black tie, everything." Sam rattled off.

"Looks a lot like the guy who played Badger on the tv show Firefly. The dogs are black and huge. No

vehicle description. If I didn't know better, I'd think the guy just snaps his fingers and teleports

himself from one place to another."

Another police officer approached the group. "Sheriff? You wanna come look at this before the evidence

guys start taking pictures?"

"What have we got?" the sheriff asked the newcomer.

The officer tipped his head at Sam and Rio, and waited for the sheriff to nod before he spoke. "Three

deceased. Two with stab wounds, but the third looks like some kind of animal attack."

"Tell them to give me two minutes and I'll be right there, Elroy." the sheriff said.

The other officer nodded and walked back into the building.

"Ms. Odom, where can I find you later?" the sheriff asked.

"I'm staying at the Starlight Motel, room 112." She answered.

"Agent." the sheriff held out his hand, which Sam shook. "I'll write as much of this up as anonymous

informant as I can. Some I might just have to leave off. But I appreciate knowing guys like you are

out there to keep the rest of us safe."

Sam smiled, and shook the sheriff's hand. "Just doing our part, just like you."

The sheriff started to walk away, then turned back to Sam. "Do me a favor, would you? Make sure Ms.

Odom gets back to her room safely."

"No problem." Sam nodded and waved as the sheriff did the same.

Rio slipped her hand through the crook of Sam's elbow and started walking. "You don't have any more

duties tonight, do you?

"No." Sam shook his head.

"Good." she said. "I need a drink, and I hate to drink alone."

"At your service, Ma'am," he told her with a wink.

When they reach her motel room, Sam takes his phone out of his pocket.

"Just let me send a quick text to my partner, tell him I'm okay." he said.

"Tell him not to wait up." She called over her shoulder as she picked up a bottle of bourbon and two

plastic cups.

Four hours later, Dean was pacing the room when Sam opened the door.

"Where the hell have you been?" the older brother demanded. "What do you mean, 'following up on

something'?"

Dean stopped short, took a step closer to his brother, and squinted. "Is that a bite mark?" He took a

step back, noting Sam's rumpled hair and unbuttoned overshirt. His face broke out in a grin. "Sam, you

dog."

"I was being a good FBI agent, assisting a citizen in her hour of need." Sam said with a blush.

"Rio?" Dean asked.

Sam didn't answer, just grinned and looked away, blushing further.

"Hooooly crap," Dean dragged the word out. "You got to bang the great lust of your young life. I'm

jealous, Sammy. I'm honestly jealous."

"Hey, in the djinn world you were with the El Sol Beer girl." Sam reminded him.

"That was a djinn world." Dean argued. "This is the real thing. Was it everything you ever dreamed

of?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "You realize when I crushed on her, I was like nine years old. I didn't think a

whole lot past kissing. And maybe her making me cookies or something."

"Mama issues." Dean pointed one finger at him. "That's why I keep telling you that you should hook up

with Jody Mills."

"Dean, our issues have issues." Sam huffed.

"Jody is by far the best cook we know." Dean said, stretching his arms out wide. "You could take one

for the team. Get us invited for more home cooking."

"Dean, just shut up." Sam shook his head, stuffing a shirt into his bag. "Let's just get on the road

before we have to answer any questions."

"Whatever you say, you big stud." Dean smirked at him again as he grabbed his duffle.