Disclaimer: I changed the state they were in from Colorado to Washington. In case anyone notices lol. I own nothing. Enjoy!
The next night Dean returned to the diner. He'd been doing research all day trying to put a match to the description Emma had told him. He'd narrowed it down to two cases.
Matilda Ansley, a woman in her mid-thirties who died in a car crash on that road. But there was nothing about a semi-truck or missing case, so that didn't really fit the motive.
And Delilah Smith, a woman in her mid-twenties who was last seen walking along this strip of road. There was no further information on her death, except that she was found lifeless on the side of the road a mile or so from the truck stop.
Delilah was his best case, though he had to be sure. He decided he would ask Emma if there were any told legends or stories about the disappearances.
Speaking of, Emma approached him at the bar, a smile on her face. "Back again."
"Steal any more cars today?" Dean asked with a smirk.
Emma chuckled, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. "Same as yesterday?" she asked, ignoring his jest.
Dean nodded, "And after some pie. I heard you guys had the best!"
"We do," she giggled, "which kind would you like?"
"Hmm, got any pumpkin?"
She shook her head, "That's the only kind we do not have. Sorry pal."
Dean groaned, "Give me whatever your favorite is, then."
As Dean ate, Emma hung around and they talked. Just as the motel manager had said, the bar really wasn't all that busy from what Dean had seen so far.
"So what are you in Washington for?" Dean asked. "Going to college somewhere or something?"
Emma shrugged. "Nope. I don't really like staying in one place for very long. I've actually been thinking about moving on down to Oregon next whenever I'm sick of this place. Maybe make my way down to California or something. What about you, Mr. Free-Lance Detective? You from around here?"
Dean chuckled, "Nope. I'm a traveler as well. Never in one spot for more than a month or so. That's pretty much how it's been my entire life. On the road with my dad and little brother. Now I'm on my own, working cases and solving mysteries."
As they talked about some of the places they'd lived in, Dean learned quite a bit about the strange woman in front of him.
Emma had just finished a story about how she ended up in Colorado, having had to flee from a job at a grocery store when she decked her manager for one sly remark too many. He'd been a thug and an awful manager, hitting on most of the cashiers and taking credit for most of the work the assistant tried to manage. Emma had caught him trying to make an unwanted move on one of her fellow cashiers and she intervened. When he pushed Emma backwards and tried to grab her coworker, he called Emma a few choice words and degraded her. Well, Emma had swung hard enough to knock her manager out on his back. She didn't stick around long enough to find out what had happened after that. Dean had chuckled at her story, impressed.
"So where are you from originally?" Emma asked.
He cleared his throat, "Lawrence, Kansas. But I haven't been there since I was like 4 years old. I don't plan on going back either."
Emma's brow creased, "Why not?"
"Just, a lot of bad memories I'd rather not relive," Dean replied with a shrug. Emma nodded understandingly.
The diner was starting to clear out as the late night began to set in. Emma looked out the window and she tensed. Dean was good at reading people's body language, so he noticed the slight change in expression. He looked out the window and noticed that a thick fog was coming in.
"Is that how it looked the night the trucks disappeared?" Dean asked, reading her mind.
She nodded, "How did you know?"
"Mind if I stay and see what happens?"
"Really?" Emma asked. "You really are into this case, huh? Do you think you'll catch whoever is stealing the trucks?"
Dean shrugged, "Couldn't hurt to try."
They spent the next couple of hours talking, occupying a small table away from the group of truckers crowded around the jukebox and pool table.
"I told you where I was from, what about you? Originally, that is."
Emma moved her mug of hot cocoa nervously between her hands. He noticed that she added a sprinkle of, what seemed to be, cinnamon. Not that he drank a lot of cocoa, but he'd never seen anyone add anything besides marshmallows to their cocoa. He thought it was very endearing, and it made him smile.
"Maine. Just this place in the middle of nowhere," she replied.
Dean rose an eye brow, "You ever been back?"
"No. Not sure I want to."
Dean knew that reply and that tone in her voice. "Why not? Something happen?"
Emma cleared her throat and looked down at her hands wrapped around her mug. "That's where I was left alone."
"Left? What do you mean?"
She bit her lip and continued to avoid eye contact. "My parents. They, um – they died. Car accident."
Dean watched as she talked, studying her tone and gestures. "Bullshit."
Emma, surprised by his reaction, opened her mouth to reply. But Dean held up his hand.
"You're not the only one who's good at knowing when someone's lying. I've gotten pretty good at finding people's tells. I've won a lot of money that way."
Emma scoffed, "I'm not lying! How can you say that?"
Dean shook his head. "Listen, I don't know why, but you're lying. I know what it looks like to have a parent die. My mom died when I was four. That's why we left Kansas; that's partly why I haven't been back."
Emma started to protest, but stopped. She sighed deeply. "Fine. They didn't die. They abandoned me. Just left newborn Baby Emma on the side of a road in Maine." Dean's face dropped and he tried to apologize, but Emma held up her hand to stop him. "Please, it's ok. I don't need your sympathy. I've been in the foster system my entire life. I finally left when I turned sixteen. That's when I stole my first car and just drove. Far, far away. And I've been driving ever since."
"Good for you," Dean held up his beer and they toasted.
One of the truckers called for her attention and she briefly had to serve them another round. Then she sat back down with Dean, and he noticed that she seemed a bit less nervous after her sensitive secret was revealed. He decided to keep the rest of the conversations light. They talked about their favorite music, and Dean was impressed to hear that Emma enjoyed the same classic rock that ran through his veins. They talked about their favorite movies, activities, books. Emma even suggested a few books by Kurt Vonnegut that Dean found himself really itching to check out.
It was almost 2 am when Dean began to get a strange feeling. The kind of strange feeling you started to listen to when you'd been in his business long enough. He checked the clock and began to look outside.
"I'm going to go outside, you stay here," Dean instructed, grabbing his bag and heading outside.
He walked out the doors towards the area Emma had described the truck pulling out of. He looked back to see if any trucks were getting ready to leave. There was one.
"God, it's cold out here."
Dean spun around and saw Emma catching up to him, pulling a bright red leather jacket around her uniform.
"Emma! I told you to stay inside!"
She scoffed, "Like I have to listen to you. I can help! Remember the way I made you topple over whenever you were stealing your car back? And the story about my old manager?"
Dean huffed and rolled his eyes, now worried that he was going to have to fight some ghost and keep Emma safe. This was going to be a bitch to explain to her afterwards. He wasn't looking forward to that.
The truck driver began to fill up his truck, "You have one last chance to get back to the diner where it'll be safe." Emma only shook her head and crossed her arms. Dean rolled his eyes and reached into his bag to pull out his shot gun. Emma's eyes widened. "Don't worry, it's filled with rock salt."
"Rock salt?"
Dean pulled out his EMF and switched it on. He handed it to her, "Tell me whenever that starts to go off."
Emma took the device with a tentative hand. "What is this? A busted up Walkman?"
"Listen, this case isn't exactly a normal one," Dean explained as the truck started up. "Be alert and if you see anything strange, speak up!"
Emma was still a bit skeptic, but she nodded.
The truck began to pull away from the pump, and Dean noticed the fog began to thicken. He heard the EMF start to wail.
"What does that mean? What is this? What's going on?" Emma asked as she started to panic.
The fog grew thicker and the truck drove closer to the road. As soon as the truck came to a stop at the stop sign to turn onto the road, a spirit appeared on the road.
Without hesitating, Dean jumped in front of the truck to stop it from going forward.
Emma watched as the woman she had described the day before appeared on the road. A loud growl filled the air as the woman lunged for Dean, who rose his shot gun and waited until the woman was right in front of him. He shot her, and the woman disappeared.
Dean turned around and yelled to the truck driver to go quickly. Confused and a bit dumbfounded, the driver followed Dean's orders and pulled out onto the road as the fog began to clear.
Once he made sure the truck made it down the road safely, he walked over to where Emma stood.
"What the hell was that?" she finally said.
Dean checked to make sure that there were no more trucks that were planning to leave. If the spirit worked on such a specific schedule, she wouldn't come back that night.
"How about we go back into the diner and get some pie?" Dean motioned for them to return. She silently followed him.
When they got back into the empty diner she stood in the doorway and crossed her arms. "Ok. Explain. What was that thing and how did you know how to get rid of it?"
Dean sighed and took a seat. "It was a spirit."
She rose an eye brow, "A spirit. So what are you, some kind of ghost buster now?"
"Sort of," Dean smirked. "I'm a hunter. That's what we did, my dad, brother and I, whenever we were traveling. We hunt supernatural things. Like that spirit."
Emma scoffed, "Yeah, like I'm going to believe that. You're crazy."
"You are calling me crazy after what you just saw?"
"I don't know what I saw!"
"I told you what you saw!"
"Enough!" Emma held up her hand to stop Dean from continuing. "I've had it with your crazy nonsense. I'm not a child, I don't believe in ghost stories. I don't know what that was out there, but I know that you're dangerous and I want you to leave."
Dean sighed. He figured he would get used to this response from people whenever they found out what it was he really did, but it still frustrated him. Well, maybe this case was a little different. He didn't want Emma to think he was crazy. He wanted her to understand, to listen to him. But the chances of that were growing slim since she was kicking him out of the diner.
He looked back one last time before he walked out the door and saw an Emma who wouldn't look him in the eye. He shook his head, and left.
"curve-goddess: love this plot cant wait to see it develop" Thank you! :) I'm excited to develop it!
