January 2009 – Holyoke, Colorado

Dean was chewing on the last of his bacon while Sam was looking at his laptop. Looking around, he opened a flask and poured a large shot of whiskey into his coffee before he took a sip. Then he glanced up at his brother, "Anything?"

Pretending he didn't see, Sam answered, "Possible werewolf in Seattle."

Dean didn't look at his brother, "Nothing closer?" He took another sip of his coffee.

Sam continued. "Well, in Texas, there're a couple of suspicious deaths – possibly spirit related."

Dean shook his head, "Salt and burn? We can hit that when we're in the neighborhood." Just then Dean's phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hi, Dean."

Dean pulled the phone away from his ear to look at the caller ID, "Lane?"

Sam looked up in surprise, but then went back to his research. They'd only been in contact with the girl a couple of times in the last three months.

"Yeah. You guys working on anything?"

"We're looking."

"See anything in Indiana?"

Dean snapped his fingers for Sam's attention. Sam looked up and Dean mouthed the word, 'Indiana'. On the phone he asked, "What ya got?"

Three people died in accidents within three months in a tiny, very poor farm community called Piedmont.

"Winter in Indiana, people have accidents every day, Lane. It could be coincidence. What makes this one special?"

"All of the accidents involved the cars flipping exactly eight times. The victims were the Sheriff, the Mayor and then his wife. The accidents all happened on the same patch of road."

Dean nodded, "Right, not a coincidence. What are you thinking? Vengeful spirit?"

"My gut says Witch."

"Okay, I'll have Sam look into it. Thanks." He paused for a moment, "Hey, say hello to everyone."

"I will.

"By the way, why did you call us?"

"Well, I know that Sam usually finds your hunts, but the nearest hunters are on their way west for something. Meanwhile, I know someone in Texas, someone up in Maine, and someone in Florida, so right now you're it for the Midwest.

"Well, more West than Midwest, but we'll look into it. Sam says there's a ghost in Texas and a possible werewolf in Seattle. Have you seen those yet?"

"I think the Seattle thing is being handled by two of the Morrison brothers. They're the ones I would have called for this, actually."

"I've heard of them, they're okay. You want me to have Sam send you the info for the Texas thing?"

Yeah, I'll get my guy on it. He's a bit of an idiot, but he gets the job done. She paused for a moment, "Stay safe. Witches are bitches." She laughed.

Dean winced, "Oh, Lane, I'll get you for that." He hung up. Looking up at his brother, he asked, "Dude, how'd she find that before you? I thought you were the master!"

Sam didn't look up, but he did kick his brother under the table. "Well now, except for the time zone shit… she must search East to West. I would have found it in a bit."

"Wait a minute? You're saying you search West to East? You search in a specific direction? Every time?" Dean just shook his head, "Geek." He muttered under his breath.

Sam just nodded, "I start a search in the region we're in, but obviously Indiana isn't in this region. So when I didn't find anything interesting here, I started looking on the West Coast." He shrugged, "Habit." He never looked up, he had found what Lane was talking about and was reading some of the reports. After he finished reading the reports, he emailed the other information to Lane. Finally, he closed his laptop and shoved it into his satchel and stood up. "Let's go."

Surprised, Dean grabbed a last sip of his coffee and then stood up. He threw some money on the table, "We in a hurry?"

Sam exited the diner, but didn't look back, "Yup, places to go; people to save. I'll drive first."

"What? Why?" Dean stopped on the sidewalk, genuinely perplexed.

Expressionless, Sam looked over at his brother from the driver's side of the car, "Two words, 'Irish Coffee'."

Not saying anything, Dean nodded and tossed his brother the keys.

As he got into the car, Dean asked, "Do you think she's right? Is it a witch?"

"I don't know, could be. Could be a spirit… could be anything." Sam's expression wasn't hard to read, he was irritated.

"Dude, really? Are you pissed because she found it first?"

"What? No!"

Dean smirked, "Sure."

"I would have found it…" Sam muttered under his breath, "Eventually." He started the car and drove off.

Sam and Dean came into the small town in the dead of night and located the only motel around for several miles. They found that this motel was less skeevy than usual and didn't cost much more. It was a pleasant surprise. They got to their room and crashed on the beds without pause.

The next morning Sam woke up first. He looked over at his brother and saw an open bottle of Jack and a half empty glass on the table beside him. It hadn't been there the night before. Something woke Dean up in the middle of the night and he'd had a few before he'd been able to get back to sleep. Sam sighed, he wished Dean had woken him up and decided to leave him alone as long as he could before waking him. Later, after they ate breakfast, Sam and Dean went to the Sheriff's Department to talk to whoever was in charge.

The sheriff's office was a large room divided into a public side and the work side by a high counter. The walls, which were painted with a sort of dull, generic beige, were decorated with pictures of bad guys along with scenic pictures of state parks and national monuments. The pictures looked like they had been torn from a calendar. Filing cabinets lined the walls and on the back wall was the sheriff's private office. The door was closed and the office window blinds were pulled down and shut.

As they stood there, glancing around, a young deputy came up to the counter. "May I help you?"

Simultaneously, Sam and Dean pulled the credentials they had created on the drive from Colorado out of their pockets. Showing them to the deputy, Sam answered, "We're Detectives Manners and Gamble, from the Indiana State Troopers Office of Special Investigations. We're here about the car accidents on County Road 30."

The deputy looked confused, "I don't understand. Why would Special Investigations be on this?"

"We're just looking into it. Since it's a county road and since the sheriff was one of the victims, our boss thought we should have a look." Sam smiled in an ingratiating manner, "We'll most likely forward the report on to INDOT and call it a day."

Dean smiled at the deputy as well. "Can we see the reports of the three accidents?"

"Four"

"I'm sorry?"

"Well, there were four accidents on that road."

"Of course, I meant four." He looked at Sam, "What'd I say?" Dean shook his head, still smiling. "Could we see the four reports?"

The deputy looked reluctant, but nodded, "Yeah, sure." He moved over to a filing cabinet and pulled one file after another out of it. Then he returned and put them on the counter in front of the Winchesters. He pointed to a desk over in the corner, "You can use that desk." He pulled open a little hinged door and gestured them in.

Dean picked up the files and they moved over to the desk and pulled up chairs.

The deputy followed them. Quietly, he said, "Listen, when you're looking at the files, keep Sheriff Williams' file covered. Becky, over there gets teary whenever she sees it." He nodded his head in the direction of the young woman whose desk was right outside the sheriff's private office.

Sam looked at the girl in question, and nodded, a pitying look on his face, "Sure, no problem."

Dean picked up the file that had the oldest date on it and opened it up. The report was clear and well written; three girls, one casualty. The deputy allowed them to make copies of the written reports and they were out of the office within 45 minutes.

Dean looked at his watch. It was too early for lunch. He glanced around as they walked over to the car. "I'm starved. I need a snack."

Sam scoffed as he got into the passenger side. "If you'd had a better breakfast…"

"What is better than donuts and coffee? I'd like to know!"

"Just about anything," Sam smirked, "Fruit, granola, fibre cereal, yogurt, egg whites, bran muffins…

"Jeesh, you just listed everything I don't eat."

"Wouldn't kill you to try it." Sam was still looking at the reports of the first accident. The pictures had been bad and he was thankful that he didn't have to look at them again. The girl in the back seat had been covered with blood.

"It might." Dean glanced at him as he started the car.

When they got back to their room, they spread out the reports and Sam tapped his finger on the first accident report. "This is probably the key – Jenna Abraham. She died at the scene while they were trying to extract her; 17 years old." Sam sat down and opened the laptop to start hacking into the high school database.

Dean looked upset, "Damn."

Sam nodded; he glanced up at his brother. "You saw that the driver of the car was Susan Milhouse?"

Dean nodded, "The same name as the mayor and the Mrs." He picked up their reports and reread them.

Sam nodded, "The other passenger was Pamela Walliams. According to the report she was unconscious at the scene and was transported by Lifeflight to a regional Level 1 trauma centre."

"What happened with Susan?"

Sam shrugged, "Report doesn't list her injuries; just said she was transferred to the local hospital." While they had been talking, Sam had been typing on the computer and cracked the high school database. Using a search, he located Jenna Abraham on several pages. "Jenna was a typical teen, A-B student, cheerleader, on the debate team." He typed some more, "Susan Milhouse, average student, cheerleader captain." Again he typed for a moment and was looking at Pamela Walliams' information. He sat back and looked at Dean, "Pamela was an Honours student, she was ranked #1 in grade point average, She was a cheerleader, on the debate team, and starred in the high school musical."

"So, she's the female you. What was her condition after the accident?"

Sam started to type some more and within minutes was in the database for the hospital where Pamela had been transported. He read for a few minutes, and said, "Shit. She was in a coma for about two weeks. Then she was in the hospital for nearly a month before she was transferred to a rehabilitation facility." Sam looked at his brother, "She has traumatic brain injury and she'll never recover."

Dean closed his eyes, "god!" If something like this had happened to Sam… He paused for a moment, "That's also an excellent motive. So… we need to look into the families and friends of Jenna and Pamela."

"We also need a look at the cars. This is probably a witch like Lane said, but we should get confirmation. Vengeful spirit could be at work, too." Sam started the search for both girls to see if he could get their histories.

Dean stood up and pointed to the laptop, "You check out the families and I'll go have a look at the cars." Dean checked his pocket to confirm his fake ID and picked up his keys. He stepped to the door and paused, "Hey, two questions…" He held up a finger, "Why was the sheriff targeted?"

Sam looked at his brother and shrugged, "I'll see what I can find out." He started to go back to the computer when Dean held up a second finger and asked, "Why didn't you know there were four accidents?"

Sam held up a single finger of his own in response. Smirking, Dean left. Sam went back to the computer and started to research the two girls. Pamela showed up a few times in the newspapers archives, but Jenna's history was more interesting.

Sam did research for the next couple of hours when his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and pressed a button to answer it, he said, "Yeah?"

"It's definitely a witch." Dean was walking away from the junk yard where all four vehicles had ended up. "But it's weird."

"How so?" Sam leaned back in his chair, stretching.

Dean got into The Impala and started the engine, "I didn't even have to look hard to find the hex bags. And whoever it is had plenty of time to get them out before I found them; these cars have been here for awhile and there's practically no security."

"Do you have them with you?"

"Yeah, but I'm only gonna drive until I'm out of sight of the scrap yard, then I'll pull over and burn 'em."

"Okay, be careful; those things still might have some punch."

"I will, mom"

Sam scoffed and continued, "What you said ties in a bit to what I found. I think we were right from the beginning; whoever did this belongs to Jenna. I found out she was the subject of a bad custody battle when she was five years old."

"Her parents?"

"No, no sign of a father, but her mother died when she was five and the battle was between the mother's parents and the woman mom named as guardian. The grandparents won."

"Who's the woman mom wanted?" Dean looked in the rearview mirror and then pulled over to the side of the road. There was a lot of gravel so he had space to burn the damned things without taking out the copse of trees on his right.

"Woman's name is Maeve Giese." Sam picked up a cup of coffee and took a sip, wincing because it was cold, he continued, "Get this, she owns a shop that sells incense, crystals, and other interesting stuff. She also has a website called 'www dot thewisewoman dot com'." He got up to get more coffee and continued, "Anyway, Maeve finally won visitation rights when Jenna was about eight."

While they were talking, Dean carefully burned the three bags he found and got back into the car. "D'you think she's a white witch?"

"Don't know, she could be, but white witches don't usually kill people."

"Mayb... I think we need to have a chat with Maeve." He pulled back onto the road and started to look for someplace to pick up some food. "I'm picking up lunch; what'd you want?"

Sam gave Dean his order and they hung up.

Finally Dean found a diner and pulled into the parking lot. It was lunchtime and the lot was full, but he found a spot. He parked and got out of the car.

When Dean got back to the hotel room, Sam was still on the computer doing research. Dean set the bags of food on the table and they started to eat.

Pausing, Sam said, "So I was doing some more research and looked into the grandparents and the judge in the original custody case."

"They alive?" Dean spoke with a mouth full of french fries.

Sam nodded, "The grandparents suffered a financial set-back about two months ago and are looking at complete bankruptcy now. The judge was disbarred in 1997 for multiple DUIs and is now indigent."

"You found this on the internet?"

Sam nodded, "Facebook. Some of the folks in this town didn't bother to put up security. Anyone can get their information." He smiled innocently.

"What the hell is Facebook?"

"It's similar to My Space."

"You never explained that one, either."

AN1: There is no web site called 'www dot thewisewoman dot com'. There is one called 'www dot thewisewoman dot org', though. My fake website is in no way connected to the real one.

AN2: Piedmont County, Indiana does not exist; Holyoke, Colorado does. Lane is from one of my other stories. Let's just say I call her a hands-off dispatcher/researcher, sort of like Bobby. (Consider this a shameless plug. ;)

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Thanks,
Sali.