The boys reacted well to the news that the house they had just broken into was a relative of Rachel's. And it was only after speaking to them for a few moments about how they had read about her grandfather and found his name is their fathers journal that she was actually a little glad they were here.
When Rachel had gotten the phone call from her mother she had ignored it as usual. When she'd heard the tearful message that was left she wished she had chosen that moment to give into the ever growing urge to answer it and start healing with her family again.
The message was simple, delivered in her mothers deep toned southern drawl: "Rachel Kathleen, it's Mom honey." Rachel knew it was urgent the moment she heard her middle name. Mom never used it unless she meant business. She went on to say that her father had been killed. The police weren't sure what was going on yet but could Rachel please go to Colorado (The original home of the O'Connors and the Elkins's) and handle the details and deal with the police. Mom was very sorry to put this on her, but the ever growing death toll of her family was too much for her mother to bear.
Rachel didn't need to call back and let her mother know she would do it. Mom knew that she would.
And so here she was. She'd been here 3 days and had spoken to all the cops involved. None of them seemed to have a definite answer as to what had killed her grandfather. According to the coroner, it seemed that death was due to a major loss of blood. But they hadn't allowed her to see the body and the cops wouldn't tell her if he'd had any wounds that would warrant a bleed out.
So all of it pointed to one thing: The cops and the morgue were clueless and confused. She'd been told only 2 hours ago that they were done with Papa's cabin and that she could go in. And what does she find when she does? Sam and Dean Winchester.
At first, the sight of Dean had put a pit in her stomach. She'd almost made love to him last time she'd seen him. Like they'd wanted to for so long now. After she'd made her escape, she'd decided that the best thing to do was finally listen to herself and stay away from him. So she'd been ignoring him for weeks now. He knew that she'd been ignoring him.
The pit subsided when she realized that this moment that she'd been dreading, coming here to her grandfathers house to see where he'd been murdered, didn't have to be on her own. Dean's demeanor when they spoke in the hall made her believe that he understood that this was more important then being angry at her. What ever was going on between them would be put on the back burner for the moment to handel this. She got the air of "but don't think I forgot about it though." from him. Which was fine. She knew they would have to speak about it eventually, but for the moment she was silently thankful to him.
She was just as comforted by Sam's presents. The younger Winchester was the softer of the two. The more compassionate one, the one with more empathy. She even ventured to think that if Dean's wasn't here at all that she would probably feel comfortable enough to cry around Sam. She knew that'd he'd have a hug and some soothing words for her.
But now wasn't the time to get emotional. She'd cried in her car on the road to Colorado and she'd been crying in her bed for the last 3 nights thinking about the fact that her beloved Papa was gone. The sadness had turned to anger at this point. And she knew that it was only a matter of time, after she figured out what she was looking for, that the anger would turn to rage.
When the ghost of the little girl killed Kellie in the lake, the sadness and shock of her sisters death had quickly turned to a ferocious need to destroy the thing. Rachel had found a way not only to get rid of the spirit, but to make it suffer first.
Rachel felt that fire begin when she realized that the police where confused about her grandfathers death. That only meant one thing: Something unnatural had ended Daniel Elkin's. So the police would be no help, she would have to handle this herself.
So it was with that notion, and her's and Dean's silent temporary truce, that all three of them began moving through the cabin to find clues of what had happened to her grandfather.
Rachel led the way into the study. "It was in here that the police said the mail carrier found him." Rachel said, turning her flash light into the dark room. "The man was a friend of his. He hadn't seen him for 3 days, so he let himself in to make sure he was ok."
Rachel reached for the light switch and hesitated before flipping it. This was the room her grandfather had died in and she was about to flood it with light. Before the guys could sense her hesitation she flipped the switch.
The room, like the rest of the house so far, was a wreck. Over turned furniture torn curtains, broken glass every where. Rachel was mindful of where she stepped as she proceeded across the threshold. She was thankful that the Winchesters showed the same respect as they followed her in.
"Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one." Sam said and motioned to the skylight. Rachel looked up and saw that the whole span of it, the entire right half of the ceiling, was shattered. That explains the broken glass everywhere. Rachel thought.
"Looks like he put up a hell of a fight, too." She heard Dean say behind her.
Rachel stood in the middle of the room and took it all in. To her left she saw the only piece of furniture not broken, which was the coffee table next to the ruined couch. On the table stood a single picture frame, which Rachel picked up. In the photo in the frame she saw her 10 year old self being held tight by her grandfather. They were both smiling from ear to ear for the camera.
Oh, Papa. Rachel thought. Her heart squeezing painfully in her chest at the thought of never seeing him again. I'm going to find what did this to you and hurt them bad, Papa. I promise.
She fought the urge to hug the picture close to her. Daniel Elkins was probably the kindest person she would ever know. She'd loved him so dearly and right at that moment her loss was too much to bear. Before she could let it get a hold of her, she reminded her self that she had work to do. So she put the picture down and turned around to explore the rest of the room.
She switch to hunter mode and scanned the the room in one quick glance. Sam was sorting through some papers on the desk and Dean was crouching down eyeing something on the floor.
An empty wooden case caught Rachel's attention and she bent over to pick it up. Heavy. Made of mahogany perhaps. The cut out indentation was that of a gun and the smaller notched cut outs below were in the shape of bullets. Confused, she drew her brown together.
"What is it Rach?" Sam asked.
She looked up. Not sure what to make of the empty case.
"Nothing really. Just...this seems out of place here." She said, tilting the case so that Sam could see it.
"Why's that?" Sam said stooping next to her.
"This held a revolver. Papa wasn't into stuff like this. He was more of the shotgun type." She said motioning to the gun case along the wall where, even though the glass had been shattered out of it, every single one of the dozen or so long barreled gun hung precisely where they should. "And they didn't take any of those."
Before she could say anything else, she noticed that Sam's attention was now turned to Dean, who was still very closely examining the floor just beyond the thrown rug.
"Got something?" Sam asked him.
"I don't know. Some scratches in the floor." Dean said.
Rachel and Sam both stood and walked to where Dean crouched. Rachel was horrified to see blood on the floor next to the scratches that Dean was looking at but she pushed the bile rising in her throat down before it could overwhelm her.
"Death throws maybe?" Sam asked.
"Maybe." Dean answered without looking up.
Dean reached up and took a piece of paper from the desk along with a pencil. He placed the paper over the scratches on the floor and did a rubbing with the lead of the pencil. After he was done he picked up the paper and examined it.
"Or maybe a message." He handed the paper to Sam so that he and Rachel could both look at it. "Look familiar?"
Rachel was about to say 'no' when Sam answered.
"Three letters, six digits – the location and combination of a post office box. It's a mail drop."
"Just the way Dad does it." Dean said.
"Wait a minute. Explain this to me please. I have no idea what you guys are talking about." Rachel said.
Dean rose to his full height again and explained to her that before text messaging the older hunters used mail drops to communicate with each other, and that he'd seen his father do this many times with his hunter friends pastor Jim and some one name Caleb.
"So you think my grandfather left a message for someone in this P.O. box?" She asked.
"Only 1 way to find out." Dean said.