Harvelle's Roadhouse was not a jumping joint. Too far off the beaten path and just plain creepy, only three people were inside in addition to Ellen, the owner. Her daughter Jo was still M.I.A. and Ellen had found no need to hire a replacement so she waited on the two unsmiling men sitting at the bar and the tall, dark haired woman sitting alone at one of the tables herself.
Dean checked out the brunette as soon as he came through the door and gave her his best satisfaction guaren-fucking-teed smile before stepping up to the bar to order a beer and a burger from a scowling Ellen.
But evidently his charm was lost on them both as daggers flew from Ellen's eyes aimed straight at his heart and the woman at the table picked up her gear and slowly walked out the door favoring her right leg as she went.
Too bad, he thought. It would have been nice to talk to someone other than Sam while he waited for Ellen to deliver his cheeseburger, which would undoubtedly come with a side of reproach and a guiltshake.
He sat at the woman's vacated table to wait while Sam talked animatedly to Ellen then joined him, setting two more beers down on the table.
"Ellen thinks Bobby's headed down the suicide highway," Sam said sliding into his chair and Dean nearly choked on his beer.
He'd never known anyone quite as centered as Bobby Singer in this off-kilter world. Sure the man was an eccentric but look what he did for fun. Was that any reason to think he was going to off himself?
"That's crap, Sammy," he spit out, "What makes her think that?"
"He's paid his tab and returned everything he's ever borrowed from her. She thinks he's putting his affairs in order."
Dean's lips pursed skeptically but before he could insist again that it was crapola, Sam added, "Oh yeah, and there's that death wish thing," and Dean looked at his brother, his eyes questioning.
"It seems he invited an old friend into his home, a friend he knew had been bitten by a werewolf and he couldn't bring himself to kill the poor bastard when he turned. The hunter who'd originally been chasing the lycaon showed up in the nick of time."
"So he couldn't kill him. You said it was an old friend."
"The hunter said Bobby just dropped his weapon and put out his arms as if inviting the beast to kill him."
Well that sure as hell sounded like a death wish but why would Bobby want to commit suicide by werewolf? They needed to find out before it was too late because he wasn't sure he could take another death in "the family."
Ellen, who had already morphed into the epitome of a wicked stepmother, came up to the table and set Sam's plate in front of him.
She practically tossed Dean's across the table to him and he said acidly, "I'm glad I didn't order soup."
"There's a diner about two hundred and fifty miles south of here," she told him turning on her heel.
"Who was the woman sitting here?" he asked quickly before she could move away.
She turned back to look at him and said, "A pretty smart cookie, I'm guessing, if she didn't fall for that come hither look you gave her when you came in."
Sam laughed. He had often wanted to poke a pin in his brother's head or shoot him with a nail gun to deflate his oversized ego and savored the moment as Ellen did it with just a sharp tongue.
"I find it hard to believe, too?" Dean replied genuinely surprised that the woman had just gotten up and walked out.
He had such a pathetic look on his face that Ellen felt sorry for him for a moment and told him, "I don't know who she is and neither do the others. They do think she's some kind of a hunter, though. She started coming in here a little over a week ago, just sitting at the same table, occasionally ordering food but mostly just watching, waiting. If you hurry you may be able to catch up with her."
She looked pointed at him and Dean suddenly felt the need to check himself for oozing blood as she continued to flay him for Jo's disappearance. It was not his fault that Jo was gone. Well, maybe he did have something to do with the cluster fuck that had split up mother and daughter but most of the events had been set into motion years before.
He could though, take a hint when it was dropped on his head like an anvil and he told Sam that they should leave for Bobby's as soon as they finished eating and paid Ellen for the food and that a pound of his flesh should cover it.
