"So why exactly is this place worth checking out Sammy?" asked Dean as he waited in the diner booth for the order he had just placed to come out.
"Well, over the past few weeks disappearances have been happening all around the town," Sam replied, "Nobody knows what happened to them, no evidence of foul play in any of the disappearances, no leads whatsoever."
"And what makes you think this is our line of work? Isn't this something for local police to handle?" Dean questioned.
Sam shook his head, "No, I definitely think something's up. Take a look at the pictures of the people that went missing." Sam placed a set of photographs on the table.
Dean flipped through the photos, "Yikes, this dude looks like he could swallow a friggin' bus," Dean got to the next photo, "Well hello there," he flashed a photo of girl who clearly was posing for a model shot at Sam, "I can see why this needs investigating."
Sam rolled his eyes, "That's not the reason why I think this is our line of work Dean. Take a look at these," Sam put a stack of newspaper articles in front of Dean, "Notice anything familiar?"
"Oh I sure do," said Dean looking at the first clipping, "Miss Victoria's Secret made the front page I see."
"Take a look at the date," said Sam.
Dean checked the date at the top of the newspaper, "Wait a minute, that can't be right. This is from 80 years ago Sam."
"Exactly," said Sam.
"How the hell is she in this newspaper when she can only be, what age is she?" A confused Dean asked.
"25 next month according to her birth date," Sam answered.
Dean scanned the other news articles. Each one showed pictures of the people that had gone missing, but each article was written years before the missing people had been born, "Ok, this may possibly be our kind of case."
The Impala rolled up in front of the two story house on Wickham Drive. Sam and Dean stepped out of the car both in suits and walked up to the front door. Dean knocked. A woman who looked as if she had just been crying her eyes out answered the door.
"Who are you?" she asked rubbing her red eyes.
"Are you Helena Davis?" asked Dean
"Yes," she answered warily.
Sam and Dean held up FBI badges, "I'm Agent Frey, this is Agent Henley," continued Dean, "We're here to talk to you about your missing husband."
"I don't understand," said Helena, "I already talked to the police yesterday."
"We're doing a follow up on their report," said Sam.
"Did you notice anything strange at all the night your husband went missing?" asked Dean.
"Not really, no," said Helena, "I came back rather late that night. I had a few drinks so I didn't even notice that Colin was missing until the next morning. I got out of bed and noticed he wasn't there, so I figured I must have slept in and he had gone to work for the day. Then I remembered he was supposed to have that morning off so I started looking around the house for him."
"Was there any sign that something might have happened while you were out that night?" asked Sam.
"Not that I could tell," replied Helena, "Although, I did find a half finished beer on the counter in the morning. A bunch of furniture was piled next to our bedroom door too. Our desk was moved right next to it, and so was the dresser, right beside it. He must have been rearranging the room or something."
Sam pondered for a second, "Mrs. Davis, did your husband have any enemies that might have wanted to hurt him?"
"Goodness no," she said, "Colin always kept to himself. Didn't speak to very many people actually. He doesn't even keep in contact with any of his old college buddies. He invites a couple of co workers over from time to time, but he's not really close to anyone apart from me."
"And what about his home life?" asked Sam, "Did you two ever have any problems? Anything that might have caused him to leave without saying anything?"
"Our marriage was just fine, if you're trying to imply anything," said an offended Helena, "I mean, we may have had our differences from time to time, but he wouldn't leave me just for that."
"What kind of differences?" asked Dean
"Well, financial problems, that sort of thing," said Helena, "We're not quite caught up on payments for this and that, and well, I recently took some money out to help with a party a friend of mine was hosting. I meant to put whatever I took out back as soon as I made some more cash before Colin could notice anything, but he found out after checking our bank account. I couldn't bear to tell him I had been using the money for alcohol, but he assumed that I had spent it on some statue that someone put in our yard."
"Statue?" asked Sam
"Yes," said Helena, "One day I found a statue in our garden. Someone must have put it there. I don't know why. I kind of liked it, but Colin couldn't stand it. On top of that, he thought I had bought it and was lying about it too. He didn't believe me that someone else had put it there."
"Do you mind if we take a look around the house?" asked Dean.
"Go right ahead," said Helena, "but I don't know what you expect to find, the officers from yesterday already checked the house."
Sam proceeded to the kitchen while Dean went up the stairs to check on the bedroom. Pulling out his EMF detector, Sam began looking for anything suspicious. No reactions came from anywhere. He methodically searched every inch of the kitchen, and then moved on to the living room, and then the dining room. He couldn't find any sign of supernatural activity whatsoever. Finally he decided to go see if Dean had found anything.
Upstairs Dean was examining the furniture Helena hadn't even bothered moving back to their original spots, "This look like a barricade for the door to you?" asked Dean.
"Sure does," said Sam, "Find anything up here?"
"Nothing," said Dean, "No traces of sulfur, no hex bags, no EMF. I have no clue what we're dealing with here."
Sam checked the window for signs of entry, "Think anything could have gotten through the window?"
"Already checked it," said Dean, "Nothing there either. Just looks out over the garden."
Sam looked out and sure enough, nothing suggesting something had come in through the window, just a garden down below with an angel statue holding its hands over its eyes.
"C'mon," said Dean, "Let's check out some of the other houses."
"I don't know Sammy, maybe these really are normal disappearances," said Dean as he bit into a piece of pie at their hotel room, "Dad's journal says that everything it might be would leave some kind of trace, and we found nothing at any of the places we checked."
"What about all those newspaper articles Dean?" asked Sam.
"I don't know. Really odd coincidences?" said Dean, "Have you ever heard of something that can make a person appear back in…"
Sam looked confused, "What? Dean?"
"Son of a Bitch," said Dean, "Remember when Cas sent me back to 1973?"
"You thinking this might be a rogue angel?" asked Sam.
"I wouldn't put it past them," said Dean, "Who knows what they're up to now. Cas said that most of Heaven was in anarchy now that we stopped the apocalypse right?"
"Maybe we should ask him," said Sam.
Dean nodded, "Cas, this is kind of important. We're a little stumped right now and need your help."
From behind them they heard the sound of flapping wings. Sam and Dean turned to see Castiel standing in their hotel room, "Sam, Dean," he said.
"Cas," said Dean, "We think we might have found some angel zapping people back in time. It looks like he's hitting this town pretty hard."
Cas concentrated then said, "No, it's not an Angel. There are some distinct time distortions around this town as you say, but none of my race is causing these distortions. I'm afraid you've got something else on your hands."
"Dammit!" shouted Dean, "Well what could it be then? I mean, something's going all Doc Brown on us, but what?"
"This sounds like something new," said Sam, "Something we haven't encountered before. Maybe something no other hunter has ever encountered before."
"How are we supposed to track it or find out its next target?" asked Dean.
"If I may," said Castiel, "I should be able to get you someone who can help you out."
"Who?" asked Sam.
"Well, I've been trying to 'get into your culture' more and I started this trendy thing called blogging," said Castiel, "In one that I've enjoyed reading, there's a man who says he can solve anything, or find anyone. He says he some kind of consulting detective."
"Great," said Dean, "We're turning to the kooks on the internet now. Wait a minute Cas, where did you even get a computer from?"
"I wanted to find out what else happened to the pizza man," said Cas, "So I 'borrowed' one from a store. It's quite interesting what happens too. See after he's done at the lady's house he-
"Ok, this is approaching the realm of too much information," Dean cut Castiel off, "Just show us where to find this guy Cas."
