A/N: Hi guys thanks for reading. This chapter I had a lot of trouble with and I will probably rewrite it at a later time. But there are little aspects that I knew would be important to future chapters and I feel I need to move on with this story. The biggest problem is that I know where I want to go with this story I am just unsure how to get there. So, good luck and thank you again for reading.

Opening my eyes again I knew Dean would believe me, I could feel it, I had to get him that envelope like John had told me. I watched them, pretending to be engulfed in my notes. They were talking to each other and when Sam jutted his head towards my car and Dean slowly looked. I knew they suspected me. Dean proceeded to head toward the Sheriff and Sam went to the Impala, shit. This was not going to go at all like I have planned. I went to the trunk and out of my small arsenal I pulled a few "supplies" out and into my bag including my favorite, a Colt M1911A1 that was nickel plated, similar the one an old friend had had the last time I saw him. The gun was honestly a little big for me, but you couldn't beat it for knock down power and initial intimidation factor in a hand gun. I also threw in "old faithful", a Winchester 870 that had been my dad's. I had grown up deer hunting with it and had graduated it to this style of hunting. The thing was the most reliable gun I had ever owned. I slid in, threw my glasses to the side for good measure and squealed the tires as I raced off, the Impala trailing behind.

I drove the ten miles to the Starlight Motel, never deviating from my route, acting like I had no idea in the slightest that I was being tailed. Why couldn't Dean have gotten into that car; it would have made my life so much easier. I pulled right up to room number 4, grabbed my bag and proceeded in like nothing was amiss. The Impala slid into the parking spot by the office and just as I walked into my room, Sam went into the office. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, my skin was crawling. The vibes I got told me that this was not going to end well.

...********************************************************************************************************************************-

Sam followed the Camaro the entire way to the hotel, staying a few cars back for good measure, but the driver never seemed to notice that she was being followed. When she arrived at the Starlight Motel, he pulled into the parking lot and drove straight to the office. He watched as she grabbed her bag, and walked into her room, number 4. He checked into a room for the next week, and thanked the man behind the desk.

"You're the second this week to check in for that long mister, we don't get much business like that out here. That reporter in the Camaro is here for another week and she has been here since that boy died… You said you are FBI?"

"Yeah, my partner should be in later today."

"Well good luck to you, this town is in a panic over this. That kind of stuff just doesn't happen in small towns like this."

"We will do our best sir."

"Well I put you in room 10, just don't destroy anything and let me know if you'll be needing anything else."

He flipped open his phone to call Dean and it went straight to voicemail.

"Hey I'm at the Starlight Motel, we are in ten, she is in four. Found out she checked in right before they found the boy's body, she is defiantly involved or knows something. I'm going to check it out."

Sam went to the window outside of four, the curtains were half pulled, the room dark, except for a light in the bathroom, the shower was running. He picked the lock and slowly, quietly opened the door, gun drawn. Stepping inside he could see clearly the table of files, newspaper articles and notes on these cases and dozens of others. Pinned to the wall were numbers and crime scene photos that were drawn and scribbled one. Another step inside, he heard a grunt. He turned in time to see a shotgun heading for his face. Everything went black.

Slowly coming out of it, the world was fuzzy. Trying to move his arms Sam suddenly felt trapped. He was tied and handcuffed to a chair. From the shadows a voice came…

"You aren't going to be able to get out of those. They are pretty much hunter proof. I already patted you down, there is nothing left you can pick or cut any of it with."

"What do you want?"

"Help on this case. To give you and your brother information that you need to know."

"You have a funny way of asking for help."

She snorted and stood up from a crouching position, "Trust me, this is the only way. You wouldn't listen otherwise."

Moving the curtains, Sam watched her as she looked outside, "You and your brother would never trust another hunter or work with one you didn't know. I'm sorry, but this is the way it has to be right now."

Sam thought it was strange how truly remorseful her voice sounded.

Jen knew at this point it was only a waiting game until Dean showed up. She hated to do this to Sam, but it was necessary to get their attention.

...**************************************************************************************************************************-

"Where the hell is he?"

Dean was in number 10 of the Starlight Motel, the Impala was parked out front. Where in the hell was Sammy? Looking out the window, he scanned the parking lot. Something was wrong, 4 was awful dark for a car being parked out front.

"Son of a bitch."

Moving along side of motel walls he tried to catch a glimpse inside of 4, but the curtains were drawn. He began to pick the lock and drew his gun, slamming inside the room. In front of him he saw Sammy and that reporter with an 870 shotgun pointed at his little brothers head.

"Put it down you crazy bitch."

"Listen to me Dean we can talk this out, your brother came in here the same way and look what happened to him. I don't want to hurt you or him."

"Hurt me? That's cute."

He cocked the safety on his gun, aiming for the headshot.

"Dean, you better make it count. You are quick, but I have a shotgun, the spread at this range will kill Sam. It would be a hell of a lot easier if you would just put it down."

"I don't give in that easy. You first."

"Alright"

He was shocked when she lowered the shotgun and faced him, staring at him, waiting, watching. He pulled the gun up, resetting the hammer and stuck it in the back of his pants. She smirked, watching him. An odd thought occurred to him.

"How do you know who we are?"

She grabbed something off the table beside her and tossed him a leather bound binder that he caught.

"Does that look familiar?"

Inside it were photo copies of the journal that Dean had on the inside of his jacket. A copy of his father's journal.

"How did you get this?"

"Your dad gave it to me about four years ago, he taught me how to hunt and about everything I know has come from that journal. He told me you two were the best hunters around and that if I ever got into a jam, you two would be just about the best I could hope for."

It was Dean's turn to smirk. She began untying Sam who at this point in time was thoroughly confused and pissed off.

"Sorry about that, but I needed to get your guys' attention, and the odds were kind of bad for me. You know, two to one."

"My dad never mentioned you."

"I'm sure he didn't for a reason, but anyways I was told to give this to you."

She held an envelope in her hand, Dean reached for it and she pulled it back and over her shoulder.

"Nope. You help me on this case, I give this to you. Call it an insurance policy. Deal?"

"Like you said before, we don't work with other hunters." Sam chimed in.

Jen turned to Sam head cocked, biting the inside of her cheek, controlling herself before she snapped.

"Last time I checked Sam, your dad was missing. He gave this to me to give to you guys. This could be your only chance at finding him."

Dean looked at her, jaw clenching, "We help you with this case and the second it's done that envelope is in my possession."

"Of course." She held out her hand. He grabbed it and they shook.

"My name is Jen by the way."

...**************************************************************************************************************************-

Thirty minutes later she had them run through most of the details. Both were still suspicious of her, but had relaxed considerably once they had slid back into the rhythm of the job. Plus she put them at ease, her instincts were solid and Jen knew her stuff. Even Sam was impressed at the amount of information she had dug up on her own. Jen walked to the fridge and grabbed three beers. Dean took his and popped the top off, hell it was five o'clock somewhere.

"So now it is a matter of finding out who he is."

Sam shook his head, "Jen, spirits don't move like that, they are attached to a place."

"Not if it were attached to some particular object. It wouldn't matter then."

Dean nodded, "Like the hook man a few months back, he was attached to the silver, remember?"

Jen pushed her hair back, "I'm telling you I have been through this pattern back to the mid-1800s where it begins. It doesn't fit any monster pattern or any ritualistic sacrifice for lower gods that I can find. And I have been trying cross reference the years before the first deaths with 31 year olds but I can't find what I am looking for."

Sam looked over everything on the wall again. "How do you know who you're looking for when no one has seen anything and there is no local lore? What do you have these numbers tied to?"

"That's how I figured out what I am looking for. The ages of the victims, 12, 21 and 40. They are all biblically significant numbers."

Both gave her dumbfounded looks. Jen responded by rolling her eyes.

" Twelve, like the apostles. Twenty-one, a lot of significant prophecies made add or make twenty one in some form, there are twenty-one chapters of revelation that contain horrific violence. Forty, like the forty days Jesus spent in the desert, the forty years Moses spent leading the Israelites to safety. There are always three deaths like the trinity. They always disappear seven days apart; God created the earth in seven days, there are seven holy sacraments, etcetera. They always are found three days after they disappear, 'and on the third day Jesus rose again', blah, blah. "

Dean snorted, "That could just be a coincidence."

"That's what I thought at first too. But all the numbers are biblically significant. Not just some of them. So I figured we are looking for a priest that died in the mid-1800s, at 31, violently, probably lynched. After all accidents don't just happen."

It was Sam's turn to question her, "What makes you say that? You couldn't possibly have gotten that from just the numbers."

"I have good instincts", Jen replied indignantly, "Plus, it is the first killing. It is always a twelve year old boy. The other two's gender vary. So that one is more significant which is why I say priest, not reverend."

Dean shook his head in disgust, "That's disgusting. You put all this together on your own in four days?"

"I had been looking for a new case, trying to find patterns before they started again. This one caught my eye and I tried to get here on time but didn't make it. Now I am trying to play catch up."

Sam snorted, "So we are looking for a needle in a stack of needles according to you. Great."

"Take it easy Sammy; she's doing a decent job for being by herself. Don't be a girl just because she took down your ass and tied you to a chair."

"I'm going to go back to the room to grab my laptop."

Sam stomped out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

"Is he always bitchy like that?"

"You did tie him to a chair. Nah, he's a good kid but he doesn't play well with other hunters."

"You want another beer?"

"Now that I wouldn't say no to."

Jen grabbed two more beers from the fridge, handed Dean one and she sat on the couch adjacent to him.

"I don't understand. I know it is a spirit. But I have been through every damn death record, birth record, and every freaking cemetery in this town and I can't find a person who matches this."

"Now this may be out there, but have you considered that you might be wrong?"

"I'm not. Unfortunately, when it comes to weird, I am never wrong."

Dean watched her eyes jump from paper to paper on the wall.

"Well then let's figure out who this asshole is."

...**************************************************************************************************************************-

Jen's POV

Hours later we were still sitting in silence. Sam was focused on his laptop, Dean was going through old newspapers, and I was going through more records that I had lifted from the town hall. My vision was starting to blur from being up so long.

Dean's hands slammed on the table, making me jump.

"Yahtzee!"

Sam spoke up, "You got something?"

"Why the hell else would I say Yahtzee? Yes I've got something. Jen was right. There isn't a death record, but there is an article in a newspaper from 1881 about a Father Gregory becoming the head of the local church after the abrupt departure of a Father Adams. The weird thing is that in no preceding articles did it mention that Father Adams was leaving. He just fell off the face of the earth. And guess what Adams was? Wait for it...31 years old."

I nodded, "Back then the church would have just wanted the problem to go away. So whatever happened to Adams wasn't documented and just swept under the rug. My best guess is he was probably lynched and burned once the boy's family found what was happening to him."

Sam finally chimed in, "So it is an object. Fantastic."

I smiled, my couple classes in religious history may not have been so much of a waist.

"I know what it is. You guys are going to love this. It is the cross that the priests wear. They used to stay with the parish. Especially if the previous one died."

Sam smiled back, "That explains how it gets around town, wherever the priest goes Adams goes with him. If he is a vengeful spirit Adams could be possessing the priests."

Dean joined in, "So every 31 years the ghost wakes up and takes the priest on a joyride to take revenge on the type of people who killed him."

"Sounds like we need to track down a crucifix."

Sam looked at me, "No offense Jen, but how are you going to get a thing that a priest wears at all times? It's not like you can just walk up to him and pull it off his neck."

"Watch and learn boys."

I walked out of the room and to the trunk of the Camaro. Now where did I put it, ah yes. I pulled out the pack of animal tranquilizers that I kept with all my other "miscellaneous" liquids. As I turned around Dean and Sam were watching me from the door.

"So are you guys getting in or am I riding with you?"

Dean walked over to the car.

"You do realize you have a pretty sweet ride, 69, right?"

"Yep, did all the work on it myself, I pulled it out of a junk yard a few years ago."

Singer Auto to be exact, but they didn't need to know that right now. We pilled in and my radio was blasting, turning it down Dean spoke from the passenger's seat…

"You like Quiet Riot? "

"Hells yeah" I winked, "You bitching? Cause driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his pie hole."

He chuckled. "Wouldn't dream of it. I just had you more pegged as a Spice Girls, pop, hip hop person."

"Yeah, when hell freezes over. The closest I get to anything modern is some country when I get bored. Anyways when we get to the church the goal is for you guys to talk to the priest. I will take care of the rest."

Thirty minutes later Dean and Sam were talking to the priest inside the church. I was making my way up the balcony where the choir would be at. I could hear their muffled conversation below.

"Well I am glad your family is considering joining our little parish."

You guys are so full of shit. Just keep him talking for a few more minutes, please. I could see them now and I aimed the gun at the priest's neck. In, out, in. Dean caught the movement of the gun out of the corner of his eye and the look he gave me was startled and it clearly asked 'what the hell I thought I was doing'. Out. I pulled the trigger and the dart landed right in the jugular and he dropped like a sack of shit.

"What in the hell?", Sam was checking for the priest's pulse, Looking around and finally spotted me. I blew on the barrel, raised my eyebrows and chuckled. Dean laughed, Sam was clearly not amused.

"Was that at all necessary, the last thing he is going to remember is us talking to him and he is going to think we stole it."

"Well technically we are going to steal it." I replied as I climbed down the stairs.

"She has a point, Sammy, it might not be our normal tactics, but the job is getting done."

I joined them on the floor of the church and ripped the chain off the priest's neck. When my hand touched the chain I could see my breath.

"Ah, hell."

"Son of a bitch."

I was tossed across the room and my head hit a pew, the wood splintered and embedded into my shoulder. The boys were thrown in the other direction. Above the body stood a figure of a man with charred clothing and skin that had melted and burned.

"JEN! You got it?" Dean yelled.

"Yeah."

"Well get rid of it now."

I jumped up and started running for the front where a torch was burning, grabbing the salt container from my jacket pocket. Halfway to the front something jerked my ankles backwards and I fell face first onto the stone. I groaned turning, the ghost was on top of me grabbing my neck. Where his hands touched my skin burned. The edges of my vison were starting to go black and my hands searched for something to help. Nothing. I kept grasping, hoping, then salt passed through the ghost and Dean was standing above me.

"Thanks" I choked.

He grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet, "Don't mention it."

Sam had caught up and grabbed the crucifix from the floor. It was getting cold again and the lights were flickering wildly. Shit was flying off the walls.

"How about we give the good father a proper sendoff Sammy?"

Sam threw the crucifix into the fire with the salt. Adams was walking up the aisle at us now. His edges smoldering.

"Sammy, you want to hurry that up a little bit?"

Adams grabbed Dean but there was nothing left to defend him with. Sam and I grasped at the ghost, but both of us got tossed across the room again, but this time my back collided with the alter. Adams edges started to burn, he screamed, and then he was gone. Dean got up, beat up, but okay.

"Well that was just tons of fun. Remind me not to ever do that again."

...**************************************************************************************************************************-

Back at the Starlight all three of them were getting cleaned up and tending to their wounds. Sam probably had a minor concussion and bruises as did Dean. Jen had a nasty cut to her shoulder but she wrapped it up and called it a day. Both her and Dean shared the same strangulation marks that Adams' victims had. After she cleaned herself up and packed she knocked on the door to ten. Dean answered.

"I believe this belongs to you." She handed him the envelope.

Dean looked her up and down again. Battered and bruised she still maintained composer, a mark of a true hunter, you didn't let the job ever get to you.

"Thanks." He smiled, "You mean to tell me you have never opened this."

"Dean, I have had that for four years, since the day your father gave it to me, and I have never opened it. Sure I was curious, but he told me not to and to make sure that you got it when I saw you and Sam. I respect him enough to do what he asked"

"How did you meet my dad?"

"Let's just say that he saved my life and that is a big part of the reason I hunt."

"My dad, Sammy and me have saved a lot of people and they don't just become hunters Jen. This life isn't for normal people."

"I can't sit by and watch stuff happen that I know I can change. And who the hell said I am normal? As serial killerish as it sounds, I love it in its own twisted, screwed up way. And you can't say it is without its perks." She gestured towards her car.

"I guess so. Hey, if you ever need any help Sam and I are a phone call away, alright?"

"Sure, see you around Dean."

He watched her cross the parking lot and go back into four. Jen was a hell of a woman, fearless and different. Dean couldn't put his finger on it. She was a hunter like she had said. He had seen it when that ghost attacked her, Jen hadn't panicked. It was old hat for her, it was fun. Closing the door he looked at the envelope. It was plain but aged.

"What do you think dad put in it?"

"I have no idea but we are about to find out."

Dean ripped the seal and read the content. All five words.

...**************************************************************************************************************************-

Jen's POV

I was doing a last check of the room to leave. I don't know what I had expected but I, everything, felt wrong. Like I was supposed to do something else, like something still had to happen before I left town. So I did what anyone would do and switched on the TV. Just as I was about to sit, there was a knock on the door.

I opened it, "Dean? What is it?". He had clearly just sprinted the parking lot.

"You have never seen what was inside this envelope?", He was stern, walking towards me, holding it up, "You have no idea what it says?"

I backed in the room but held my ground, Sam burst in seconds later.

"I told you I have never seen what was inside. Why would I lie?"

"What did my dad tell you when he gave this to you? Answer me goddammit."

"He told me it had to be your decision. That's it. What the hell is your problem?"

He searched my face for a while and calmed.

"Nothing. I'm sorry."

He walked past me into the room and looked at the wall a bit. I looked at Sam but he appeared just as confused as me. But that empty feeling had begun to leave my gut. Something changed. After minuets Dean finally broke the silence.

"Hey Jen? What do you say you hit the road with us?"

After his little outburst that had been the last thing I expected, "What?"

"Yeah", he rubbed the back of his neck, "it's not safe for hunters alone, and plus maybe cause you knew dad you could help us find him."

Sam jumped forward, "Dean, aren't we going to talk about this, we don't…"

Dean cut him off mid thought, "What do you say Jen? We could use the extra help."

I thought for a moment, a smile crept across my lips.

"Yes."