Chapter Four
Dean's wakeup call came about nine o'clock with a sharp knock at the door. He ignored it at first, figuring that it was Sam, and went back to sleep until a slight shift in the mattress jolted him awake. His hand automatically went under the pillow to grip a knife that wasn't there and he turned to see Erika looking down at him. He looked only for a moment at the lovely pair of legs hiding behind a slim black skirt before letting his head fall back on the pillow.
"This is my kind of wakeup call," he said playfully, taking a quick moment to eye the plunge of skin down the front of her shirt. "I knew you'd change your mind."
"Did you?"
"Yep," he said. "But I'd hate for Sam to catch us."
"That so?" she asked. "We'll have to be quick, then."
His head jerked from off the pillow and he stared at her suspiciously. He noticed the complacency in her startling eyes and he gave up the idea. He decided she was kidding and let his head fall back onto the pillow. The disappointment was sharp.
"Come on, wake up," she said, shaking his shoulder a bit. The quick jolt from the touch had her pulling back like she'd been burned. He didn't acknowledge the sensation, but allowed his mind to wander for a split second before closing his eyes again.
"Wake up."
Dean grunted, suddenly very reluctant to leave the warmth of the bed.
"I am awake."
"I was going to do this nicely but I can always go get a pail of ice water."
"Harsh," he said.
"Necessary," she replied. "You didn't answer the door and breakfast is ready."
"Breakfast?" he said, picking his head up. "Like, food?"
"I thought that'd do the trick," she said, a smile in her voice. "Sam's already dressed and downstairs. I have to say, I've never seen anyone go through coffee that fast."
"Yeah, he's had a serious thing for caffeine lately," Dean said. "If you want to cut him off, go for it. You'd be doing me a favor."
"I'd rather keep my limbs, thanks," she said. "He does need to cut down some or he'll stop sleeping. He doesn't look any better than when I saw him last night."
Dean pursed his lips and knew the reason.
"He's got a lot on his mind," he said simply, leaving no room for an explanation.
"You need to get up and moving, though, or you'll go hungry. Sam says you guys have a lot to do today."
"Yeah, okay," he said and rolled out of bed, heading for the door. "I'll take a quick shower and I'll be downstairs." His lips pulled into his best smile. "Care to join me?"
"Yeah, sure," she said, walking past him and leaving her perfume swirling in her wake. Dean's vision clouded, and then cleared. "I'll be there in five. Don't wait up."
"Your loss," he declared through a tightened throat and turned from her, ignoring the familiar buzz in his head. He shrugged the feeling off and walked down the hall to the bathroom, missing the quick smile on her face. She shook her head and headed down the stairs.
Sam was on his fourth cup of coffee when Dean finally appeared at the bottom of the stairs, feeling more awake than he had in some time. He looked at the large dining room table, decked out with a spotless white table cloth and sterling silver flatware, and felt completely alien. The scene looked like something out of Norman Rockwell.
Dean sat down next to his brother and Erika stood, walking to the kitchen. His eyes followed her until she was out of sight but then stared at the candlestick in front of him. The intimacy of the room had put him off, and he said nothing. Sam was in the middle of draining a massive cup of inky black liquid that Dean assumed was either coffee or tar. He thought about what Erika had said.
Sam noticed the look on his brother's face and scowled.
"What?" he asked.
Dean shook his head. "Nothing."
Dean was about to go help Erika in the kitchen when she came through the doors with a plate of food and a large cup of black coffee. She sat both in front of him with a flourish and he could have kissed her, would have, but instead contented himself with watching the steam rise from the plate.
"Don't mention it," she cut in as he started to thank her. "You're a guest here. We're supposed to take care of you."
"You're doing a damn good job," he said and picked up his fork. Erika smiled as he made various noises of approval. "This is the best breakfast I've ever had," he said.
"Glad you think so, sugar," she said and started clearing hers and Sam's dishes, both of whom had apparently been awake for some time. Dean watched her for a moment before turning to his meal, which from that moment on had his complete and undivided attention. He looked up only briefly as she returned through the doorway with her purse and keys, heels clicking as she walked.
"You going somewhere?" Dean asked around a forkful of food.
"Yeah," Erika said, "Faculty meeting. I won't be long, but I'll be at the school if you guys need me. If not, I'll be here when you get back to the house. Will you be able to find it on your own?"
Dean considered the question and ran through the road in his mind.
"Yeah, I think we're good."
"Okay," she said, sitting a piece of paper down by Dean's left hand. He stared at her delicate fingers for a split second before looking her back in the eyes.
"These are all the numbers where you can reach me," she continued, unaware of Dean's gaze. "The first is my cell phone, the second is my office, and the third is the phone here at the house. If I don't answer one, try another. I'm rarely unreachable."
"Will do," Sam said, getting up from the table. "We should get going, anyway." Dean looked up from his unfinished meal, complained a bit with his eyes, but dutifully stood.
They said their farewells and watched Erika walk out the door. Dean stole bits of bacon from his plate as he carried it to the kitchen, feeling that it would have been rude to leave it sitting on the table. As soon as he walked through the doors he could smell her and he breathed deeply, in part to take in her scent and in part to smooth the upset in his stomach. He called to mind the night before, the memory of watching her cook in a baggy t-shirt, and found himself smiling.
"Dean!" Sam called from the next room. "What the hell are you doing?"
He exhaled loudly.
"Hell if I know."
Erika blinked hard and tried to keep up her attention as the vice principal signed furiously. The other faculty members nodded in agreement every now and then but the room remained silent. Sometimes at these meetings, she wondered why she bothered having the ability to hear; there was nothing in the school to listen to.
Now, about the new principal.
This statement made Erika sit up and pay closer attention.
Since Mr. Evans' death we've been looking for a replacement, she said. None has been found and so we will continue with me acting as a temporary replacement until a suitable one has been found.
The faculty, including Erika, nodded their heads in morbid understanding. Most were still trying to understand what could possibly be happening within the walls of their school. For the most part, the community had a happy understanding with the school. There were no conflicts with the residents and the city backed St. Theresa's completely. No particularly nasty land battles or upsets within the school's hierarchy to cause any kind of violence between the employees whatsoever. As far as she knew, there never had been.
Each faculty and staff member had been interviewed by the police on numerous occasions, each of them offering very little to the investigation. It was disheartening to see how little was really being done on the law enforcement end; although Erika had a feeling the police wouldn't be able to catch the killer anyway. That's why she'd called Aunt Ellen in the first place. It wasn't so much that the police didn't care; that wasn't it at all. They just didn't have anything to work with.
Erika wondered how many cases were just as unsolvable throughout the rest of the country.
When the meeting ended the faculty spread to their separate corners of the room, sipping coffee and signing to the other teachers. Erika poured a cup of her own and smirked a little, thinking of Sam. While she added cream, she caught a fragment of another teacher's conversation.
It was very weird.
Knowing that was probably her cue, she set to adding more condiments to her coffee. She knew that by the time she was done she wouldn't be able to drink it, but she needed an excuse to "listen" in. She tried her best to be discreet—watching two deaf people sign was the same thing as eavesdropping in the deaf community—and because she was the only "hearing" teacher in the school, she conducted herself by their rules. She simultaneous butchered her coffee with sugar and kept a studious eye on the two women standing a few feet from her. The teacher who originally caught her eye, a small Hispanic woman named Anna, continued to tell her story.
I had turned around to finish wiping off the chalkboard and when I turned around, a desk was turned over. A student wasn't even in the room!
Erika's eyes widened but she stayed put, adding a fifth sugar and stirring. She couldn't see the other teacher's reply, but saw her nodding intermittently throughout. She could only assume that the other teacher was agreeing.
Deep in concentration, Erika almost jumped when a hand closed over her shoulder. She whirled around to face Anna, who regarded her with a concerned smile and signed, What's wrong?
Oh, nothing, Erika signed back. She quickly improvised. I think I'm losing my mind.
Why is that? The woman asked.
Every time I turn around in my classroom, things are getting moved around. I don't remember doing anything, but I must have because no one else is in the room.
It was a lie, of course, but one Erika didn't feel too guilty about. The other teacher's eyes widened a little and she laid a hand on Erika's forearm. The surprise was quickly covered by understanding and she smiled. Erika thought the look was something like what an aunt would do to placate a child.
You're not crazy, the woman signed. A lot of things like that have been happening. To everyone.
What do you mean? Erika signed back, feigning ignorance.
Two days ago, Mr. Wiles had a stack of books shoved off his desk while his back was turned, she signed, shaking her head. No one had even been in the room. I don't think I've ever seen a man more scared.
Poor Mr. Wiles, she replied, her sympathy completely genuine. What about everyone else?
Were you here early yesterday morning?
Erika thought about it. No, she'd been running late yesterday morning and running in circles around the house trying to find her car keys. She shook her head in answer.
Well, Anna continued, About seven-thirty, just before all the children started arriving, there was some kind of power outage.
What do you mean? Erika asked, confused. She'd been told nothing about the event.
We were all having our coffee in the teacher's lounge, talking about your new student, and the lights started going on and off. It did it for five minutes until finally one of the janitors flipped the breaker. He kept the lights off for a few seconds, and then turned them back on. Nothing happened after that.
She shook her head in resignation. What's happening around here, Anna?
I don't know, Anna signed and patted her hand, which she held in her own. But don't you worry about it. The police will fix everything.
She replied that she hoped so, but was thinking that the only fixing was going to be done by two drifters named Winchester.