A Different Perspective
Chapter 4
You pull in your driveway and just sit there for a moment, taking in and releasing a deep breath as you think about the last several hours...
You're officially nuts...off your rocker...ready for a rubber room; no, not because you believed them when they said you were hunting a ghost, but because you had just made plans with absolute strangers to go hunt said ghosts.
You must have sat there longer than you thought when the front door opens and your husband is standing at the door looking out at you; you give another heavy sigh and climb from your car.
"Hey, you beat me home..." you say as way of greeting.
"Where you been, thought you had an early day today..." your husband asks casually.
"Yeah, got the meetings and the visits out of the way but you know the feds...the paperwork is the worst part of the job..." you lie easily.
He just nods and accepts the information absently, having heard the complaint many times in the past.
You spend a few minutes discussing your day, before heading upstairs to check on your teenage daughter.
She barely acknowledges you as she is simultaneously plugged into her I Pod and Skype'ing on her computer at the same time.
Coming upstairs behind you, your husband reminds you it's your week to pick your son up from college.
Soon, in that truly 'new millennium' family way, you are all in different rooms of the house, plugged into your electronics; and for once it doesn't bother you. You have some calls to make and you really don't need to be overheard. Again you shake your head at the absolute absurdity of the whole situation.
...
You're up and out of the house just like every other weekday, only this time you're not going to work: instead you're sitting in one of those little hole in the wall diners people usually frequent at 3am after a night of bar-hopping.
Why are you here? Why are you doing this? You shake your head, as you consider all that you've done in the last 24 hours that is so out of character for you...and you're seriously considering getting up and going home and calling it a sick day when they come through the door of the diner.
You don't acknowledge them as they come through the door, choosing to let them come to you; so you feign an absent stare out the window. Maybe it they just walk on by you can chalk this whole experience up to temporary insanity and move on.
No such luck, as they slide into the booth opposite you. You look at them with a simple greeting, "morning."
Sam nods and returns your greeting, before pulling a menu while Dean just looks at you intently, eyebrows raised appraisingly.
"What," you ask impatiently.
He just shakes his head, "nothing," and also begins perusing the menu.
You just shake your head, again silently asking yourself, 'why?'
After the boys order, you ask casually, "So what did you find out...anything?"
"There have been four victims so far...two young guys were hurt while out hunting, the owner of the nearby farm was hurt while out cutting firewood and the last...the guy that died, seemed to keel over from a massive heart attack while visiting the renovation site..." Sam reported.
'Okay...so far nothing that couldn't easily have been pulled from a news site...' you think with some relief, hoping your expression conveys the neutral appearance your aiming for.
"Anything tie them together...?" Dean asked.
Sam shook his head, "not that I can find...outside of being neighbors, nothing really ties them together except for being in the same area..." Sam answered.
"So, what about the area...anything there...?" Dean asks, and there is something in his tone that sets off warning bells in your head, though when you glance at him his expression reveals nothing.
"The area where the accidents and death took place are are all within a mile and a half radius...on the biggest tract of land...about 400 acres; it has two registered family cemetery's—the Toomey's and the Spenser's, with about 22 graves between them; but since it dates back to the late 1800's there are most likely grave sites throughout the property," Sam reported, like a kid giving a book report, "I traced the land deeds for that 300 acres...there have only been three owners of that piece of land since the area was settled. Two of those were from the same family...and the owner now...well owners, there are five...have owned it for about eight years...and three of them are very distantly related to the original owners."
"Twenty-two graves plus...really-gotta narrow that down, Sammy. I don't get it...nothing creepy at all, for all these years, and now all of a sudden Casper goes all psycho killer...we need to know what suddenly set it off...?" Dean said.
Your eyes bounce back and forth between the two men as you listen to their back and forth recourse, it almost seems they forgot you were there. You can't help but be impressed at the amount of information they have managed to pull together in such a short amount of time...and not being a child of the computer age, also being a little creeped out by the amount of information they have been able to get in the short time span.
"Well, I found a renovation permit when I was tracing the property owners...tearing down the old homestead house; well, what's left of it anyway, " Sam said.
"So, someones digging up more than dirt..." Dean commented.
Sam sat back in the booth, turning slightly so as to eye us both, a thoughtful look on his face, "maybe...but if they disturbed a grave during the renovation that should have got the attention of the local authorities, " Sam's eyes briefly met mine as he added, "...but I haven't found anything..."
"Maybe, ol' Toomey...or someone in the family is just pissy that they're losin' the old homestead..." Dean replied with a shrug, arching an eyebrow he added pointedly, "what we need is to get a look around the place..."
As you listened to Sam read off the information from the computer, you contemplate the furtive looks and the undercurrent of 'knowing' in the tone of their conversation and wonder if the little 'report' wasn't specifically designed just for you—did they know of the connection? You've spent too much time around ornery, plotting children not to recognize the signs when something was up.
You give a sigh, and unconsciously chew on your bottom lip before coming to a decision. Since it was about solving the problem before anyone else was hurt, like say, your own children, it was time to fill the boys in, "okay, listen, I can probably get you some face time with the owners...more detailed history on the previous families..."
Dean raised a brow and said knowingly, "Really..."
You smirk and answer petulantly, "yes...really...but you already knew that...the clerk had to have mentioned that those names we looked up...that those people-distant relatives on my grandmothers side..."
"Yeah, ya' mighta' wanted to have mentioned that part when we were having that little Q & A last night..." Dean snarked.
"I would have mentioned that when it was relevant..." you shoot back with equal impatience.
"And would that have been before or after we ran into the Casper the blood thirsty ghost.." Dean snapped back.
"Do you want help with this case or not...I can make sure you don't get anywhere near that property..." you snap back angrily.
"Do you want anyone else to die...cause that's what gonna happen it we don't get to the bottom of this..." Dean growled, leaning forward in his seat and waving a finger in your face.
"That's enough..." Sam said quickly, waving a hand between you and Dean, "Dean, back off..." Sam snapped at his brother before turning to me, "look...I'm sure you are just as interested in stopping whatever is going on out there as we are..."
"Yeah, but I have a reason..." you shoot back, crossing your arms and falling back into the seat and eying the two younger men pointedly, "you...don't know your angle...you could prove just as dangerous as the ghost."
Quirking his head a little sideways to shoot a quick look to his brother, Dean smirked, "well, you got that part right..."
You return his smirk and reply with sarcasm, "Not exactly making a good case for me helping you get on the property..."
Sam looked at you, his brow furrowed in confusion, "I know you told the clerk that you were doing genealogical research...but why exactly...what's your real interest in all of this...your last name isn't Toomey or Spencer?"
So their research had stopped at the basics; but there was no reason to delve further into the genealogy of the current owners at this point, "The owner of the property...is my father..."
/Supernatural/
a/n: so, for thefew people who occasionally give this story a read...it may seem like I don't like Dean, when in fact he is my fav. character. I guess its because I am as snarky as he is, a big sister myself and while I am not all that comfortable handling weapons...I am accustomed to being around them and they don't particularly frighten me. And really, Dean doesn't scare me...he's a snarky ass to the general populace, but you only see his hard, cold & dangerous hunter side when he's actually working (or Sam's threatened)...
...two, three chapters tops should finish off this story experiment...
...also Toomey is pronounced- "two-me" & it is an actual family name that I have seen on tombstones throughout my fathers country property...
