"Come on, Sammy, let's get some sleep," Dean said as he reached out and shook Sam's shoulder. Dean sighed and glanced at his watch, unsurprised to see it was already after seven o'clock in the morning.
Sam sat up slowly rubbing his eyes tiredly; nodding at Dean, he slid out of the car and headed toward their room. Dean followed every bit as sleepy, and wanting nothing more than a hot shower. The grime of the house seemed to have rubbed off on him and he found himself itching to be clean.
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Dean awoke to the sound of the shower, glancing blearily at his watch he noted that it was after noon. Letting his hand rest covering his eyes, he groaned with weariness, four hours of sleep, in two days, just wasn't enough. Dropping his arm as he heard the bathroom door open, but not bothering to open his eyes, Dean called out to his brother, "Any coffee, Dude?"
Sam grinned and shrugged into his tee shirt, sitting on the end of Dean's bed to pull on his shoes and socks, he said, "On the table waiting for you." Sam watched as his brother climbed wearily out of bed. Dean stretched his arms up over his head, wincing in pain. Frowning Sam asked, "What's wrong?"
Ignoring Sam's question, Dean grabbed his coffee, taking a sip he groaned in pleasure. "God, that hits the spot, where'd you get it?" Dean opened his duffle and pulled out a change of clothes and his kit.
Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's evasion tactics. The coffee had come from a vending machine in the lobby and had roughly the same taste and texture as sludge. Not that Sam was in the habit of drinking sludge, but he figured it would taste only slightly better than the coffee. "Vending machine, so why the face. Are you injured or just getting old?" Sam snarked hoping to anger his brother into a response.
Dean grimaced. "I didn't make a face. I'm fine, just a little tight in the shoulders is all. As for getting old, I can still kick your ass so you'd better watch what you say." Dean walked into the bathroom effectively cutting off the conversation.
Sam jerked on his shoes, pulling the laces tight as a realization hit him. He couldn't believe he was so stupid, no one, not even Dean managed to catch a grown man in mid-air and not pull a couple of muscles. Sam stood up and rifled through the first aid kit, pulled out the aspirin and set it next to Dean's coffee. Opening his laptop, the first thing he looked up was the local library. Jotting down the address, he began researching the property.
Dean stood under the hot spray flexing his shoulder and back, he'd hoped a shower would help ease the pain and stiffness that seemed to start in his shoulder and end near his elbow. Dean had pulled many muscles over the years and he knew the only thing that helped were a couple of aspirin and a hot shower. Groaning as the hot water cascaded down his back, loosening tight muscles, he found himself thankful that Sam had left him some hot water. As the water finally began running cold, he reluctantly turned it off and got out. Toweling off, he swiped a hand across the mirror and set about shaving. He found himself grinning as he listened to Sam's fingers fly across the computer keys. Now, they'd make some progress, Dean thought.
Dean emerged ten minutes later, still feeling sore, but nothing too major. As he gathered up his jacket and keys, he noted the aspirin bottle resting next to his coffee. Dean smiled and popped a couple of the pills, washing them down with the coffee. "Thanks, Sammy," Dean said as he motioned his little brother toward the door. "Let's find something to eat, and maybe some coffee that doesn't have an oil slick floating on top."
Sam laughed and moved past his brother out into the heat of the day. Settling into the Impala, Sam turned toward his brother and grinned. "Found us a place to eat, it's a little bar down on the south side of town. Can't guarantee we won't end up with food poisoning but at least we'll avoid your stalker."
Dean released a pent up breath and said, "Oh, thank god. I was debating just how long I could go without eating." Dean put the car in gear and pulled out onto the road.
As Dean parked at the tiny bar, with a sign proclaiming Jumpin' Joe's, Sam could only roll his eyes. He'd been kidding Dean about the food poisoning, but looking at the place now he wasn't so sure. He watched as Dean climbed out of the car, an intent look on his face. Sighing, Sam joined his brother as they crossed the parking lot.
Dean held the door open for Sam, lifting an eyebrow as his little brother passed him. "Hope you like a little food with your grease, Sam." Dean teased his health conscious little brother. The Winchesters made their way up to the bar, both brothers automatically opting to sit at the far end, facing the other patrons and the entrance. Looking around for a menu, Dean noticed it scrawled in chalk on a board above the bar.
"Awww, Sorry, Sam, no grilled chicken or salad on the list," Dean said. Upon catching a glimpse of the barmaid that was walking toward them, Dean actually allowed his forehead to thump against the bar. Turning his head, he exchanged bewildered glances with Sam. The bleach blonde barmaid, who's nametag read Mandy, had brown eyes rimmed in mascara, blue eye shadow, and lips outlined in hot pink. And, other than the obvious age difference, could have been twins with Candy. Dean watched nonplussed as the waitress thoroughly checked out the two brothers. Leaning forward over the bar, she allowed them a, not so subtle, view of her hot pink bra.
"Let me guess you boys are out of towners, right?" Twirling a lock of blond hair around her finger Mandy continued, "Yep, gotta be cause I've never seen you in here before and trust me when I say I'd remember you two," the outspoken woman said with a wink.
Dean drew a deep breath and desperately pulled his eyes away from the woman's gaping cleavage. "Can we get a couple of beers and two of the cheeseburger specials?" Dean kept his reply curt hoping it would send the older woman on her way. Older woman, hell, Mandy was old enough to be Sam's mom.
Mandy looked slightly taken aback at the handsome man's offhand reply. Shrugging in a huff, she went to fetch two bottles from the cooler. Moments later, she set a bottle in front of each of the men. Ready to try again, she nonchalantly shrugged her low cut tee a little lower. Leaning even farther over the bar, she said, "So, anyway you didn't say, are you guys just passing through or looking to settle down around here. Cause, I'm telling you, we're really friendly around here."
Sam could feel his eyes, drawn once again back to Mandy's impressive chest. Finally, in desperation he rudely turned his back on her and said, "Can we get that food to go?"
Dean nodded in agreement and turned his back on the barmaid. Watching the girl flounce away in a huff, Dean whispered, "What are the chances that Mandy and Candy are related. I just can't tell if they're mother and daughter or sisters." Dean shivered theatrically. "Smart thinking take-out we're better off eating in the car."
Sam nodded his agreement and said, "We'd better get this job over with, or else we're going to run out of places to eat."
Dean snorted and said, "How many more of them can there be?" Turning toward the barmaid as she brought out two brown bags, Dean paid for the food and beer and then left a generous tip. Nodding tightly, he followed Sam outside once again into the bright afternoon light.
Dean drove one handed, a cheeseburger gripped in his other, toward the town library. Taking a bite, he was once again surprised at just how good it was. Even Sam had been hard pressed to complain about the food. "So, Sam, I know you're dying to share with the class. What'd you find out, this morning?"
Sam wiped his hands on a napkin and pulled out his notes, reading them over he gave Dean a general overview of what he'd learned. "Alright, the house was built in 1942, the grounds seem clean, and nothing existed on the land before construction began. A man named Howard Demonte built it for his wife and three children. Unfortunately, no one ever occupied it; the family moved in the spring of 1950, stayed one night, and abandoned the property the next day. No explanations, they never returned and the home has remained abandoned ever since."
Dean frowned. "They spent one night in the place, did they disappear, or did they just take off?"
"I found references of Howard after 1950. After that apparently he became a recluse, giving control of his corporation to his VP, he faded into the background. I'm not sure about his family though, I can't find any mention of them after they left the house. To be honest I can't even tell for sure if they did leave the house. Apparently the Demontes' were new to the area and no one thought anything of it when they just up and left." Sam took another bite of his burger, chewing thoughtfully, he continued, "Maybe Howard went all 'Shining' on them and no one ever found out."
Dean nodded and said, "That would explain the presence. Makes you wonder if he was driven to kill them or if he was just ten kinds of crazy."
Sam shook his head, looking up from the notes he was reading, he stared at Dean in question as his brother brought the Impala to a stop in front of a tiny cape cod home. He heard his brother snort in laughter as he pullled up alongside the curb.
"No, this can't be right. It's not possible, I mean it's a joke right." Sam's voice had risen an octave and it was all Dean could do to remain upright as the laughter ripped through him.
Sam ignored his brother's amusement and stared at the small hand carved sign stuck in the ground in front of the building, Furlong Public Library. "No, there's no way this is the library" Sam hadn't even realized he'd spoken out loud until he heard Dean's answer.
"Sorry, Sam, this is it." Dean was still laughing. He took the glare that Sam sent him with a shrug of his shoulders and led the way into the small house.
Sam and Dean exchanged a look as they stood in the doorway of the library, one large room, that had probably at one time been both the living room and dining room, was spread out before the brothers. Bookshelves lined all four walls and reached the eight-foot ceilings. Stacks of shelves outlined the walls, leaving the center of the room, for tables and chairs. Looking left, Sam saw the check out desk. Approaching the elderly woman that appeared to be napping behind the counter, Sam cleared his throat loudly.
Dean looked at the grey haired woman that sat in a straight-backed chair hands, folded on a corpulent waist, chin resting on her chest. She'd shown no sign of waking at Sam's delicate cough. Dean waited one more minute before leaning forward and ringing the bell that sat on the counter.
At the sound of the bell, the woman sat up straight and smiled brightly at the Winchesters. Sam couldn't help but return her smile. With a wink the little woman slid from the chair and said, "You boys caught me napping, heat of the day you know, can't resist a little cat nap." Placing her hands on the counter in front of her she said, "Now, what can I do you for?"
Sam smiled and asked, "We're reporters with the Free Press and we're doing a story on the Mansion. I was hoping you might have the back issues of the local paper."
At mention of the Mansion, the old woman's eyes lit up. "Ohh, it's been years since anyone asked about that old place. No need for you to strain your eyes over old newsprint though, I can tell you anything you need to know about the place. Why I've lived here the better part of seventy years. My name's Carol Potts, by the way." Carol shook hands with the two young men.
"My names Sam and this is Dean, we'd appreciate anything you could tell us," Sam said taking out his notepad.
Carol laughed. "Nonsense, I'm not going to gossip sitting in this old place. Let's go out onto the porch, I've just made a batch of sun-tea, and a lemon iced cake." Carol moved out from behind the counter and walked to the front door, flipping the 'yes we're open sign' to closed, she led the way towards the back of the room. Gesturing for the brother's to follow, she asked over her shoulder "So, what do you know so far?"
Sam quickly outlined what he'd learned, earning a nod from the elderly woman. "You've done your homework, Young Man. But I've got to tell you, you don't know half of what happened all those years ago." Turning with a wink, she continued, "It was your lucky day, coming here."
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Dean sat in a rocking chair; the mid afternoon sun blocked from view by the wide porch roof and happily ate his second slice of lemon cake. Smiling in contentment, he took a sip of his tea, and leaned back in his chair.
Carol settled herself on an old white rocker and set the chair moving; setting down her own empty plate she sat back and began.
"Howard Demonte was a coal man. Made his fortune several times over here in Pennsylvania, his wife Maryanne and his three young boys lived in Harrisburg. Howie himself moved around from mine to mine, overseeing the company. After a while, I guess he got it in his head that he needed a home that reflected his monetary status. Though, from what I heard if he'd built a house that reflected his morality it would have been a one room shack." Carol nodded firmly.
"Yep, the man was a bastard and like so many others his fortune was built off of the sweat and blood of others. Well, as I said he wanted to build a home for his family, only he didn't want to settle in Harrisburg, to far of a commute to his mines. So he convinced his wife to build here, rumor has it that she was none too happy to be leaving the state capital. In retaliation, she demanded that he build a home worthy of her status as his wife. Now, I was in my early twenties when construction began, and I believe I was twenty-nine by the time it was finished." Carol's eyes seemed to loose focus as she remembered the house in all its glory.
"I've never seen the like, not even when I traveled to Washington on my twentieth anniversary. The Mansion was incredible, have you boys seen it yet?" At the brother's confirming nods, Carole said, "Pah, you haven't seen anything. I saw it in all it's glory and oh, what a sight it was. The funny thing was that Howard and Maryanne never came to look at the place as it was being built. Oh, they had an architect and a supervisor that made sure their ideas were carried out, but they never came to town to see it. It was finally finished and furnished on May 16, 1950 and many about these parts speculated that the Demonte family would host an open house. We all found ourselves hoping that they would." Carol returned her gaze to the two men sitting before her.
"See the people in this town spent the better part of eight years, watching the house rise from the ground. It was a regular occurrence for people to head on over there on a Sunday afternoon to picnic in the shade of the maple trees, and admire the work that had been accomplished that week." Carole blushed prettily. "Why that's how I met my Charlie, he was there with another young lady, and I had accompanied another young man. We met when a group of young people started a game of hide and seek in the frame work of the house."
"Anyway, we all watched the procession, known as the Demonte family. Cars and trucks rolled in laden with their belongings, not to mention a gleaming black Cadillac that carried the family. They hired a host of townspeople to unpack their belongings, my girlfriend Mabel was one of the lucky ones. She spent the day making up the family beds and unpacking the linens. She used to reminisce about that house, and just how beautiful it was inside. Years later her husband Russ, built her a miniature version of the house and Mabel lived there happily for forty-five years." Carol smiled as she remembered her friend's excitement at being able to see inside of the house.
"And the next day?" Sam asked.
"Well, Son, your guess is as good as mine. No one knows what happened, the next morning old man Demonte called the staff together, paid them and dismissed them. Some folks said they could see his family sitting in that black caddy, sure, as you please. And others claimed that the family was nowhere in sight. From that day on it was as if the place was cursed. Every year it became more overgrown, and derelict. Real shame it was to watch it become nothing more than a place for youngings to gather and cause mischief." Carol smiled sadly and said, "Never seemed right to me, you know, just letting it go. It always seemed as if that house deserved a family to love it and grow old in it." Carol sat back in her seat rocking slowly, contemplating the years that had gone by since she'd last sent the house.
Dean leaned forward slightly. "You said that there was a staff. Do you know who might have been on it and if any are still located around here?"
Carolf frowned thoughtfully. "I'll be honest, I'm not sure, but Russ would know, Mabel's husband he was a forman on the construction and he helped fill postitions in the household. I could ask him, he's living over at Gentle Pines, but I have a number for him." Carol stood and said, "I'll tell you what, I'll give him a call tonight and see what he can remember. You two stop by tomorrow and I'll let you know what I found, now do you like chocolate?" Carol questioned intently.
Dean just grinned, planted a kiss on her wrinkled cheek, and with a wink he said, "We'll be here, and we both love chocolate." Dean bent down to allow Carol to pat his cheek.
"Oh, you're a rascal, Dean, I can tell. Now indulge an old lady and take a piece of this cake back home with you. I shouldn't eat anymore and if it's here I'll eat it."
Sam sat with the cake in his lap and admitted that even he hadn't been willing to let it get thrown out. He also found himself happy that it would serve as breakfast tomorrow morning, letting them off the hook to find a place to eat.
Dean glanced over at Sam and warned, "You be careful with that cake. I don't want to take the wrap off only to find all the icing stuck to it."
Sam rolled his eyes. "I think I can handle holding a cake. Now, where to next?"
Dean was already heading for the highway, "I figure we should pay a little visit to the last two victims. Maybe they can shed a little light on what they saw."
Sam grinned wickidly. "I don't know how you can expect them to, when you weren't able."
Dean scowled as he gunned the engine, effectively cutting off his brothers laughter.
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"I'm sorry who are you?" The brown haired secretary stared up at the two gentlemen before her in confusion.
Sam removed his brown hat and held it in his hands. "We're wildlife rangers, we're here to speak with Chrissie Smith and Janey Drake."
"We just have a couple of questions about the incident two weeks ago, we're concerned there may be a bear in the area," Dean said in a confident voice.
The secretary, Mrs. Hall, her nameplate read, put a hand to her chest. "Oh, my well of course the girls should be in study hall right now anyway. I'll have them brought here right away."
Sam and Dean nodded their thanks as they watched the secretary leave the office and head down the crowded hallway. Sam turned toward Dean and asked, "Do they have bears in this part of the state?"
Dean shrugged and said, "Better than saying a rabid dog, that'll set off a panic. This way people are looking for a bear that doesn't exsist."
Sam snorted at Dean's logic, watching as the secretary once again entered the office accompanied by two young teenage girls. Turning toward them he smiled slightly, Thanking Mrs. Hall he motioned for the girls to follow him away from the secretary's desk.
"Ladies, we're Rangers with park services, we wanted to speak with the two of you about what you saw up at the Mansion." Sam noted twin looks of distress on the girls' faces.
Dean said in a low comforting voice, "We know you saw something. Now, the thing is we need to know what it was, no matter how odd it may sound."
Chrissie and Janey exchanged glances for a few moments, finally Chrissie said, "I barely saw anything, my back was toward it almost the whole time. When I did finally face it, the shadows kept me from seeing much. Like I told the police, I'm not even sure what I saw."
Janey swallowed audibly and said, "It was big and black. And it's eyes were huge, it was growling and snarling and came at us from inside the house."
Sam nodded. "Big, is that like a Labrador retriever big or like a bear big?"
Janey frowned and said, "I've never seen a bear, but it was definitely bigger than a dog. I mean, even a big dog, I know this wont' make sense, but it looked almost as big as a small pony."
Sam watched as Dean nodded in confirmation, sighing he turned back toward the girls and said, "Is there anything else you can tell us about the house itself, strange sounds, cold spots, maybe a feeling like you were being watched?"
Chrissie glanced at the officers and frowned; shaking her head, she said, "No, nothing like that."
Dean stepped forward and said, "Alright then, we appreciate your time. You can go back to class." Dean watched as the girls turned to leave the office, calling out suddenly he said, "And remember, from now on out, no haunted houses alright. That's a good place to find yourselves in a mess of trouble." Dean nodded in satisfaction as the two girls nodded solemnly and headed out the door.
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"Crap, Dean, is that what you saw?" Sam shook his head at his brother's affirming nod.
Dean merged the black car back into traffic and began looking for a place to eat dinner before they were back inside the town limits. "Yeah, at the time I hadn't thought of it, but now, hearing their accounts, I gotta say yeah."
Sam slouched down on the bench seat and watched as the scenery flashed by his window. "Damn, a Black Dog. Well, that can't be good."
Dean looked over at his brother and lifted an eyebrow. "You got that right."