It was early morning when the knock sounded loudly at the door. The ratt-a-tatt-tatt started softer, but grew louder when there wasn't an answer the first time it sounded.
Dean threw a pillow from his bed towards Sam, uttering "Your turn," as he rolled over and fell back to sleep. With much protest Sam pulled on his trousers and went to the door. He opened it a fraction, just enough for Shooks to invite himself in. He smelt of roll-up cigarette smoke and greasy food.
"Morning, boys," He stated in a dry voice more chipper than he felt. He took his hat off and placed it on the table; quickly followed by his precious Ray-Bans. The boys had seen the truth of his eyes all ready so there was little point in hiding it from them further. His head was suffering from a case of hat hair and he hadn't looked like he'd slept all night; he hadn't, but that was beside the point.
"It's 6am," Sam tried to protest, putting on the most whiney voice he could muster.
"Really?" Shooks asked with a raised brow, making his way uninvited to the mini-fridge. He hadn't had a drink in the last twenty-four hours and that was worse than a lack of sleep. "Did you figure anything out?" He asked Sam, ignoring the hour and wanting to get any business concluded before he attempted sleeping on the back seat of the Buick. He unscrewed the cap of a 25ml bottle of Famous Grouse, normally he'd prefer ice and a glass but he'd for-go the formality under the circumstances.
Sam wiped his face with his hand, trying to think what they'd got figured.
"Not really," muttered Dean from underneath his bed sheet. "Just that bees aren't dangerous." He added to his utterings.
"I got something," Shooks confessed, not keeping the boys in suspense. "Not had any time to look into it too much, been watching a house all night; caught someone red-handed cheating. Partner was pissed and somehow ended up trying to blame me and duck out on payment. Anyway, all of the deceased were investing in a building project; not sure on the details yet."
"How does a homeless man invest?" Sam asked, sitting down at the table. Recalling one of the dead, that didn't seem to make much sense.
"It seemed to be one of those, pay-what-you-will things. Community project of some sorts possibly?" he suggested, "Like I said, not had the time to run everything yet." With that statement he brought the bottle up to drink from. "Aside from that one guy, anyway. Links all the others though," It was sloppy work even for him, but at least he'd brought something to the table.
"The one whose family Bobby went to see?" Sam asked dumbly.
"Which one was that?" Shooks asked, seeing as he had no idea which family it was. He'd not been here.
"The... Richmond family," Sam recalled.
"That's the one," Shooks returned slumping down on one of the dining chairs.
"The family seemed to suggest that was a natural death," Dean put in, he wasn't sure if he believed it. "Allergic or something."
"Possible," Shooks shrugged once again non-committally. "There's more to this investment than I've got though, it'll take some more digging but it's a lead. The second victim, not the homeless, the one with the nice house in suburbia land," He paused taking out a notebook from his overcoat pocket to look at his notes. "Mr. Benjamin Frank – should have remembered that name -" He said with a note of irony even through the barely stifled yawn "Seems he'd put a lot of money on this though, and I mean a lot. More than the three of us make in a year, sort of figures. You seen his family yet?" Shooks asked.
"Only the body," Sam stated.
"Let me get a couple of hours," Shooks said once again making his way to the door. Seems like the three of them had a trip to make. "We'll see what he has to say,"
Sam gave Dean a glance to say that he didn't like the implication – but John Shooks had once again vanished before they could voice any protest; and the prospect of a couple of hours sleep was welcome after the rude awakening.