Missing

Missoula, Montana

July 4, 2007

"Agent Denver and Agent Clark. We're looking for an Elizabeth Martin. Do you know where we can find her?" Sam and Dean held out their fake badges to the shopkeeper at the local grocery store.

"Yeah, isn't her father the mechanic? Larry Martin? They do their shopping here, yeah. But I don't know where they live. Why don't you ask Dave over at Dave's Mechanics? He was Larry's partner. Just down the street." He pointed.

"Thank you."

Crossing the street, Sam and Dean found the mechanic shop, entering the garage and looking around for Dave. Dean inhaled the scent of oil and rubber, thinking back to his dad's mechanic shop – before he had become a hunter. "Are you the Dave of Dave's Mechanics?" Dean asked as a middle-aged man strode into the garage from a side office.

"Yeah, that's me."

"Agent Denver and Agent Clark. We're looking for Elizabeth Martin. I hear you know her."

"Yeah, I know her. Good girl. I work with her father, Larry Martin." Dave looked worried. "She's not in any trouble is she? She'd never break any laws-"

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Dean assured him. "We're just looking into her friend's murder, and we needed to ask her a few questions."

"Oh, yeah, awful business. I hope you catch the guy."

"We believe we're getting close. Anyway, if you could just give us the Martin's address…."

"Sure." He grabbed a scrap of paper and jotted down the address. "I hope everything's okay. Elizabeth came back a couple days ago. She seemed really worried about her family. I hadn't seen Larry in a few days. I figured he'd gone down to visit her what with the murder and all, but she said no, he hadn't been there. Said she'd call me when she got home, but she never did. Larry hasn't come in to work yet. I'm real worried. No one answers the phone. I would go out there, but I'm just busted here without help. Larry isn't one to flake out on work. I hope he's okay."

"Well, we'll let you know." Sam took the scrap of paper with the address.

"Just drive out of town and turn right at the third driveway," Dave instructed.

"Thanks for your help."

The two brothers left the garage, heading toward where the Impala was parked. "See, she's missing, Dean," Sam said as soon as they pulled away from the street. "I knew something was wrong."

"Yeah, it looks that way." Dean headed out of town, his apprehension growing as they neared the Martin's house.

"Third drive, that's it."

Dean pulled into the dirt driveway, heading slowly up to the house. "It's far back. Anything could have happened without anyone noticing."

Sam jumped out of the car before Dean even stopped, running up the steps and ringing the doorbell. Dean approached, surveying the yard. He noted the newspaper build up near the porch. Nudging Sam's arm, he pointed the papers out. Sam exchanged a look with him and then tried the door. It was unlocked. Sam pushed open the door, pulling out his gun and stepping noiselessly into the house. Dean followed suit, looking around outside before closing the door behind them. The hardwood floor beneath their feet creaked slightly as they stepped further into the house. Dean motioned for Sam to go right while he went left.

Entering the living room, Sam noted a plate with a half eaten sandwich. As he stepped cautiously forward, he smelled a whiff of rotting meat. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he noted the moldy bread and the flies buzzing around the rotting sandwich. A half a cup of coffee sat next to it. This can't be good, he thought to himself, worry gnawing at him. He approached the window, looking for signs of sulfur. The sills were clean though slightly dusty.

Dean entered the dining room, holding his gun out before him. The room was orderly, all the chairs pushed in, nothing out of place. A buzzing sound came from the next room. He stepped forward, walking silently across the room in three steps. The door to the next room was slightly ajar and a rancid smell was coming from behind it. He jumped slightly as Sam appeared at his shoulder.

"Some rotting food in the living room," Sam told him quietly. "The rest of the downstairs is clean."

"Be ready," Dean told him as the pushed the door open. They stepped quickly into the kitchen. Dean observed a small radio buzzing in the corner as it tried to pick up a station. The smell was nearly overwhelming as he neared the kitchen table. "Oh," he exclaimed, peering around the table. He held a hand over his mouth and nose. Sam moved closer, his hand also held over his nose. "That's just…." Dean peered down at the two dead bodies. "Elizabeth's parents?" he asked Sam.

Sam looked around. "Where's Elizabeth?" he asked, panic edging his voice.

"Maybe she saw the bodies and left," Dean suggested. "It's enough to drive someone away."

"She would have called us," Sam insisted. "And she would have made arrangements for them, not just left them there." Silently, Dean agreed.

"Okay, you check the upstairs, I'll finish looking around here." He approached the kitchen window, spotting a powdery substance. "Sulfur," he muttered, running his fingers through the powder. He gazed around the room, but nothing else caught his eyes. He skirted the bodies and the thick pools of blood. Meeting Sam at the base of the stairs, he saw a pained look on his brother's face.

"She's not here," Sam said.

"She could still be alive," Dean replied hopefully. "Maybe whoever killed her parents took her. I found sulfur in the kitchen."

"Demons?"

"Possibly." Dean sighed.

"We have to find her, Dean," Sam said fiercely.

"We have no idea where to start searching though. The demons won't have left a bread trail leading us straight to her. We'll see what we can do," he added. "Alright, let's find a hotel in the meantime." Dean pulled out his cell phone, dialing 911. "Yes, I'd like to report two bodies." He gave the address. "My name? It's-" He hung up before answering, shoving his phone back into his jacket pocket. "Alright, let's wipe our prints and go."

Ten minutes later they checked into the Sky Hotel, booking a double room for the night.

Sam sat down on one of the beds, pulling his computer out of his bag. "In the last two weeks there have been signs of demons here," he told Dean. "Electrical storms, a few cattle mutilations. Not enough to really hit the big news, but a demon certainly passed through here."

"It's not like demons to leave a person alive, but I think if Elizabeth were dead she would have been lying on the floor with her parents," Dean replied. "Maybe she had something they wanted."

"Like what?" Sam questioned.

"I'm still working on that." Dean sat down on the other bed, lying back and closing his eyes. He didn't see why the demons would have killed Elizabeth's parents in the first place. As far as he knew, they were just a normal family. Then again, he thought, when do demons ever make sense?

Dean's thoughts were interrupted when there was a knock on the hotel door. He glanced up suspiciously.

"Who could that be?" Sam asked. He shut his computer screen and set it aside, tucking a gun into his jacket.

Dean moved toward the door, another gun stowed in his pocket. He peered through the peephole in the door. The distorted face of Dave the mechanic came into view. He turned back to Sam, mouthing the mechanic's name. Sam furrowed his brow.

"What would he want?" he asked. "How did he even know we're here?" He stood, grabbing a small silver flask filled with holy water.

Dean opened the door a crack. "Dave, what brings you here?" he asked.

"I couldn't help but notice you pulling in here on my way home. I just wanted to make sure the Martins are all right. Can I come in?" Dean pulled the door open wider, allowing the man to enter the room. "FBI can't provide you with a better hotel?" he asked, glancing around the room at the bright blue walls covered in white clouds.

Dean glanced at Sam wondering how much he should tell the man. "Did you notice anything suspicious in the last few weeks?" he asked. "Anyone new in town?"

Dave threw him a confused look. "It's a big town. I can't keep track of every newcomer. Although there was a couple who stopped in just about the time Larry stopped coming into work. They were having some car troubles. I'd never seen them in town before. Said they were just passing through. But what does that have to do with Larry?"

"Larry Martin and his wife are dead. Their daughter is missing."

Dave looked shock, his mouth hanging open. "Dead?"

"Murdered, we believe," Dean added, carefully watching the man's expression.

"Murdered? Who'd want to murder a nice couple like them?" Dave sat down at the small table near the window. "Although," he spoke in a strangely calm voice, "they had it coming." He turned to look at Sam and Dean, black pupils filling the whole of his eyes.