Chapter Nine
About a fortnight later, Sally absent-mindedly doodled on the piece of paper before her. She was sitting in the shop that her aunts owned and was supposed to be serving any customers that came in. Gillian was in the back somewhere, stacking boxes.
Sally had been delighted when the aunts had asked her to become manager.
Up until that, her job had been hunting with Gillian and she still loved doing that but sometimes she just wished that she could have a normal life, with a normal job and a house and a car and a family, and not have to endure the whispers and stares that plagued all the Owens women in their little coastal town in New England.
The bell above the door jangled and she looked up as a woman came in. She quickly glanced around and seeing that nobody was in the shop except for Sally, she hurried over.
"I-I need your help," the woman asked, still darting looks around the shop.
"Of course," Sally replied smiling at her. "What's the problem?" she asked.
They owned a health shop, which the aunts had set up many years ago. It was a bright airy place, and they sold their own home-made remedies for common ailments as well as shampoos and other toiletries. But the people of the town only visited their shop if they were in dire need of help. Their only regular customers were the tourists that visited the area or people that were from out of town and weren't aware of the Owens women story.
But every once in a while, a local townsperson would arrive, seeking help that only the Owens women could give them. And this was the kind of help the woman was looking for.
"It's about a-a man I know," the woman stammered.
Sally then realised what it was the woman wanted. "I understand," she replied.
"You'll have to come back later. Go to my aunts house. You know where it is?" Sally asked.
The woman nodded her head quickly. It was a stupid question to ask. All local people knew where the Owens women lived.
"Come to the house at 10 o'clock and we can help you," Sally told her.
Just then Gillian came in from the back. When the woman saw her she quickly nodded her head at Sally and left.
"What was that all about?" Gillian asked, dropping what she was carrying beside the counter.
"She needs help from the aunts," Sally explained to her.
"Oh, another one that wants to steal somebody's husband and make him fall in love with her so they can be together forever?" Gillian asked sighing and rolling her eyes.
"Yeah," Sally replied. "But stop being so callous about it. She's obviously lonely," she scolded.
"Oh, Sal, come on, she's desperate. I mean why can't she just go out and find a guy in a bar or something like everybody else. Why does she have to turn to us? I mean normally she'd probably turn away when she'd see us in the street. Some people are just so hypocritical," Gillian exclaimed.
"Oh and you're a saint when it comes to the love department?" Sally asked sarcastically.
"It's not my fault men find me irresistible," Gillian replied grinning. Sally smiled back at her shaking her head.
"Come on, it's time to lock up," she told her.
xxxxxx
Later on, as they sat in the kitchen, the aunts told them about a new case they had heard of. "An old friend of ours called us earlier," Francis explained.
"By old friend, you don't happen to mean boyfriend, do you?" Gillian mocked her aunt.
"Hahaha, Gillian," Francis said sarcastically.
"Jerry Panowski is just a friend of ours from a long time back, is all," Jetty insisted.
Gillian smirked at her aunts while Sally shook her head. "So what's the case?" she asked them.
"Well, it's not too far from here. Cataning, Pennsylvania," Jetty replied.
"Do you remember that plane that crashed a few days ago? It was on the news, United Britannia, Flight 2485? Well, Jerry works for Britannia and he got a hold of the cockpit voice recorder for that flight. He reckons it has something of a supernatural feel to it," Francis explained.
Sally nodded. "Wait a minute. How did he know to call you guys?" Gillian asked them suspiciously.
"He doesn't happen to know about our big family secret, does he?" Gillian asked them.
Francis and Jetty looked at one another. "Okay, so he know we're hunters but he doesn't know that we're -?"
Gillian was cut off by her aunt.
"Yes, Gilly, he knows all about what we are," Francis exclaimed. Jetty nodded her head.
"But Jerry understands. He's not afraid. He doesn't believe all the rumours that circulate about us," Francis told them.
"Come on, Gilly, it's not that big a deal," Sally told her sister.
"Yeah, well, as long as he doesn't tell anyone else. You know what kind of a reputation we have," Gillian said, disgruntledly.
"Speaking of which, he wanted something," Francis told them.
"Oh, yes," Jetty said.
She stood up and reaching into one of the storage shelves, she took down a jar of what looked like mushed up leaves. She handed it to Sally.
"Give him this when you see him," she told them. Sally looked at it.
"Rosemary and lavender?" she asked.
"He wanted some protection on his home so we whipped up this for him," Francis explained.
Sally nodded and slipped it into her bag.
xxxxxx
That was why they found themselves in the large building housing United Britannia's company headquarters, later on that day.
"We're looking for Jerry Panowski, please," Sally told the man in the reception desk.
"Yeah, just a minute," he said without looking up.
Sally looked at her sister. Gillian frowned and stood up towards the counter.
"Look, buddy, we'd really appreciate it if you help'd us out," she told him.
The man looked up, annoyed, but when his gaze landed on the two women in front of him, the look disappeared. Gillian smiled at him and the man stood up, a wide smile on his face.
"Just follow me and I'll bring you to his office," he told them, stepping out from behind his desk and gesturing for them to follow him. He began to walk down a corridor.
Gillian shot a triumphant look to her sister and followed the man. Sally rolled her eyes, a smile appearing on her face as she also followed the man.
He led them down the corridor where he stopped in front of a door at the end. "Here you go, ladies," he said.
"Thank you," Sally said and they waited until he started to back down the corridor before knocking on the door.
"Come in," a voice from inside called out.
Gillian pushed open the door.
They were surprised to see Sam and Dean sitting in front of Jerry's desk.
"Sam? Dean?" Gillian said in surprise. Jerry stood up.
"I'm sorry. Who are you?" he asked.
"I'm Sally Owens and this is my sister Gillian," Sally stepped forward. "We're Francis and Jetty's nieces," she continued.
"Oh of course," Jerry said. "I'm so glad you came. You seem to already know who Sam and Dean are. I'm sorry but I called everybody I knew who dealt with this kind of thing," he explained.
"Here, have a seat," he told them.
Sally and Gillian sat down beside Sam and Dean. Sally noticed how tired looking Sam was and she felt sorry for him. He caught her looking and he gave her a weak smile. She returned it.
Jerry had picked up a CD and he placed it in the player. "I listened to this and it sounded like it was right up your alley. Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia Flight 2485. It was one of ours," he finished sitting back in his chair.
They all listened as the CD began to play. "Mayday, mayday," it said. The noise of a plane engine could be heard in the background. There was a slight crackle in the recording also.
"This is United Britannia Flight 2485 requesting immediate help. We may be experiencing some kind of mechanical failure," the captain's voice cut out and a low roar was emitted from the speakers before the tape stopped.
"Took off from here, crashed about 200 miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. The cabin de-pressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over 100 people on board. Only 7 got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh, well, he's pretty broken up about it, like it was his fault," Jerry explained to them.
"You don't think it was," Sam said.
"No, I don't," Jerry agreed.
"Jerry, we're going to need passenger manifests, a list of survivors…" Gillian said. Dean nodded in agreement.
"Right, uh, anyway we could look at the wreckage," he asked.
Jerry looked at them. "The other stuff is no problem, but the wreckage, the fella's at NTSB have it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance," Jerry informed them.
Dean nodded. "No problem," he said.
