"Aw crap," Sam complains, looking up from the newspaper her held. Rubbing at her eyes, Liza scoots her chair closer to his so she can see his paper. After three hours spent in deep research, her poor brain was screaming for fresh coffee and some food. "It's this obituary, Liza." She reads over it quickly, her eyes slowly widening further and further until they probably looked ready to pop right out.
"Aw crap."
"Yeah, this is gonna suck." She glances over her shoulder to make sure the angry-looking librarian wasn't lurking in the stacks before bringing out her pocket knife and cutting the obituary out of the paper. "This right here is the reason librarians hate you. I'm surprised they don't have a wanted poster of you hanging in every library."
"Suck it up, Sammy." She tucks the knife and slip of paper back into her purse before standing up with one last look around. "Let's put all this crap back up so we can get some food."
"You mean meet up with Dean?"
"No, I mean I need food or I'm gonna turn into a Gremlin." He snorts, grabbing the stack of newspapers in front of him before both of them head towards the filing cabinets, stuffing their piles inside as gently as they could to keep the librarian from hunting them down later on. The bitch would do it, too. "How about tacos?"
"I haven't had tacos in forever." She wraps an arm around his waist as they walk out of the library, sliding her sunglasses on the keep the light from blinding her too much. "I think I saw a Taco Bell a few blocks from here. Wanna try that?"
"Sounds good to me." They pile into the car and make the drive, Sam focusing on the road while Liza focused on her book. It wasn't long until they reached the restaurant, deciding on the drive-thru and the biggest box of tacos that the place had so that they didn't have to listen to Dean bitching later on.
"Thank you for choosing Taco Bell," comes the garbled voice over the speaker when Sam's able to pull up to it," how can I help you?"
"Yeah, we need two of your variety taco things," Sam says, leaning his head slightly out the window to make his voice clearer.
"You realize that means you'll have twenty-four tacos, sir?"
"Believe it or not, I know what I want to order. I also need a large water, a large Mountain Dew, and a large Pepsi." There's a moment of silence on the other end and then a loud crackle of static.
"I've got two variety twelve packs of tacos, two soft drinks, and a water. Anything else with that today?" Sam glances at Liza and she shakes her head, sliding her book into the glove compartment so that she can help hold the order. "Alright, do you want all the tacos to be original?"
"Make six of them the Nacho Cheese ones, please."
"Alright, your total's going to be thirty-five dollars and seventeen cents. Please pull up to the window." Sam does just that while Liza pulls out her wallet, handing him the MasterCard she has under her real name. It wouldn't hurt her bank account to spend thirty bucks considering how long it's been building up over the years. Her dad had started it when he found out her mom was pregnant with her and Uncle Bobby took over after Christopher died. The exchange is made quickly and then they're off again, the park they all agreed to meet at coming into view for the third time today. They'd dropped Charlie and Dean off there before going to the library and the pair were still occupying the same bench they had claimed when Sam and Liza drove off.
"What took y'all so long," Dean asks as they get closer, looking at them over his shoulder until they make it in front of him.
"Stopped for lunch," Sam says, holding up both of the bags. "Blondie said she'd go postal if I didn't get her some food." Liza shrugs, passing Dean his soda and settling down on the soft grass with her own drink and a taco. "Charlie, feel free to dig in."
"No thanks," the woman declines with a frown," I don't have an appetite." That happened to everyone the first few times they dive into the paranormal world, but you get past that after a few months. At least, I did anyway.
"So, did you guys find anything?" Sam and Liza pause for a moment, his mouth filled with food and letting him off the hook to explain what they'd found.
"Gary was an eight year old kid," Liza answers with a frown," he was hit by a black Toyota Camry and died at the scene while the person that hit him didn't even stop. Driver got away because nobody got a description of them or the plates. It sucks massive ass that a little boy's life was cut so short." And it really makes me want to call Tanya and tell her to put Lilly on the phone.
"That's the type of car Jill drove." All the color has drained from Charlie's cheeks, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. "It was two years ago, right?" Liza nods, unable to talk since she had a mouthful of food. "Sh-she acted weird for a while, even traded in her car for a different one, but I'd always just thought that she was bored with it." Dean, Sam, and Liza share a look, reluctantly putting away their food.
"Anyone else wanna bet that there's gonna be a name on the back of Shoemaker's mirror, too?" Liza wraps up the rest of her taco and shoves it back into the bag before standing up. "You know, sometimes this job is really inconvenient."
"I feel ya," Dean says, helping his brother up and grabbing one of the bags. "We'll eat on the way there, but y'all better not drip any lettuce on Baby's upholstery." Liza bumps him with her hip, sharing a smile with him as they lead the way back to the Impala. Dean's relationship with that car was probably the healthiest one he's got, which really should explain why he's so messed up. The drive to Donna's house didn't take too long since the town wasn't that big, but Dean drove the speed limit to allow all of their group to finish at least two tacos apiece. Liza probably could've eaten six of them by herself, but she was forced to share with the guys and, eventually, Charlie.
"Doesn't look like anyone's home today," Sam says when they pull up into the driveway.
"Let's just get this over with quickly so I can eat some more," Liza tells them, following Charlie into the house and up the stairs to the murder bathroom. Dean makes quick work of getting the mirror off the wall while Sammy grabbed the black light and Liza flipped off the overhead light. Just like with Jill's mirror, there was a bloody handprint and a name on the back of the frame, though this one hits a bit closer to home for Charlie.
"Linda Shoemaker."
"Care to explain why you guys are lurking in my bathroom," Donna snaps, drawing everyone's attention to the doorway of the bathroom. She was standing there with her arms crossed, looking every inch the pissed off woman that Liza probably would be, too.
"Yeah, but you're not gonna like it," Liza says, nodding as the boys stand up and replace the mirror above the sink. "How about we all go downstairs?"
"No, you can tell me here or I can call the cops."
"Like I haven't heard that before." She lets out an oof of pain when Sam's elbow collides with her side, a little harder than necessary but shutting her up all the same. She glares at him as she rubs the sore spot, fighting back the urge to elbow him back.
"Donna, it's really complicated," Charlie explains, stepping forward so Donna can see her better in the dim lighting," and I'd really appreciate a cup of tea before I get into it again." For a moment, Donna just stands there, her gaze moving over all of them like they were some unpleasant chore. Liza was almost certain that she was about to chase them out of her house with a broom, but then her shoulders drooped and she stepped out of their way.
"Kitchen," Donna says sternly," no side stops and you keep your hands in your pockets." Dean and Liza shrug, all of them apart from Charlie doing what Donna had said. The pockets of Liza's shorts weren't very deep, but she manages to get her fingers in them all the same. Whichever designers decided women's' clothes didn't need pockets deserves a hard slap to the back of their heads. There's no talking as they all trudge down the stairs and through the house, the silence almost a physical thing without all the mourners that had swarmed this place yesterday. The kitchen seemed bigger than it had earlier, everything neatly organized and scrubbed clean.
"Okay," Sam sighs, taking the lead as Charlie went to fix herself a cup of tea. "This is gonna be really hard, Donna, and I'm sorry in advance." The brunette purses her lips, the dark red lipstick making them seem bigger than they actually were. She's pretty, but not overly so like Jill had been, just an average sort of pretty that guys would subtly notice.
"Just spit it out," Donna snaps irritably, glancing down at her watch before meeting Sam's gaze again.
"Is Linda Shoemaker your mother?"
"Yeah, why do you care?" Damn, who pissed in her Cheerios? Oh right, that was probably us since we broke into her house while she was gone.
"And she's dead?"
"She accidentally overdosed on sleeping pills, but I don't see what that has to do with you breaking into my home." Liza shares a look with the boys, wishing Donna's answer had been something along the lines of her mom being on cruise. Things are never so simple in this line of work. "Now, I answered your stupid questions, so you should just leave."
"Donna—"
"Now!" She storms off back up the stairs, leaving the rest of them standing awkwardly in the kitchen.
"Well, that could've gone a lot better," Dean mutters, bringing his hands out of his jacket pockets," but at least we got an answer out of her."
"You don't actually think her dad killed her mom, do you," Charlie asks, looking between the three of the with raised brows. Liza just gives a shrug when Charlie's gaze lands on her, knowing how hard it would be for her to actually accept that. She's probably grown up around the guy, she was probably there for Donna when Linda turned up dead, and that would make Charlie look at the family with rose-colored glasses. "Maybe I should stick around."
"Sounds good to me, just don't say you-know-what."
"I may be blonde, but I'm not an idiot. That name will never leave my mouth for the rest of my life."