I have edited the previous chapter, but all of the important plot points remain the same. I cleaned up some grammar and changed some of the character development aspect, if you want to re-read it.

Chapter 10: Stranger

Police, park rangers, county sheriff, state patrol, Dean had encountered them all over the years. No matter the color of the uniform or the name on the tag, they all operated the same way. There was a set of rules of conduct that they were either born with, or had downloaded into their brains when they donned the uniform. Dean knew exactly how to generate a cooperative response, and exactly how to get under their skin.

He often chose the latter, as it always yielded entertaining results. Besides, during his typical encounters with law enforcement, cooperation wasn't going to be a realistic option anyway. So he might as well have fun in the process.

Dean entered the Sheriff's offices with a grin on his face. He'd been hiding behind binoculars for a week, keeping track of Sammy and watching for danger in the shadows. He'd seen Sam eat more green food than Dean had ever seen on one plate before. He'd witnessed awkward fighting lessons that had resulting in more than one busted lamp. He'd licked his lips hungrily during family dinners with the girlfriend's mom and dad (who also happened to be the local sheriff). It had been nice, for the first five minutes, to see Sammy happy.

It had been gut wrenching to see him happy with another family.

But mostly, it had just been boring. Even the sight of Sam in a giant yellow vest, directing traffic and helping families with small children safely through the crosswalk on parade day, funny as it had been, didn't make a dent. Dean needed something to do. He needed someone to talk to. He needed action.

So when Caleb had failed to show up after his shift on stakeout, and a call had come in an hour later, Dean was far from disappointed. Sure, it had been sloppy of Caleb to get caught at the shack where they were squatting. Dad would have come down hard on Dean, if it had happened to him. Yet Dean just grinned.

Finally, something was happening. After a week of hiding in the shadows and parking around the corner, he had to come out in the open. He had to bail Caleb out, and that meant he had to go into the Sheriff's offices. He was going to see Sammy.

Dean should have been annoyed that Caleb blew their cover, but he couldn't stop grinning.

His eyes swept over the Sheriff's station, taking in the deputies in brown uniforms and office staff in business casual dress. He was looking for tall, skinny, and shaggy hair. Where was he?

"Can I help you, sir?" The receptionist at the front desk asked politely. She was in her forties and dressed conservatively.

Dean's grin broadened and he unrolled the magazine in his hand. "I'd like to talk to Deputy Mann." Dean pointed to the mailing address, perched in the corner of the cover just below a picture of a naked woman artfully posed. Dean had spent time examining the magazine in detail before coming to relinquish the evidence. "I want to compliment him on his porn palace. And I wanted to ask why he won't share?"

The receptionist's mouth hung open for a full minute of silence as her face grew progressively more red. Dean waited, friendly smile fixed on his face, eyes twinkling. People did the most interesting things when you made them uncomfortable.

"I think perhaps I should call the Sheriff." The receptionist reached for her phone and pressed the page button. "You'll want to see this, Sheriff Moore."

A thin man with graying hair strolled through the office to stand behind the receptionist. Dean had seen him many times this week, but he kept that little bit of information to himself. Instead, he held out his hand for a shake. "Sheriff! Just the man I was looking for. I'm Dean Gillan. I'm here for my buddy Caleb. Your Deputy arrested him this morning. But, last I checked, looking at porn wasn't illegal. How do I get a job here? I mean, if this is what you let your guys do on their breaks, sign me up!" Dean held up the magazine.

Sheriff Moore took it and examined the address label. His lips thinned. "Most interesting. I shall have a word with my deputy."

"How about an even trade?" Dean tapped the magazine cover. "Let Caleb go, we'll show you the rest of the Deputy's collection."

Sheriff Moore pinched the bridge of his nose. "That won't be necessary, I will investigate the property in question myself. Your friend was caught trespassing. I can let him off with a warning. Don't let it happen again."

"Yes, sir!" Dean dazzled the Sheriff with his best you-can-trust-me grin. "Won't happen again. We'll be on our way out of town as soon as you let him out. But…where's the kid I saw in the paper. What was his name?"

"Sam Winchester?"

"Yeah! The guy who killed the FBI's most wanted. I wanted to get his autograph." Dean reached into his pocket for a pen.

"He's not here. He left early today. I'm sure he doesn't want to sign autographs."

Always a spoil sport, huh Sammy? Dean's grin faded. "Oh, alright then. Give my regards to Deputy Mann!"

By the time Caleb was processed and released, the entire office was buzzing with the news and the magazine had changed hands several times. Dean sat back and watched the show, sipping on some complimentary coffee while he waited.

"You enjoy that far too much." Caleb didn't look any worse for the wear.

"Yeah." Dean laughed and led the way out of the office. "But I'll bet we won't be bothered by that deputy anymore."

Caleb just shook his head and put his phone to his hear to listen to his messages. His eyes narrowed, then a wide grin spread across his face.

"What?"

Caleb rarely showed all of his teeth, and when he did, it was an occasion for concern. Something was going to die. Except, there wasn't a hunt in town.

"I've got a new customer. A gentleman on his way to Lake County and in need of a sniper rifle."

Dean's ears quivered. "Guy got a name?"

"Strickler. Harold Strickler."

Dean laughed and clapped his hands. "He wants to shoot my brother with a sniper rifle, does he? Oh no, we got you now." He slid into the driver's seat and started the Impala, her familiar rumbling ringing in his ears like a Hallelujah chorus. "This is almost too easy."

000

"Sir, I've got a concern…"

Sheriff Moore wished that he could clap his hands over his ears and bury his face in a pillow. It was Friday afternoon. The sun was high and hot. The week had been long and exhausting. All he wanted to do was go home and collapse in bed. But there was a stack of pornography in front of him, a Deputy to put on suspension, and an office buzzing with gossip.

He looked up at Deputy Farrell. "I'm a little busy, Deputy, can it wait? If this is about Deputy Mann-"

"No, sir. It's about that prisoner you just let go. The fellow who was squatting in the shack and found that." She gestured at the magazines on the Sheriff's desk.

Sheriff Moore cocked his head. "I'm listening."

"Well, sir, I checked the video monitors in the cell. You know I took a lip reading class."

Sheriff Moore nodded. Deputy Farrell was one of his most skilled people. She always jumped at a chance to learn new skills. Either she though she had something to prove, being the only woman in a boy's club, or else she was just that dedicated. He thought his was the former, but there was no telling.

"He called in the other man, the one who bailed him out, Dean. I'm fairly certain he was talking about Sam Winchester when they were on the phone. Like they were watching him." The Deputy paused. Sheriff Moore made an encouraging gesture with his hands. "I've seen that man, Dean. He's been skulking around town with binoculars all week, watching Sam. I thought you should know."

Odd. Too many small odd things adding up to something. What it was, the Sheriff didn't know yet.

"Did you see what the prisoner and Sam talked about, when they had lunch?"

Farrell shook her head. "No, sir. But I can check the tape. I think Sam's back was to the camera, but I can get half of the conversation."

Sheriff Moore nodded. "You do that. Today."

Sam had killed a very dangerous man, who was a member of a very dangerous family. A family who might be interested in revenge. Sam might know how to fight, but that didn't say anything about his ability to spot a criminal or know if someone was trying to manipulate him. If that prisoner was looking for a way to get close to Sam, to find out who he cared about…

Sheriff Moore pressed his lips together. There was nothing he could do about it now. Sam and Jessica were on their way out of town, heading up to the family's cabin by the lake for a cozy weekend together. They would be out of sight, and out of cell phone range, for three days. That should give him enough time to look into the identities of the two strangers.

He just hoped Sam and Jess had hit the road before Dean left the jail with Caleb. They should be long gone, with their mysterious stalker unable to follow or find them until Monday.

He went back to the suspension paperwork in front of him, but didn't get more than two lines done before the phone rang. A familiar voice assaulted his ear.

"Sheriff, the FBI is on the way back to Lakeport."

Well, there goes my weekend. Sheriff Moore sighed. He didn't have enough energy left to be stressed. "May I ask why, Agent Henricksen? I thought you were on suspension."

"This case isn't closed, and I'm the best expert you have on the Strickler family."

Family. Damn, he'd been right. Sheriff Moore pushed the suspension paperwork and porn magazines aside. "How many and how close are they?"

"One man, Eugene Stricker's brother, Harold. They were trained together. He's just as dangerous as his brother. We don't know if the rest of the family is involved."

Sheriff Moore froze. "There was a prisoner in my jail today, he was caught squatting at an old shack. He was talking about Sam to his friend. Caleb Phillips. Dean Gillan." The Sheriff rattled off the rest of their personal information from the computer screen.

"Got it. I'll look them up and see if they're connected to this. You keep Winchester there, Sheriff. Don't let him go home. We're about three hours out, we'll be there soon."

Henricksen hung up before Sheriff Moore could say another word. He slapped the button to clear the line and dialed Jessica's number, hoping that they hadn't driven out of range yet. There was no cell phone service at the lake house.

000

Strickler closed the phone and contemplated the screen. Caleb. He'd read that name in the Winchester file. He'd seen the pictures of them, crowded together in front of the camera, holding up their guns as if they were 4-H ribbons.

It didn't make much difference, really. Strickler never had any intention of purchasing the sniper rifle. He didn't have enough cash. He would have to take it by stealth, or force.

Harold had brought minimal gear with him: two guns. One was a regular hand gun loaded with standard bullets, nothing fancy. It was simple, but effective. He didn't need hollow points or exploding rounds to kill a man, a ball of lead would do fine. The other was rifle, and it carried special rounds, something he only used for the right occasion.

An occasion like this.

Strickler had two hours before the meet to prep his weapons and the site. He grinned. This was going to get interesting. He hadn't realized until this moment how much he missed the thrill of the hunt.

Rest easy, brother. Sam Winchester will pay. Soon.

000

What do you think? What has Strickler got planned? Will Dean and Caleb be ready? What will Sheriff Moore learn when he does a little research on the two 'strangers' in town? Let me know what you liked and what you want to see more of in the reviews!

NOTE: It was strange to write a chapter without Sam in it. I promise we will get back to him very soon. But I have to set up some plot points before we can move forward. Next chapter should be up very soon.