Chapter 11

I walked into the 4 Queens Hotel and saw three men standing near the front door inside the foyer. One man was in his early 60's and the other two looked like they were in their 30's. Why in the hell would this middle-aged man be hanging out with these two weaselly looking scumbags? Whatever floats his boat. As I approached the would-be cluster fuck, I stuck out my hand to the eldest of the three.

"You must be Bobby Singer."

"Yes, Lt. Harrow, I am he."

"Who are these other two? I think that I may have seen them before, but I can't quite figure where." Shaking my forefinger at the other two, I exclaimed, "Yes, I do remember where I saw you two. It was downtown at Police Plaza. I answered a recent call to a scene. You are also the two that showed up a couple of nights ago offering your assistance. Weren't the two of you dressed and imitating FBI Agents?"

Dean gulped hard and Sam bit his lip and cocked his head to the side.

"Yes, these are the two men that I know can help you find your killers." Bobby stood forward and interjected. "Trust me. They are good at what they do. They ARE the best."

"And, Mr. Singer, just what is that these two are good at doing?"

Bobby grabbed his chin, rubbed it intently, let out a sigh of warning, and then suddenly blurted, "They are killers."

"Just what kind of the killers are they and why are they in my city? Do I need to arrest them right now?"

Dean stepped forward and introduced himself. "Lt. Harrow, my brother, Sam and I, are hunters; we hunt shitheads. And, there is at least one shithead, if not two, in the city."

Sam just shook his head in disbelief. "What my brother means, Lieutenant, is that, we are here to sensibly remove some bad people from the city. OK. That came out wrong; let me rephrase that..."

Bobby interrupted everyone before the conversation got completely out-of-hand. "Lt. Harrow, these two idgets have never been too good at explaining things. Let me correct everything before this conversation takes a nosedive into Hell."

"Frankly, Mr. Singer, it already has. And, I am ready to take these two to jail right now if I don't get a straight answer. Just what the hell is going on in my city?"

All three of them drew serious faces and each of them cocked their heads to the side while looking at the lieutenant. Bobby spoke first, "Sam and Dean are here to kill a witch."

"Ha Ha! You fools just made me reach my fucking limit. What the hell? A witch?" He reached over his shoulder, grabbed the radio, began to key the audio transmitter, when Dean grabbed his hand and pulled it down to his side. "Let me go, you dick! Don't fucking touch me!"

"Lt. Harrow, may I call you, 'Mike'? There is a woman here in Las Vegas who is taunting us into killing her. She is a witch. She made us kill a very good friend of ours not 72 hours ago, and we are here for revenge. Stay the FUCK out of our way!"

"How is this shit story supposed to help me?"

Sam added, "Her name is Rowena. She was born during the Dark Ages and may be 800 years old at least. She has probably joined forces with your killer here in Las Vegas. Her specialty is to cause as much destruction and dismay wherever and whenever."

"This is the stupidest conversation I have ever heard in my life; You're all MAD!"

Bobby spoke again, "Lt. Harrow, believe what you will or must, but, we are telling you the truth. And, these two can find your killer and Rowena..."

"And then what will happen?"

Dean chimed in, "We kill the motherfuckers! And...you get another shiny star from the police force on your nicely pressed Armani suit."

Sam and Bobby looked at each other as Dean insulted the lieutenant's clothing. He had been wearing a cheap pair of jeans, an unpressed and coffee-stained white shirt, and a pair of shoes from the 1970's. Everything about the way the lieutenant dressed was bad.

"You're a funny guy, Dean, aren't you?" as Lt. Harrow pointed at him. "OK. You three are crazy as nut-balls, but, I'm game. Let's find the bitch..."

Dean glanced at him, pointed his forefinger, and stated emphatically, "You just made the right choice!"

The conversation ended and the four men parted ways. Sam, Dean, and Bobby all got into the Impala and drove away.

NKNKNKNKNKNKNKNK

I was driving home after a long, hot, hard day at work. Having spent an hour with three men away from the office made the day a little better (especially, the 5 shots of Jack Daniels), but I needed to get home and get some sleep. I drove up to a stoplight and as I was waiting for the light to change to green, I lit a cigarette and thoughts about the day raced through my mind. What a bunch of ass-monkeys, those three: a witch conspiring with someone to kill off people; what a load of shit. It was less than a load of shit than I thought. What I witnessed next would cause the hairs of your asshole to tie themselves into a bow. I never imagined seeing such a fucked up sight.

A woman was bending over another woman while a man wielding a knife was cutting the other woman's throat. The woman on the ground fell straight backward. As I lit up the Red's, Blue's and the Siren. The two murders disappeared right before my eyes. I would not have believed it if I had not seen it. Needless to say, I immediately picked up my cell phone and called the three ass-monkeys.

"Yes, this is Sam."

I stammered and choked out the next sentence, "OK. You're right and I am wrong. I just saw someone killed by a man and a woman at the corners of Koval and Tropicana. Will you, PLEASE, meet me there? I'm getting ready to call my team."

"Yes, Lt. Harrow, Dean, Bobby and I are on our way."

The phone call ended.