Chapter Twelve
There was a group of FBI agents sitting outside the entrance to Winchester House, looking extremely pissed.
"No one came out?" one of the two agents, who had been inside the house asked.
"No, sir," a young, female field agent replied.
With a sigh, the agent turned to his partner, "Well what do you want to do, Smith?"
Smith chewed on his lip and looked out to the parking lot, spotting a black car. Turning back to his partner, Smith answered, "We wait; that must be their car over there. If they don't come out, we go looking later."
The other agent nodded, not really understanding why Smith wanted to wait for the young man they had seen inside and his supposed brother.
Fortunately for him, they didn't have to wait long. The door to Winchester House opened only moments later and a dust covered Dean and Sam stepped out, Dean herding two women toward the agents.
None of the agents spoke as they took in the grungy, bloody sight of the boys and the dejected women.
When they were close, Dean sighed before handing over the two women, "These are the ones you want for the murders. There's a secret passage on the first floor second hallway. I left the door open. All your evidence is in there. I think I saw hair."
The agents gaped at Dean and Sam as the two women promptly began fighting; berating each other about getting caught; all but giving the agents a written confession.
"Let's go, Sammy," Dean said as he began to walk toward the car. Sam nodded and followed slowly, wanting nothing more than a shower and some painkillers.
"What? Hey!" an officer called after them, but the brothers ignored him, getting in the car and driving off.
No one spoke for a moment before one of the FBI agents said, "Did anyone get a license plate number?" Needless to say, no one had thought to get one.
