A/N: Thank you to all who are following and have favored our story and a special thanks to all who left reviews. Hope you enjoy this next chapter.

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C12

Dean pulled into the police parking lot and cut the engine. He rummaged through their fake ids looking for a report's badge, deciding his cover story would be that he was doing an article on strange or grisly murders in the area. Entering the building unchallenged, Dean gazed at the various signs on the wall. He chose the one pointing the way to the records room toward the back of the building. As he walked casually around a corner, Dean saw a glass partition and a sign labelled Records Room above it - Yatzee! Acting as if he had every right in the world to be wandering around there, Dean headed towards a service hatch covering the window, hoping he would find a female on duty.

"Hello there. May I help you?"

An older woman gazed at Dean expectantly as he stopped at the window. Dean rolled his eyes, Just his luck...Ma Kettle was on duty.

"Hi, I sure hope so."

Dean turned on Sam's best you know you want to help me expression.

"I'm a reporter with the Daily Courier News and I'm, um, doing an article on odd happenings in the area. You know the kinda thing, strange unexpected deaths, gory murders and such. I was hoping you could help me with getting hold of copies of old police reports from a murder that took place back in 1988? You might have come across the case at some point. A woman and boy, mother and son I believe, they were beheaded by the guy who was the woman's boyfriend and dad to the kid? The guy's name was Jessup."

The woman looked Sam's body up and down, causing Dean to wonder if this was how all women of her age reacted to Sam.

"An article huh?"

"Yeah. Look, I know this' a long shot 'cos you were probably still at school but, I don't suppose you happen to know of anyone who's worked here since then and who might be willing to talk to me, do you?"

The glow on the woman's face told Dean his instincts had been right.

"Actually, I was here then. I've been doing this job for goin' on thirty years now."

Dean schooled his expression into one of disbelief, struggling to hide the excitement in his voice.

"Seriously? And do you remember the case at all?"

"Oh yes. I do. It was terrible what happened to them both." she said sadly shaking her head.

"She was a sweet girl really, and that little boy? Cute as a button he was. I used to see them around town once in a while. I always felt sorry for them, they never seemed to catch a break."

"Ah, Betty Jean." Dean started reading her name tag. "I would love to interview you, get your opinion on the case; it would really help my article to have a personal interview on what you remember."

"Well, I don't usually do things like that..."

"Oh, come on, I bet you're a natural at it. I could quote you as a source."

Betty Jean looked at the clock behind her and then back at Dean.

"I get off in twenty minutes, why don't I meet you at the coffee shop on the corner?"

"You're a doll! Would you be able to lay your hands on a copy of the reports?"

Dean smiled sweetly at the woman, watching her melt.

"Sure thing, I'll bring a copy with me."

"That's wonderful of you Betty Jean. Twenty minutes it is. I'll get us a table."

Dean replied patting her hand as he spoke and Betty Jean blushed slightly before turning away to get the phone. Sammy's boyish charm sure does come in handy, Dean thought to himself.

-o-

Sam looked at his watch again wondering what could be keeping Dean. It had been nearly three hours since he had left and he wasn't picking up his phone. He was just about ready to go look for him when he heard a key in the door. Dean strolled in carrying a bag, a folder and six-pack of beer.

"Where have you been?" Sam complained. "Why didn't you pick up your phone?"

"Easy there, little brother, I was getting Intel for us. I have to say, your body did come in handy today with Betty Jean, the sweetest thing."

Sam spoke slowly, not liking where this could be heading.

"Dean, what did you do with my body?"

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Chill out, dude. We only had coffee; she was a sweet grandmotherly type who enjoyed talking."

Dean set down the food bag and went to put the beer in the fridge.

"I got the scoop on the murders off B.J. though."

"Good. I found some old medical records for the boy. Reason I missed them before was Tosha used her last name when she took him to the emergency room, Tyler Beckman. Claimed to have fallen down a step and broke his arm and before that tripped over a toy and hit his head, had to have a few stitches. Doctor thought it might be abuse, but couldn't prove it."

"That goes along with what I found out from our Betty Jean. Seems the father had a mean temper, police were called out several times but no charges were ever filed. Betty Jean said she saw Tosha around town with the little boy and she was sporting some pretty bad bruises on her face and arms. It wasn't long after that she disappeared with the boy."

"And that's when they stopped off at Bobby's." Sam concluded.

Dean nodded.

"Betty Jean said Tosha came back six years later after she'd lost her job. She'd no income and they were about to be thrown out of their rental. Tosha arrived back in Lawrence and moved in with a cousin. Seems it was the only way she had of makin' sure her and her boy didn't end up living on the streets. Anyway, didn't take long for her to run into the ex. He pulls the usual stuff, persuades her he's changed, says he wants them back; uses the fact that she's still not found work, says he'll support them, wants them to be a family again."

Sam looked angry.

"It pisses me off that so many of these abusers, men and women, spin the same crap time and time again, and time and time again the victims fall for it. Just like this woman, they get pulled back in by the lies. So, Tyler and his mum ended up right back where they started."

"Yeah. It's not clear how quickly it started again, or how things got as bad as they did so quickly. The report does say the boy was killed first, and then his mum."

Sam grimaced.

"Meaning there's a good chance that Tosha saw her son die at his own father's hands. Talk about screwed up! ... So, now what we could have is the mother turned vengeful, and the son trapped here or maybe hangin' around by choice 'cos he's not wanting her to hurt anyone. What do you think?"

Dean considered Sam's hypothesis as he began pulling food from the bag and sitting beers on the table. He pushed a salad toward Sam and un-wrapped a cheeseburger for himself, glancing across and shaking his head at the sight of himself looking pleased about a salad.

"That's never gonna be right...Anyway, your idea? Now that I'm thinkin' 'bout it, the voice did sound kinda young. It sure didn't sound like dad. Hey! Unless the dad was one of those watchyoumacallums... Ciabattas? Calamaris? Castanets?"

Sam couldn't help his laughter, just managing to splutter out "Castrati, moron!"

"That's the bunny. Had to be you who knew the word outta the two of us."

Dean gleefully attacked his burger. Watching, Sam frowned. First thing he was going to have to do once he got his proper body back was some serious detox. With a shake of his head, Sam returned to the topic of the case.

"So, we do a salt and burn tonight on both? Sound like a plan to you?"

"Well. We got two spirits an' two sets of remains. Logic says yeah, we burn the bones and hopefully put them both to rest. Job's done and then it's ready or not, Missouri, here we come."

Knowing just how much it irritated Sam, Dean hadn't bothered to swallow, answering with his mouth full. It somehow reassured him to know that, even in the wrong body, Sam was as reliable as ever on some things.

"Dude! Don't you have any table manners?"

"Yeah. 'Course. You're lookin' at 'em."

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