Chapter 5
After agreeing to meet Emily and Sean at noon the next day, Sam and Dean had headed back into Marietta to hit the library. As it turns out, Dean's enthusiasm for research the day before had been short-lived and he was now staring blankly at the computer screen in front of him.
"Why do I even bother?" he asked flatly, leaning his head against the arm he'd propped onto the table.
"With what?" Sam asked from across the table at his own computer. The younger Winchester was scrolling through countless links to news articles, searching for any murders similar to those they were currently following.
"Why do I bother with research," Dean sighed. "You always find what we're looking for and I end up wasting my time."
"And what would you propose doing with said time?"
"Oh, I don't know," Dean leaned back in his chair to peer at the group of giggling girls sitting at a nearby table. "I could find something."
"Here," Sam shoved the photocopied Finch case file across the table at his brother. "Look through and see if you find anything that I missed."
Dean scowled as he snatched up the folder. "You're always cramping my style, man."
Sam's smirking face peered around his computer. "Oh, you mean like earlier today? When you were drooling like an idiot at Emily?" He had to duck out of the way as his brother chucked one of the library's pens at him. "It was cute, Dean, really," he chuckled.
Still scowling, Dean opened up the folder and began spreading its contents on the table in front of him. There were the interviews with Emily and the neighbor who'd called in the murder, the ME's report, the photos…
Dean held up the photo of Cara's father, Simon Finch. The man had the same deep, purplish bruising around his throat as his wife and younger daughter. It would have taken a big man to choke the life out of Simon Finch, but the hand-shaped bruises were small, much too small for a man. They were definitely made by a woman, in this case, his daughter. Slowly, an idea began to inch its way around Dean's skull, then his mind suddenly grasped it in an epiphany.
"Sam!" he leaned forwards and smacked the tabletop to get his brother's attention. A librarian that was shelving books somewhere behind him shushed him loudly with an admonition about being quiet in libraries. With an exasperated eye roll, Dean rose from his chair and leaned closer. "Sam!" he whispered this time.
Sam was startled to find his brother's nose about two inches from his own when he turned to look at him. "What?" he asked, pulling back slightly.
"I just had a thought."
"Does it involve Emily," he asked innocently.
"Yes…well no, maybe…shut up asshole! Listen, I just got to thinking, what if we're not looking at a spirit here? Look at this picture," he held up the photo of Simon Finch's bruises.
"So?"
"So we're assuming that Cara did this, but she was possessed."
"Yeah. What are you getting at Dean?"
"How many spirits do you know that can give a girl like Cara the strength to strangle her father? This superhuman strength is characteristic of a…."
"Demon," Sam finished, jumping on board Dean's train of thought. "You think a demon's been possessing these people? It would make sense."
"Of course it makes sense, when am I ever wrong?"
"Do you really want me to answer that?"
Dean shrugged and settled back into his chair. He shuffled the papers back into the folder and resumed his computer research with new interest. Hopefully, he could find a demon that liked to possess and strangle.
"I've got something," Sam whispered excitedly and waved for Dean to come around the table. Dean obliged and leaned over Sam's shoulder, one hand on the table and one on the back of Sam's chair. "Look," Sam tapped the computer screen to indicate the headline he'd pulled up.
The headline read College student murdered and there was a black and white photo of a smiling young man below.
"It says," Sam began to summarize ", that twenty one year old Daniel McPherson was found dead in his apartment, strangled to death. He lived with his wife, only been married a couple of months, and she was still missing when the article was printed."
"Sounds just like our guy," Dean said grimly. "What's the date?"
"Seventy six," Sam answered and continued skimming the article. "He was a junior at the University of Tennessee…let's see…whoa!" his eyes widened.
"What?" Dean leaned closer to the screen.
Sam shook his head in disbelief. "The police interviewed his best friend, Simon Finch."
"So there's a connection," Dean nodded in grim satisfaction.
"Yeah, and I bet there's a tie to the woman in Richmond, the guy in Knoxville, and Bill Freemont too," Sam said.
Their thoughts were interrupted as the librarian who'd been so quick to chastise Dean turned up the volume on the once silent TV suspended from the ceiling. Dean was about to make a rather rude comment about being hypocritical, but paused when he heard what the news reporter was saying.
"We take you now to Kennesaw State University where authorities have just confirmed that the body found on campus this morning is indeed that of Bill Freemont…"
The brothers met eyes and wordlessly gathered their coats.
-O-
When they arrived at KSU, the boys were met with the sight of a KSU patrol car, a Cobb County police car, and a coroner's van all parked in front of the apartment building where Cara and Emily had lived. There was a landscaped area by the side doors of the building that was roped off with yellow crime scene tape and there was a crowd of students gathering in curiosity. Dean searched, but couldn't find a detective's cruiser and knew they had only minutes to catch a glimpse at the body.
He whipped out his fake badge and began squeezing his way through the crowd with several commanding 'excuse me's. He could hear the whisperings of the students around him.
"Who is it?"
"Is it really a body?"
"I heard it was a suicide…"
Dean reached the tapeline and flashed his badge at the uniformed officer who was controlling the crowd. "Just got the call," he said by way of greeting and motioned towards Sam. Sam obediently showed his own badge and the officer waved them under the line. Dean nodded a thanks and he and Sam made their way to where the ME was crouched down between two holly bushes.
The medical examiner wiped his brow with the back of his hand and looked up at the brothers' approach. "Are you guys the detectives?" he asked.
"Yep," Dean said and crouched down to join the older man. "What have we got here?"
The gray haired ME sighed as he indicated the life-less Bill Freemont at their feet. "I'm not exactly sure. There are no wounds, no abrasions of any kind. There could be head trauma, but I won't know until I take X-rays. My first guess though," he paused to lift one of Freemont's eyelids and flashed his penlight in the exposed eye. The pupils were dilated and the whites were slightly blood shot. "This is some kind of drug overdose."
"Yeah, most likely," Dean said, knowing otherwise. The scent of sulfur hung heavy in the air, confirming his suspicions. They were definitely dealing with a demon here.
"Dean," he felt the toe of one of his brother's New Balances thump him in the back and turned quickly. There was a man in a suit talking to the uniform at the tapeline and Dean spotted the unmarked, white Crown Victoria beyond the crowd.
"Shit," he muttered and rose to his feet. The man, obviously a detective, glanced in their direction with a confused expression. "Well Sammy, time to see how fast those stork legs of your are."
Leaving behind a puzzled medical examiner, the boys bolted around towards the back of the building and heard sudden shouts coming from the cops. Sam's 'stork legs' proved to be very fast and Dean hated to admit that his shorter ones were being outdistanced. They managed to duck into a small alcove in the rear of the building and waited while the cops went charging past.
Dean leaned against the wall, pulling in quick huffs of breath.
"What's the matter, too fast for ya?" Sam asked.
"Shut up," Dean grinned, but still punched his brother in the arm. He then straightened and peeked out of their hiding spot. "Come on, we've got work to do."