Chapter 6

October 26, 12:09 PM. Hiram, Ga.

"I still don't understand why you invited them," Emily curled her legs underneath her as she stared out the passenger window of Sean's truck.

Her friend chuckled. "They needed to interview you, and this way, I'll be there to make sure they don't pull anything stupid."

She smiled reluctantly. "I appreciate it, but I can take care of myself, you know."

Sean returned the smile. "Well, it wasn't all about you. They do have a totally bitchin' car."

"Always with the cars," Emily rolled her eyes and gave him a slap on the arm. She could hear Sean reply laughingly, but she wasn't really paying attention. She was looking at the black Impala behind them in the side mirror. No way was she falling for the journalist scam, but there was something about the two mysterious young men, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. They had searched her out for some reason, and she was going to find out why…

-O-

"Dean, I gotta say, I'm not sure this is such a great idea."

Dean tore his eyes away from the blazing red truck in front of them to shoot Sam a placating glance. "Sam, if we're gonna get anything out of Emily, we've gotta make sure she feels comfortable with us. Trust me Little Bro, I know these things."

Sam mirrored Dean's look before turning to glance out the window. He was surprised to see the bustling strip of restaurants and businesses in Hiram, he'd thought this was just some hick town. His mind wondered briefly at the booming city before returning his thoughts their encounter with the Bill Freemont. Well, the late Bill Freemont…

"I wish we could have heard the autopsy report on Freemont," Sam sighed, bouncing his palm on his knee.

"You know what it would have said," Dean responded. "The coroner was probably all freaked out because the guy's insides were literally boiled. I'll bet he screamed like a bitch," he smiled at the thought.

Sam doubted it, the screaming part, but knew that Dean was correct about Freemont's cause of death. The demon had apparently used the man as a host until he was simply all used up, bodily function exhausted beyond repair. When Freemont ceased to be an acceptable host, the demon would have jumped into the next person available. In this case, Cara Finch.

"So we're agreed that this demon has some sort of purpose, some reason its going after these particular people," Sam stated, searching for confirmation.

"Oh yeah," this time Dean sighed. "I just have no idea why." But he soon perked up when he noticed the sign for Hooter's looming in the distance and Sean's blinker kicked on in front of them. A small smile played across Dean's lips as he turned into the parking lot. "Man, there's nothing like cars and Hooter's girls."

"You would say that," but Sam's tone was light as he pretended to scold his brother.

The car show was larger than either of them had expected, it had spilled over from the Hooter's lot into that of the movie theatre next door. There were cars and trucks of all ages, styles, and colors.

Dean followed Sean and parked in the theatre lot, next to an old but well kept Cadillac. It was teal and white, huge fins and chrome sparkling. Dean climbed out of his own ride and used his shirtsleeve to wipe a splattered bug from the windshield. "I just washed the damn thing," he muttered.

"Yeah, they always seem to lay in wait for clean cars."

Dean looked up to see that Emily had walked over from Sean's truck and was now standing before him. Boot-cut jeans replaced the riding pants from the day before and she wore a black, leather motorcycle jacket over a T-shirt. Her noticed that her arms were crossed, but not in an unfriendly manner. She looked slightly apprehensive, afraid that someone decide to dislike her.

"The bugs, I mean," she said by way of further explanation. Then, to Dean's surprise, she unfolded her arms and extended her right hand. "I wanted to apologize for yesterday, I wasn't very nice to you. Can we start over?"

A near sheepish smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and Dean couldn't help but accept her handshake. She had a firm grip, not the limp noodle thing he'd expected from a girl her size.

"Absolutely," he gave her an easy smile and her relief was visible. "So, you think you're ready for that interview? I promise I won't take up your whole afternoon."

Sean chose that moment to crank up his sound system and the sub-woofers blasted out 50Cent's Candy Shop. Dean could feel the pavement throbbing beneath their feet and was glad when Emily waved him away from her friend. Sean had a ridiculous grin on his face as three guys approached his truck to ask about his speakers.

"Man, I hate that rap stuff," Dean commented as they crossed the parking lot to Hooter's. He cast a glance over his shoulder and caught Sam's eye. His brother nodded his understanding and ambled off to check out the row of souped up rice rockets.

"Some of it's okay," Emily shrugged, recrossing her arms.

Making a mental note to never discuss music with this girl, he cleared his throat lightly and began his "interview". "So, tell me about Cara."

Emily stopped in front of a '68 Mustang fastback and stared at the car's brilliant green paint. He could tell that she was working things over in her mind, trying to decide what to tell him. "She and I met three years ago," she said finally. "She moved down from Tennessee and started boarding her horse at Rosewood, that's where we met."

"Did you guys just hang out at the barn?"

"At first, but we really hit it off and started hanging out on weekends and going to movies with groups from school." Emily's sweetheart lips turned down in a slight frown. "No one else I know likes Cara too well, she can be kind of snotty. In fact, I'm amazed we got along so well."

"You must be pretty tolerant, then," Dean tried to catch her eye, but Emily continued to stare a hole through the Mustang's hood.

"Maybe," she nearly whispered. She shook her head and the movement seemed to erase any traces of emotion she was about to show. "I also think," she began much more strongly this time. "That my dad had something to do with it, our friendship I mean."

"Why's that?" Dean turned and leaned back against the car so that he could see Emily's face more clearly.

"One night Cara came over for dinner and Dad realized that he'd gone to college with her dad…"

"What?" Dean asked rather sharply, brows knitting together.

Emily met his gaze for the first time and appeared surprised at his sudden intensity. "They used to friends, our fathers. They wanted to catch up on old times and our families went to dinner together alot."

Dean hadn't expected this, this connection to the demon. How many people were involved? He knew that Finch and McPherson had a college connection and now both were dead. If Russell was also connected, then he would most likely end up dead and Emily…

Emily didn't seem to be aware of the fact that her life was in grave danger and was staring at Dean with confusion. "Are you okay?"

"Um, yeah…yeah I'm fine," he tried not to sound shaken as he quickly rose and stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. "Look," he lowered his voice. "I'm not trying to alarm you, but you need to keep a close eye out for anything…strange."

"What are you talking about?" her head cocked and he knew that she would never believe him. Well, he had to try anyway.

"Emily, something's going on and I can't tell you what right now, but it's bad. I need you to promise me that you won't talk to Cara if you see her," he bowed his head down towards hers, eyes flashing in earnest.

She took a step back. "Who are you?"

"Me? I'm the only one who can save your friend before it's too late," he could feel his brother's presence and looked up to see Sam approaching them, looking as if he'd had enough shop talk to last a lifetime. "Well, me and my brother," he told her.

"So I'm just supposed to trust you?Are you aware that you are complete strangers? You could be axe murderers or serial rapists for all I know!" Emily exclaimed. "Besides, what are you talking about saving Cara?"

Dean seemed completely baffled by Emily's outburst and turned to Sam for help. "It's okay, Emily," Sam said reassuringly. "Why don't we go inside, get somthing to eat, and we'll explain everything."

-O-

There was an Italian restaurant next door to Hooter's and its parking lot offered a clear view of the young man and woman talking across the hood of a gorgeous Mustang. They could have been a couple on a date, or two car enthusiasts who'd met to discuss cross pipes and glass packs.

But John Winchester knew differently. He knew that his eldest son was speaking with the girl he'd sent him to find, the girl he'd found himself but couldn't help. No, he had other, more pressing matters to deal with.

He could see the girl's face, her mix of confusion and distrust. It was the same expression he'd seen on the face of every innocent he'd ever helped. They face they made when you tried to tell them the truth. He knew that Dean hadn't told her the entire story, he didn't have enough information to tell her just yet. But he was going to fix that; he was going to help his boys one last time.

Boys…he rotated the package in his rough hands as he watched his youngest join Dean and the girl. He hadn't talked to Sammy in so long, he wasn't sure he could face him after all this time. Maybe one day he would get the chance, maybe one day in the not too distant future. But that day was not today.

He spotted the Impala all the way across the lot from his sons. It was unguarded. He would slip across to the car like a shadow, unnoticed by anyone, and leave the package for Dean. Then he would be gone again, and the younger generation would have to figure out the rest for themselves. After all, that was how he had raised them.