I just wanted to say "Thank You" to all my readers and reviewers…so, Thank You. I'm trying to update as much as possible and with the premiere of season 2 approaching quickly, I'm really pushing myself to get a lot of this story done.
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Chapter 18: A New Job
The three of them sat in a hotel diner at the Cynnwood Inn. It had been a week since the wendigo was destroyed. Dean sat to the right of his brother with a newspaper sprawled out in front of him, hair messy. He wore his black leather jacket, black t-shirt, and jeans. Sam sat, arms crossed on the table wearing a blue jacket and a pair of jeans. The pair of them sat waiting for Amber to come out of the bathroom. The stitches were taken out earlier that afternoon. Every chance she had, she went to the bathroom to check and see how it looked because she "didn't want people staring at the scar."
Dean sat, reading the obituary, trying to find any unnatural deaths or weird occurrences mentioned in the tiny paragraphs under the photographs of the deceased. He repeatedly circled the same article with a blue pen while others were crossed out with black ink. A big breasted blonde wearing a pink spaghetti strap with what looked like cherry designs waltzed up to Dean from behind the counter, leaning forward and placing her hands flat on the table, squeezing her breasts together to get Dean's attention. A key charm hung around her neck and her dirty blonde hair hung over her shoulders, framing her girlish face.
"Can I get you anything else?" she asked, flashing Dean a smile.
Dean raised an eyebrow after looking her up and down,
"No," he replied.
"The check," Sam smiled politely at the woman who muttered something under her breath and walked away.
"Sam, we are allowed to have fun," Dean said, turning completely in his chair.
Sam rolled his eyes at his brother,
"Get her number," Dean urged his brother.
"Dean," Sam huffed, shaking his head.
"Slip her yours on a napkin," Dean tried again.
"Dean."
Amber came walking up behind them dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a pink halter-top under an olive green army jacket that belonged to her grandfather. Her hair was in a messy bun, some stray strands stuck out of the bun and hung around her face. Dean pushed the newspaper over to Sam,
"Check this out, I think I got this one," Dean said as Sam looked over the article.
"Got one what?" Amber asked coming up behind Dean and wrapping her arms gently around his neck, resting her head on his left shoulder after gently kissing his cheek.
"Another job," Dean told her, grasping her wrist gently and kissing her gently on the lips.
"How do you know?" she asked, unwrapping her arms and pulling a chair up between the two.
"Lake Manitock, Wisconsin, last week Sophie Carlton, 18, walks into the lake, but doesn't walk out," Dean smirks.
Sam read allowed some key points in the article,
"Authorities dragged the water and found nothing. Third drowning this year and none of the other bodies were found?" Sam stated.
"And none of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago."
"A funeral?" Sam asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
"Yeah, for…"Dean thought for a moment, "closure," he finished.
"Closure? What closure? People don't just disappear Dean, other people just stop looking for them," Sam's mood seemed to change.
"Is there something you want to say to me?" Dean put his pen down and turned to face Sam again.
"The trail for dad is getting colder and colder everyday."
Amber leaned back in the chair, rubbing her forehead as the brothers argued for the third time that week.
"Exactly, so what are we supposed to do?" Dean seemed to add fuel to the fire.
"Something…anything!"
"You know what, I'm sick of this attitude," Dean kept his voice low as he argued, "You don't think I want to find dad as much as you do?"
"Yeah, I know you do. I just…" Sam began, but Dean cut him off.
"I'm the one who was with him everyday for the past two years while you went off to college and pep rallies. We will find dad, but until then we will kill everything bad between here and there!" Dean said angrily, "Okay?"
"Yeah," Sam cooled.
"So, this Lake Manitock," Amber leaned forward again, cutting in before they had a chance to argue some more, "How far?"
"I haven't exactly looked at the map, but it shouldn't be too far," Dean said, standing up, Amber and Sam following suit.
They exited the diner and climbed into the car. Amber was starting to adjust, slowly, to their travels. They had been together for about a week and a half. Soon they were on the road.
They pulled up to a brown log cabin with green shutters resting comfortably between groups of trees. The stairs to the porch sat on the left of the porch while the door was located at the end of the right side of the porch. Dean turned in his seat, handing Amber a wallet,
"Before I forget, this is yours," he said as she took it from him.
"What's this?" she, flipping it open and seeing an ID card.
She laughed and looked up at Dean,
"So my name is A…" she looked back down to read the name beside the photograph of her, "Anita Fisher? Where did you get this?" she laughed.
"I have connections," he smirked, pushing open the car door and climbing out, "just follow me," Dean said, allowing Amber to climb out before closing the door behind her.
The group of three walked over to the stairs, walking up to the front door. Dean knocked twice on the green wooden door before it opened, revealing a young man, about the age of twenty in a light t-shirt, short hair.
"Will Carlton?" Dean asked, pulling out his wallet, flashing an ID card,
"I'm Agent Ford, this is Agent Ham ill and Agent Fisher (A/N:I thought I would just add that right in there)," Dean said, closing the wallet and shoving it into his jeans, "we work for the U.S. Wildlife Service, we would like to have a word with you."
The young man named Will nodded, stepping out onto the porch and led them to the back of the house where a beautiful lake sat with a dock. It was beautiful, but something lived there, something that needed to be destroyed.
"She was about 100 yards out," Will pointed straight ahead of him, "that's where she got dragged out."
"Are you sure she didn't just drown?" Amber spoke up from between Dean and Sam.
"I'm sure," Will answered, looking at her then back at Dean and Sam, "she was a varsity swimmer, she practically grew up in that lake," he finished.
Amber looked at the lake, looking for anything suspicious.
"She was as safe out there as she was in her own bathtub," Will added, smiling sadly at the memory of his now deceased sister.
"You said she was dragged out there," Amber began, "there was no splashing, no signs of foul play or distress?" she asked.
" No, that's what I'm telling you!" Will got frustrated.
"Did you see any shadows, maybe some dark shape?" Sam asked, looking out at the lake.
"No," he answered, " again she was really far out."
"Any strange tracks by the shore?" Dean drilled Will for some answers.
"No, why? What do you think is out there?" Will asked, looking around the shore.
"We'll let you know as soon as we do," Dean stated, turning and walking towards his car.
Amber walked over to him and faced him,
"Do you know what's out there?" Amber asked, touching his shoulder gently.
Dean shook his head and responded,
"No," running his hands through his hair.
"What about your father?" they heard Sam ask Will.
"Why didn't I think of that?" Dean mentally slapped himself, turning around.
Will's father sat on a bench at the end of the dock, looking out at the water. She felt terrible for what he had been put through, especially after what had happened to her. Amber could only image how he felt.
Will hesitated,
"Look, if you three don't mind, he didn't see anything.." Will crossed his arms, looking back at his dad once more.
"No, not at all," Sam replied, "Thank you for your time," Sam nodded at the young man before turning and walking across the sand-like soil to the Impala.
The three of the them climbed into the car, Amber taking her usual position in the back seat of the Impala. As they drove off, dirt kicking up behind them, Amber asked,
"Do you think his dad saw anything?"
Dean ran a hand through his head again, thinking before he responded,
"To be honest, no, I don't."
"So, where is Harrison taking us now?" she asked, smirking in the backseat of the car.
Dean looked in the rearview mirror, giving her a questioning look,
"What?" he asked.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were Agent Harrison Ford for a moment, I guess I was wrong," she smiled.
"Oh," he, he caught on, laughing, "Well, I guess it's a good thing I called you Agent Fisher because doesn't that Han Solo fella get with Lea or whatever her name was in Star Wars?" he smirked, looking back at her winking.
"Oh, I should have known," she smiled, rolling her eyes, turning to look back out the window.
"So where are we going now?"
"To the police station," Sam and Dean said in unison.
