"Dean!"

Dean was awakened by a hard slap in the face, and he shot up, cursing. In front of him stood Tyler, fully dressed despite the fact that he guessed it was some time after midnight.

"Was that necessary?" he asked her, as he held his pulsating cheek. Tyler shrugged.

"Sorry, you didn't respond to me. You were really out, huh?"

"Yeah," Dean sighed as he stood. "What's going on?"

"Another killed bride-to-be was found," Tyler said as she threw him a clean t-shirt. "Near the hotel this time. A damp alleyway two blocks away. I'm thinking the P.I. IDs?"

"Hn? Oh, yeah P.I. will do, I think," Dean said as he pulled the cloth over his head and grabbed his car keys from the table in their hotel room. "Let's go."

They were out the door within minutes.

There was a crowd hanging around the alley, and Dean had to shoulder a couple of people aside before he finally found himself in front of the body. Tyler had materialised next to him, and was crouching in the puddle the victim's veil was drenched in. He flashed his ID to the cop coming up to him to ask what they were doing there. It got nothing more than a cursatory glance, but the cop backed off; for now.

"What do you think?" he asked Tyler who was now taking in the poor victim's attire. The redheaded woman wore a bridal dress that had been white once, and fancy high heels. Tyler was frowning.

"It's odd."

"Odd?" he replied. As far as he could see the victim matched the other victims. A bride-to-be, throat cut, the blood from her aorta drenching whatever she was wearing. Strange that this one was actually wearing a wedding dress, but that was the only thing out of the ordinary.

"Yeah, she's completely dolled up, wearing a wedding dress and accessories that cost more than my house," Tyler mused. "She wasn't out for a midnight walk in this."

"Wedding rehearsal maybe?" Dean said. He saw his comment triggered something in Tyler, as her hands went to her coat pocket and she fished out a handful of fiches. She discarded a couple of them, until she finally found the one she was looking for.

"Here," she said as she walked up to him. Dean took a look at the fiche. It was for a fashion show that was being held in the hotel they were staying at. The last night was reserved for a designer that only did wedding couture.

"Ah, so our victim is a model," Dean said. "Explains the get-up."

"Hm," said Tyler. He heard in her voice that she was distracted. He looked up, and in the direction she was looking. Tommy was standing in the crowd, talking to a man who was clearly distraught. Dean didn't think he had noticed Tyler and him yet. Wouldn't be long though. Shit.

Tyler was making up a story in her head for when Tommy would inevitably ask her and Dean what the hell they were doing here. Something about being hired by one of the previous victims' families would probably work, she told herself. In any case, she was not going to telegraph that she was here. She quickly walked over to the side of the alley, where there were more shadows and she was partially obscured from the crowd. Dean moved with her.

"So, what do you think?" he said. "Still think it's supernatural? Cuz I'm not seeing it."

"It's a gut feeling," she replied absentmindedly. She didn't know how to explain it to him. It was just…a churning feeling in her stomach telling her that this was not a normal homicide; if homicide can ever be called just "normal". It felt a lot like the case they'd worked with Serena. While she'd not sensed anything out of the ordinary at first, there'd been something about this victim. They'd not been able to weasel their way into checking up on the other victims, but there was something there. Something darker than the mud in the puddle which she hadn't been able to investigate further, because the cops weren't going to let a P.I. finger stuff at an active crime scene.

"I dunno," she said. "I thought I saw ectoplasm."

"You sure?" Dean said, squaring his shoulders. She shook her head.

"Couldn't get a good look at it."

"Let me try," Dean said. "The cops are busy with crowd control right now."

"Alright, but don't count on me to bail you out when you fail. All my money's been poured into my house."

Dean flashed her a quick grin, then walked back over to the victim. Tyler forced herself to relax.

"Tyler?"

She managed not to jump, though her heart skipped a beat. Shit. She plastered a smile on her face and turned around.

"Tommy, fancy meeting you here."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off before he could. "P.I. business."

"You're a P.I.?" he asked. She nodded. "This was a trip for business, not pleasure. Hired by the family of Lisa Coleman. One of the previous victims."

"Ah, I see," he said, as he crossed his arms in front his chest. You always looked hottest when you were suspicious, she couldn't help but think. "You wanna see my ID? It's pretty cool."

"No, that's fine," he said with a smile. "I trust you."

He was suddenly shouldered aside by the greying man he'd been talking to. The man had a crazy look in his eyes, and for a second Tyler thought he might attack either of them, but then she recognised him as the fashion show's designer.

"You!" he said as he pointed at her. Tyler looked behind her, because she knew he couldn't be talking to her. But there was no one behind her. She returned her gaze to the designer.

"You're gorgeous!"

"Er…"

"You must substitute for my dearest Penelope," he continued. "Such a sorry business, all this death, but the show must go on. And I must have a model to close out the show that will stun everyone."

"Yeah, no," Tyler said.

"Oh, I think this an opportunity for you, honey" it sounded from behind. Dean had made his way back to her, and the grin on his face was as big as the Cheshire Cat was wont to sport.

"I agree with your husband," said Tommy.