PILOT

PART FOUR

Sam sat in the passenger seat of Dean's car, flipping through a box of cassette tapes. Dean walks out of the gas station store, waving some breakfast bars and juice. "Hey, you want some breakfast?" asked Dean. "No thanks," said Sam. "So how did you pay for that stuff? You and dad still running credit card scams?" Dean nodded and smiled. "Yeah, well hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career. Besides, all we do is appl, it's not our fault they send us the cards." "Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?"

Dean got back into the car. "Uh... Bert Aframbian and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal." "Sounds about right. I swear man, you gotta up date your cassette tape collection," said Sam. "Why?" asked Dean. "Well," said Sam, pulling out some of the tapes. "For one, they're cassette tapes, and two, Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica? It's the greatest hit's of mullet rock." Dean snatched the Metallica tape out of his hand and popped it into the tape deck. "House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole." "You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve year old. It's Sam, okay?" Dean shouted over the music, "Sorry, can't hear you, the music's too loud."

Sam hung up his cell phone. "All right, so there's no one matching dad at the hospital or morgue, so that's something I guess." Dean looked to the side of the road, at a bridge, where police cars are everywhere. "Check it out," he said.

Dean pulled the car up to the scene and he opened the glove compartment, pulling out a box of fake i.d.'s. He grabbed two out of it, turned to Sam and said "Let's go."

As they start walking towards the accident, they hear a policeman yelling off the bridge, "Did you guys find anything?" One of the divers down below yelled back, "No. Nothing." The policeman beside the boys car sighed. "No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless, it's almost too clean." Another policeman came up beside him. "So, this kid, Troy, he's dating your daughter Amy isn't he?" "Yeah," answered the first policeman. "So, how's Amy doing?" asked the other. "She's putting up missing posters downtown," he replied.

Sam and Dean finally reached the police officers. "You fella's had another one like this just last month, didn't ya?" "Who are you?" asked the policeman. Dean flipped open his wallet, showing them his fake i.d. "Federal marshals," he said. "You two are a little young for Federal Marshals. Aren't you?" asked the policeman. "Thanks," said Dean. "That's awfully kind of you. You did have another one just like this correct?" The policeman nodded wearily. "Yeah, about a mile up the road. There have been others before that." Sam finally entered the conversation. "So, this victim, you knew him?" The policeman nodded. "In a town like this, everybody knows everybody."

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud "Hey!" All three of them turned to look for the source of the shout. Another policeman had grabbed onto the arm of a young woman. He frog marched her over to the officer. "Well, well, well. Miss Tatum Riley. What the hell are you doing here?" The girl looked at him defiantly. "My job," she answered. "Really?" he asked. "I could have sworn you were just being nosy." She opened her mouth to argue, but the officer cut her off. "I catch you at one more crime scene, and I will arrest you, do you understand me?" Tatum nodded and stalked off.

"You'll have to excuse her gentlemen, Tatum is a very nosy reporter. She's shown up to a lot of crime scenes to 'investigate'." "Did you say her name was Tatum Riley?" asked Sam. The policeman nodded. There was a pause before Dean covered it up with "Any connection between the victims besides that they're all men?" "No, not so far as we can tell." "So what's the theory?" Sam asked. "Honestly? We don't know. Serial murder? Kidnaping ring?" "Well," said Dean. "That's exactly the crack work that I'd expect out of you guys." Sam stomped down hard on Dean's foot. "Thank you for your time. Gentlemen."

Dean and Sam walked back towards the car. Once they were out of hearing distance, Dean smacked Sam upside the back of his head. "Ow! What was that for?" asked Sam, rubbing the spot where Dean smacked him. "Why did you have to step on my foot?" asked Dean. "Why do you have to talk to police like that?" "Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone in this. I mean, if we're gonna find dad we've gotta get to the bottom of this thing ourselves." "Yeah," said Sam. "Speaking of finding people..." he was cut off as the sheriff and two official looking men walked over. "Can I help you boys?" the sheriff asked. "No sir," answered Dean. "We we're just leaving." He then directed his attention at the two new officers. "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully."

"Okay, back to the whole finding people thing," said Sam. "Was that really Tatum? I mean, it's been ten years since we've even seen her." "It was her," Dean answered. "How can you be so sure?" asked Sam. "It was her Sam, I'm telling you." "Dean, she was ten when we saw her last." "Yeah," said Dean. "And that girl looked like she was around twenty. It all fits."

They got back into the Impala. "Well," asked Sam. "How are we going to find her?" "Well, first, we gotta find Amy, ask her a few questions, then I guess we'll... ask around," Dean said. He took of down the road.