Chapter 1: Triangulation
Mystery Mansion, New Haven. Saturday, October 21, 2006.
Neal took a break from carving to scrutinize the pumpkin. He'd aimed for the goofy look on Shaggy's face from Scooby-Doo. Had he gone too far?
Maia laughed as she set down her carving knife. "That's perfect!"
"Let me see," Chloe said, approaching the table, her hands white with flour. She was baking cookies while Neal and Maia carved jack-o'-lanterns on the large rustic pine table in the center of the kitchen at the Mystery Mansion.
Neal had rented a van to drive to New Haven for the weekend. The previous evening, Maia held a special reception featuring his art at the Elysian Bookstore. Special because this was Neal's first solo art show. He'd brought several paintings which had been in his master's exhibition last spring as well as a few extras. The event drew professors and students from Yale as well as art gallery owners and art enthusiasts.
He, Chloe, and Maia were all without their better halves. Sara was on a case in Chicago and the Winchesters were in Massachusetts on a job. Bobby was also out of town. He'd driven to Pennsylvania to help his friend Rufus, a fellow hunter.
"Can you make jack-o'-lanterns of all the Scooby-Doo characters?" Chloe asked. "That should make Dean a believer in Halloween."
"Dean's not so bad," Maia said. "It's Sam who's the problem child. For some reason, he hates the holiday." She frowned. "Halloween is about on a par with clowns."
"That bad?" Neal said, wincing. Sam had admitted his dislike of clowns to Neal last year. "Perhaps it's because of his job. Anyone who kills vampires is probably not thrilled by kids dressing up in Dracula costumes."
"He swears that's not it," Maia said. "But he won't tell me the reason."
A bell dinged and Chloe grabbed the oven mitts. "I asked Dean, and he doesn't know either. But it's not anything recent. He said Sam was the same way as a kid."
She opened the oven door and the delectable cookie aroma awoke the kid in Neal. He associated cookie-baking with his mom. Some of his happiest memories of her were when they made Christmas cookies together.
"I hope you're going to let us sample those," he said. "What kind are they?"
"Guatemalan sesame seed," Chloe said. "Violeta gave me the recipe as a thank you for our help last summer." She gave a happy sigh. "Violeta's cookies were one of the best parts of high school. These are my favorites. They remind me of sugar cookies and biscotti, only they're better."
Violeta worked at a Greek bakery in Gering, Nebraska that last year had been taken over by the trickster god Dolos. Until Chloe succeeded in banishing him, Dolos had possessed the young owner Will Hatzis. Will was now fully recovered. He'd believed himself to be the victim of amnesia—yet another innocent who likely would never know about his brush with the supernatural.
"How is Will these days?" Neal asked.
"Better than ever!" Chloe said. "And Violeta is ecstatic. They're dating. I wouldn't be surprised if a wedding cake is in their future. There's something about 2006. It's been a year for weddings. Angela's was in May. Yours is coming up. Henry and Eric told us about their ceremony." A wistful expression crossed her face which she quickly concealed. Weddings probably weren't something hunters indulged in much.
"I hope you and Dean can go to Violeta's wedding. You could probably entice him by suggesting you stay at a working ranch," Neal suggested.
"I'd like to. My parents are counting on us returning next year. I doubt Dean will agree to it though. It's like he goes on a guilt trip whenever I mention them. I told him they'd gladly consider him a member of the Bishop family whether or not we get married." She shook her head. "But for him, family means Sam, Bobby, and their deceased parents. Sometimes I'm not sure if he includes me in that inner circle."
"Don't give up on him," Neal urged. "I was estranged from my relatives for a long while. Henry helped me reconnect." He thought for a moment. "When Peter and I first met Dean and Sam, they would have dismissed out of hand the idea of partnering with the FBI. Then we worked a case together and gradually that distrust melted away. The same may happen with Julia and Graham now that they're researching the Men of Letters. The experience of working with them could make Dean more open to giving your folks a chance as well."
"But in the Winslows' case, they're providing a real service to Dean and Sam. My folks can't do anything comparable," Chloe countered. She turned on the oven light to check the cookies. "I hope I haven't forgotten an ingredient. I haven't baked anything since I was a kid at home."
"That wasn't your fault," Maia said. "Until recently you haven't had access to a kitchen."
"Mom has some great cookie recipes," Chloe said. "I don't remember them being very difficult. I should ask her to send me her recipes."
Neal grinned. "There's your solution! You know the saying that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. That's not just for the woman he's dating but her parents. When we were in Nebraska, Dean raved about the pie your mom made. And didn't she serve him hamburger pizza?"
"Neal's right," Maia said. "Dean and Crowley achieved a truce through a love of pies. I bet if you introduced Dean to more of your mom's recipes, he'd feel much friendlier to them."
A sneaky smile formed on Chloe's face. "Thanksgiving's only a month away. I've never made Thanksgiving dinner."
"Nor have I," Maia said. She made a face. "Maybe we should begin with something simpler."
"No, we should do it this year," Chloe declared. "Mom's famous for easy casseroles and there's a monkey bread recipe she makes with canned biscuits that Dean would adore."
Neal grinned as the con formed before his eyes. "You should discuss menu options with him. Mention a couple of the dishes that your mom makes that you think he'll love. Perhaps there's a regional specialty with local berries only available in Nebraska. Reminisce about cooking with your mom. By the time you'd like to make a trip, he'll gladly go along."
Chloe started rattling off dishes. For Neal's taste, they relied a little too heavily on canned soups and prepared items, but Dean and Sam would probably love them. They'd lost their mom when Dean was only four. After a period of initial awkwardness, Dean would likely enjoy spending time with Chloe's parents.
As for Violeta's cookies, Neal would gladly frequent her bakery any day. When the cookies had cooled enough to sample, he and Maia took a break from pumpkin carving to savor their buttery goodness. "Sara would love these. Biscotti are high on her list of favorite foods."
"I'm sorry she couldn't join us for the weekend," Maia said.
"Me too," Neal agreed. "She thought she could fly in for the reception but they needed to follow a lead in the case. She's been gone for over a week. Being home in time for Halloween is set in stone." Sara had taken two new hires with her. Win-Win was ramping up the number of investigators it had on staff now that it was providing investigative services for several insurance companies.
Maia frowned. "I hope Sam doesn't prolong the job in Taunton just to avoid the holiday."
"He wouldn't do that," Chloe assured her. "Although it sounds like something Dean might do." She narrowed her eyes at the thought. "He better not. Last year, we went along with their wishes and didn't decorate the cottage for Halloween. Since we were attending the Samhain celebration in New York, we knew we wouldn't be around to pass out treats anyway. This year will be different. Thanks to Violeta's recipes, my cookies will be so delicious even Dean and Sam will want to go trick-or-treating at our house."
"Sam's carved a wooden sign of the Mystery Mansion for us to display in the yard," Maia said. "Dean didn't realize when he started calling the house that, that it would stick."
"We're going to make the decorations goofy rather than threatening," Chloe said. "We hope Dean and Sam will be able to relax and enjoy the holiday. Are you doing anything special for Halloween?"
"We're hosting a combination Samhain and Halloween party," Neal said. "We decided it would be a good time to launch the firepit on the rooftop terrace. The guests won't know they'll have to navigate a haunted house maze to reach it. Peony is planning a brief ritual to sain the home." The Scots term, meaning to bless the home, was a new expression to Neal but undoubtedly not to Maia and Chloe since they were both members of a Wicca coven. Peony, the head of the Silver Cauldron Wicca coven, ran a B&B close to June's mansion. Mozzie, his girlfriend Janet, and Neal's cousin Angela had all become members last year. Sara joined it once she moved to New York. Neal considered himself an honorary member after all the séances he'd attended at Peony's.
"What do you have planned for the maze?" Chloe asked eagerly.
"Angela and Janet are in charge but they won't have to do much. The house is already creepy because of the remodeling work. They're simply enhancing the derelict house vibe."
Chloe sighed. "It sounds wonderful. Maybe next year we'll have a party."
Maia shook her head gloomily. "I doubt the guys will ever agree. They're convinced Astrena's enchanted many of the objects in the house and masked them so well that we won't know about them till something triggers an item."
Chloe nodded. "Like the netsuke a few weeks ago. I can hear Dean now lecturing us that we'd be asking for trouble if we created a haunted house."
"I suspect our party will be an annual tradition," Neal said. "You're welcome to join us."
"If Dean and Sam grumble too much about what we planned this year, you may see us sooner than you'd realized," Chloe said.
"Let's think positive," Maia said. "They'll resolve the job quickly and we'll have enough time to get them into the mood."
"What kind of creature are they confronting this time?" Neal asked, hoping that wasn't a sensitive subject.
"They haven't been able to determine if there is one," Chloe admitted. "There have been three disappearances over the past couple of weeks, and given the location, the townspeople suspect the worst."
"You mentioned Taunton . . . isn't that part of the Bridgewater Triangle?"
"You're familiar with the region?" Maia asked, looking surprised.
"Mozzie researched it for a fanfic Diana wrote," Neal explained.
Chloe smiled. "Of course, Arkham Files. Mozzie gave me a detailed explanation of the series."
"Then you know Arkham is a fictional town in Massachusetts," Neal said. "When Mozzie heard about the supernatural events occurring in the Bridgewater Triangle, he insisted on it being included in the stories. What are Dean and Sam facing? Pukwudgies? Pterodactyl Thunderbirds?"
"You sound like the townspeople," Chloe said. "The disappearances are real, but at first, locals wrote them off as pre-Halloween pranks. Now that the number has increased, they're no longer joking. Residents report sightings of giant alligators, turtles, and snakes in Hockomock Swamp. Bigfoot reports are coming in nightly."
"What do Dean and Sam think?" Neal asked.
"They're trying to keep an open mind," Chloe said. "The police refuse to consider the possibility of a supernatural occurrence, but they don't have any leads on a human abductor. The victims all work for the same company. It was contracted to prepare a preliminary report for a resort scheduled to be built next to the swamp. Many of the townspeople are up in arms, claiming that the property should be added to the nature preserve. The police believe that the most likely culprit is an environmental activist group. They've been waging a campaign against the development for over a year."
"Dean and Sam have tramped through the swamp and not found any signs of Bigfoot or Pukwudgies," Maia said. "Although they did claim some of the snakes seemed abnormally large. If they don't find any evidence, they'll come home tomorrow. Do you think we could finish the jack-o'-lanterns before then?"
"That should give us plenty of time," Neal said. "Work calls on Monday, but until then I'm yours." His paintings would continue to be exhibited on Saturday and Sunday. He planned to take them home with him on Sunday evening. The weekend in New Haven was sparing him the din of construction noise at home.
"Thank you! I'll keep you supplied in cookies." Chloe pulled his latest creation toward her. "The guys carry machetes and silver daggers all the time. Is it too much to ask they use them to carve pumpkins for a change? I'd love to line the front walk with jack-o'-lanterns."
"After they see these, they may get hooked," Maia predicted.
#
Dean surveyed the list of stores displayed on a plaque in the shopping center while Sam jotted notes. When they arrived in town, Dean didn't place much stock in the Bridgewater Triangle legends being true. But after this last interview, he might have to revise his opinion.
The files they'd retrieved from the New Haven crypt contained plenty of information about the area. Their ancestor Seth Winchester described in great detail the Pukwudgies. Supposedly the three-foot-tall creatures bore an ancient grudge against humans for encroaching on their domain. They were believed to be capable of overpowering their foes with spears then dragging them off to their deaths. Seth thought he'd seen Pukwudgies, but then he was also certain he'd spotted a snake monster in the swamp. None of the other Men of Letters had witnessed the incident.
What was true in the early 1900s could still be true.
Sam looked up. "Was the guy's girlfriend right? Bigfoot took a fancy to our latest victim?"
"He's as good a culprit as anyone else. The victim is built like a tackle. Pukwudgies would have a tough time carrying him off. But without any evidence, we're spinning our wheels. We've explored the swamp so much I've got permanent swamp breath."
The victim and his girlfriend had been parked near the swamp late last night when he vanished. He'd left the car to take a leak and never returned.
"The police have been itching to toss the environmental activists into jail if only they could find a scrap of evidence," Sam said. "They're going to have to target someone else now."
After weeks of demonstrations, the developer had canceled his plans to build a resort next to the swamp. Local officials negotiated a land swap arrangement where the tract of land would be added to the nature preserve at the swamp, and in exchange, the developer got tax breaks for a choice piece of land near the river.
Dean made a face. "So what does that leave us with? Bigfoot?"
Sam shrugged. "Or some pervert is taking advantage of the legends to get his jollies. But if Seth is right, those aren't just legends."
"That's a big if, though," Dean said, slouching against the side of the Impala. "Our ancestor may be just as loony as the bookstore owner."
"I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss Seth's report," Sam said. "The fact that he stated no one would believe him is a mark in his favor. And get this, he didn't mention Bigfoot once!"
Dean snorted. "What kind of defense is that?" Sam had once planned to be a lawyer. Let him Perry-Mason his way out of it.
Sam grinned. "Maybe we should go home and ask Seth's mystery machine."
Dean shrugged. "I wish. If I could just get it operational, it might be a hunter-omatic. We plug in the details and it churns out the solution. How awesome would that be!"
He'd appropriated the Scoobies' van name for a piece of equipment they'd salvaged from the crypt. And in his humble opinion, it was much more appropriate. Built of oak, the contraption appeared to be a wood desk but the top cabinet was stuffed with old glass tubes, metal coils, and motors. About the only thing Dean recognized for sure was the typewriter keyboard. The machine appeared to have been Seth's baby. From the cryptic notes he'd left behind, he viewed it about the way as Dean regarded the Impala, even giving it the nickname of Connie. Seth had left a series of diagrams but very little text describing it.
Sam was staring off into space.
"You got a theory?" Dean challenged.
"Not really, but that's the point. Let's assume we are dealing with a supernatural entity. Isn't it time we bring the women in? We know Chloe's good at connecting with spirits. She might at least be able to discover if there is a presence in the swamp."
Dean's first impulse was to shoot the idea out of the water, but Sam was right. Whatever they were dealing with was no ordinary fang or werewolf. "All right, we'll drive home tonight. This will also give us a chance to see Neal before he heads back for New York."
"Bobby hasn't returned," Sam pointed out. "One of the women will need to stay home to take care of Tatyana and Daphne. Since Chloe's the expert on calling spirits, Maia should be the pet-sitter." Sam didn't have to look so happy about it. Dean was starting to see the advantage of having pets. They provided a ready excuse for why at least one of the women needed to remain behind where she'd be safe.
Chloe had mentioned opening up an herb shop someday. If she did, would she also be less likely to go out on jobs? Dean recognized he was being illogical. He'd just finished agreeing Chloe was needed but instinctively he wanted to protect her instead. The fact that the Mystery Mansion wasn't necessarily safe was beside the point.
"Before we leave, there's a shop I want to visit," Dean said. "A train store is in the shopping center." He'd been working in secret on a model train for the Mystery Mansion, keeping the supplies in the quarantine room so the women wouldn't know about it. It was to be a Christmas surprise.
"Is there any chance we can get the train ready for Halloween?" Sam asked.
"Maybe, if we can get this case finished. Halloween's still ten days off." Dean was surprised to hear Sam express an interest in Halloween. He'd caught him more than once frowning at the vampires, gravestones, and jack-o'-lanterns that were displayed around town.
"I was thinking I might buy some Halloween props for the cars," Sam explained. "Maia and Chloe will be thrilled."
"Ooo-kay."
Sam winced. "Why are you looking at me so funny?"
"I'm just wondering about the change. You always hated Halloween."
Sam winced. "Still do. I don't plan to be around. I'll invent a job if we don't already have one. They'll enjoy the holiday more without me."
"No they won't, especially after I tell them."
"You wouldn't!"
Dean glared right back at him. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't. If you want me to play along with your little subterfuge, you better 'fess up."
"I'm not sure which is worse," Sam huffed. He jerked his head in the direction of the shops. "You coming?"
Dean exhaled. Sam could be such a mule. This conversation wasn't over but he'd table it till they got back.
The train store had everything Dean could want and more. He could easily blow his entire wad which, thanks to Mozzie's investment club, was much more substantial than it ever had been in his life. The fact that Sam had also gotten hooked on the hobby was a big plus. Dean was particularly interested in adding electrical special effects. Sam was into what could charitably be called knick-knacks—particularly figures. He'd even admitted to an interest in whittling, something Dean never would have guessed.
Was this new interest because of their life in the Mystery Mansion with Chloe and Maia? Neal had asked Dean once why hunters couldn't have a personal life too. Maybe it was because of the way their dad had raised them—living in motel rooms, always on the move—but Dean had never figured it was possible. Or maybe it was because of the way their mom died. Sam was too young to remember, but Dean had seen her pinned to the ceiling, consumed by flames. His dad had attempted to destroy the Yellow-Eyed Demon who was responsible but instead the demon had killed him. Sam had witnessed his former girlfriend also go up in flames. The Yellow-Eyed Demon was still out there. Deep down, Dean knew history would repeat itself unless they could stop him.
But until then, no harm in a little kick-back time. Sam was discussing a display of miniature wooden witches with the store clerk, a smile on his face. Hell, if Sam could start to enjoy Halloween, anything was possible.
#
After taking their purchases back to the motel, they set off for the swamp one last time. Dean promised Sam if they didn't find anything, they'd return to New Haven and regroup.
When they arrived, dusk had already fallen. The last victim had disappeared in the evening, so they figured this was their best shot.
Hard to know what kind of weapon to use against an unknown foe. They had silver knives, shotguns—some loaded with rock salt— and machetes. Sam had even insisted on applying some of the women's spell repellent.
The trail they were on led directly into the heart of Hockomock Swamp. If Bigfoot or Pukwudgies were around, this is where they should be. He and Sam were proceeding as quietly as two guys in boots could. Dean listened intently to every sound.
"What was that?" Sam said in an urgent whisper.
"I didn't hear anything."
He swallowed. "It was a slithering sound, like a snake in the water."
Just their luck. Why couldn't the swamp be known for giant rabbits instead? Dean gripped his machete tighter. "Let's move away from the water. If there is a giant snake around, I'd rather be on dry land."
As Sam turned, he let out a shout.
Dean spun around. Out of nowhere, a dense fog enveloped them. "Sam, you with me?" Dean reached out blindly, trying to grab onto his brother.
"Sammy, where are you?" The fog dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. His brother was nowhere in sight.
#
Neal chuckled at the plush bat. "Sam will love these."
"I hope so," Maia said. "I've been working on them at the bookstore for weeks. I wanted to make them adorable. No scary stuff for this Halloween."
"I need to commission you to make some for me." Maia had combined quilting techniques and embroidery to make plush bats with large quilted ears and wings. The fabric depicted the night sky and was glow-in-the-dark, giving the bats an otherworldly appearance. He and Maia were suspending the bats from doorways and ceiling fixtures, assisted by Tatyana, Maia's Russian Wolfhound. Her cat Daphne had already appropriated one as her plaything.
Chloe was in the kitchen making dinner. A beef harvest stew and homemade biscuits were on the menu. The cooking smells made Neal eager for his new kitchen to be ready.
"I have extra bats," Maia said. "I'd be honored if you'd take some home."
"Thank you! I know just . . ." His words trailed off as Chloe strode out of the kitchen, her face taut with tension. She was holding her cell phone to her ear.
"Dean, I'm putting you on speaker so Maia and Neal can hear you." She approached Maia and clasped her hand. "Sam's missing."
In a few terse words, Dean described the circumstances. "I've been searching for the past hour and can't find a trace," he said. "I know he's alive. We just have to find him."
Neal didn't challenge his assertion. At this point, they all needed to think positive.
"Sam and I'd planned to come back to New Haven tonight," Dean added. "We don't know who we're up against, and now they have him. Is there any spell you can perform to locate him?"
"Like summon a spirit?" Chloe asked. "We can try." It was for the best Dean couldn't see her bleak look.
Neal turned to Maia with a silent question. Her helpless shrug wasn't reassuring.
"We'll find a way and get back to you," Chloe said. Neal was impressed at how confident she sounded. "You shouldn't be in the swamp alone. If you're captured too, that won't help Sam."
"You're liable to miss clues in the dark," Neal added.
"I'm not leaving here till he's found," Dean growled. "But I'll touch base every hour. Do whatever it takes, okay?"
"We will," Chloe promised. As soon as Dean ended the call, she turned to Maia. "Bobby's in Michigan. He won't be able to get back for hours."
"Dean gave his tacit approval," Maia pointed out.
Chloe nodded. "I'll go to the inn for a pie while you call Crowley."
Notes: Will Crowley provide the solution or lead them into worse trouble? The answer's coming in Chapter 2: Demon in the Details.
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