So this chapter came completely out of nowhere and can I just say I'm glad it did. Hope you all like the new character and brace yourself, I'm throwing in a twist (although don't worry, it's more of a cameo than anything!)
Rebel8954, Well, don't worry about working out anymore clues this week, because my Christmas present to you is a bit of a diversion chapter (P.S. Dean is also super confused by everything, so I'm giving him a break too!) Hope you like it…
xXBalorBabeXx, Thank you. I hope so too! Also, there might be something you didn't expect in this chapter!
Wolfgirl2013, Thank you!
Cheryl24, Haha, it is going to be an awkward Hurley Christmas...and just think, we don't even know who did it yet. It could get even more awkward before we finish!
Mandy, How did your interview go? I kept everything crossed for you! No real plans for Christmas. Maybe go round to family, or maybe just a quiet one at home. I can't believe it's almost Christmas already. I hope you have a wonderful time whether you manage to travel for it or not. You certainly deserve a nice break.
Phoenix lord of rebirth, Well, you ask for the roommate and so I shall deliver...well, sort of. At least we get a step closer to finding her, so hopefully that is nearly the same thing!
Guest, Aww, thank you so much. I'm glad you're enjoying it!
Skovko, Agreed, Roman's family seems so much more fun, especially now they've adopted Dean into it. Because who wouldn't want their very own Dean (complete with Seth the dog of course!)
ViolentHugger03, Well, I'm giving you and Dean a chance to get over your headaches in this chapter. Because I've got something kind of different lined up instead. Hope you like this next bit of crazy!
XwwecoyoteX, Haha, I loved your comments about 'The Man,' yep, Seth wouldn't have liked those at all (although then again, he doesn't like much in this story. Apart from food and growling at people...and Roman's daughter secretly!) Glad you're all caught up and I'm loving reading your theories...which of course, I can neither confirm or deny!
Not-that-kinda-gurl, Aww, thank you. I do love throwing in some twists and turns, but there are a lot of them here even for me! And this week is definitely no exception, although this is a good twist (or at least, I hope it is!)
LunaticMischief, So glad you're excited for this chapter. Here it is!
Minnie1015, Saving the best for last indeed! Aww, I haven't played Cluedo in years. Loved that game! Also, I have good news, there is no guessing needed in this chapter, so just sit back and enjoy the ride. It's kind of wild!
Right then, let's get to it...
SIXTEEN
"Freakin' honestly?" Dean huffs, "I don't know what to believe at this point. I mean, first we think it's Christopher Hurley. Then we don't, an' now we freakin' do. Because, he's totally got the best motive."
Roman shrugs,
"I don't know about that babe. I wouldn't count out Henry at this point and especially not with what he wrote in that book."
"Okay," Dean blinks, "So I admit that looks sketchy, but can you seriously picture freakin' Tomahawk – ,"
"Gunhawk."
"Freakin' Gunhawk havin' the brains to pull this off? I mean the guy lives in a squat an' runs some crappy freakin' website that only gets like, two hundred hits a month. An' besides, you saw him when Brock came runnin' out at him. I mean, his butthole basically closed up. So he couldn't have been the guy that attacked me."
"Unless he's scared of dogs because Seth bit him when he did?"
At the closed butthole soundbite the woman in front of them in line at the DMV turns their way and clucks her tongue, in a not so subtle sort of please mind your language that Dean doesn't pick up on.
Not even remotely it seems.
"Fuck. How come it's never this hard in the freakin' movies? I mean, you always know who the bad guy is there, 'cos he's always givin' evil looks to the camera, or the freakin' music changes, or he's the Spiderman dude."
Roman blinks,
"You mean Willem Defoe babe?"
"That's his name. Fuck."
The woman in front of them turns again, her eyes ablaze with soccer mom fury, at which point the scruffy blonde seems to notice she's there, since he nods his head politely and then grins back at her, misjudging the mood almost totally.
"Hey."
"Hmph," she grunts, flipping her head around again so fast that her ponytail flicks in his eye, which frankly doesn't help the whole getting him not to swear thing, since it makes him even louder and more sweary.
"Ow. Fuck. What the hell is her freakin' problem?"
Roman pats him on the shoulder,
"Nothing babe. Although maybe you could try and kinda tone down the cussing."
Dean blinks back at him,
"What cussing?"
"Never mind."
As the line in front of them mercifully moves forward, the woman peels off to pass her glare to the staff, leaving them first in line for a window, although how long that will take is anyone's guess, considering the fact that is has recently gone lunchtime and all of the local offices have emptied for the hour, which means the DMV is packed out with people; from men in nice business suits checking their watches, to bitchy blonde woman huffing and flicking their hair
In total it has been almost thirty five minutes since Henry Hurley had schlepped out of the office back to his squat, sniffing and blubbering but minus his notebook, and forty five minutes since Dean had track the roommate down. Which is why the fact that they are stood in a DMV queue, had caught kind of caught Roman a little by surprise and which is also why he clears his throat beneath the hubbub and the background chat of voices,
"Uh, babe? What are we doing here? I mean, is this something to do with the case or – ,"
Dean grins worryingly,
"You'll see uce. You'll see."
As the automated voice announces cashier five is open, Roman steps towards it only to find himself pulled back, as Dean turns instead to the businessman behind them and then waves him ahead,
"Uh, go on man. You first."
"Ambrose, what the hell – ,"
"Shush," his partner hisses back at him, keeping his eye on a window to the left, where a large looking woman with curly hair and glasses is instructing a man how to fill out a lengthy form. Glancing up she notices Dean staring back at her and her whole face lights up.
"Who's she?" Roman asks, as the woman promptly snatches the form from her client and starts to fill it out herself, keen to speed things along evidently. She wiggles her fingers over the top of her ballpoint and Dean wiggles back, not looking at Roman.
"My wife."
"Your what?" Roman bellows, so loudly in response to him that everyone in line and in the windows look up.
Dean frowns,
"Dude. You want everyone to hear you? Oh, go right ahead man," he tacks on the end, as yet another cashier becomes open, but not the one he wants. Someone else steps ahead, as Roman stands gaping like a god damn goldfish. Although not shouting this time.
"Did you say your wife?"
"Yeah," Dean shrugs, before pausing, "I mean, sorta. She's Polish. She needed someone to marry her for a card, an' I was – you know – kinda desperate for money, an' she was offerin' so – ,"
He shrugs a second time, as the woman flings the filled out form at her customer and then slams her palm down on the button.
Window number four.
"Bingo," Dean steps forward grinning,
"So you committed marriage fraud?" Roman hisses beneath his breath,
"Hey," Dean frowns, "Don't cheapen my wedding. It was a lovely ceremony. The officiant cried, an' besides, why shouldn't Agnieszka be allowed here just because her former husband is in the European Mob?"
Roman blinks,
"The European what now?"
But there is no time to elaborate since the pair are at the desk and Dean has already thrown his arms wide towards her and painted on a smile,
"There's my dumpling."
"Poopsie pie."
Leaning herself in across the counter, the woman drags Dean headfirst into her very large chest, like perhaps she's trying to kill him or something, since judging by his hand flails he can't actually breathe.
Roman watches it doubtfully,
"You okay babe?"
The private eye sticks up a thumb in response, although by the time the woman finally lets go of him, he's red and panting and his hair is mussed.
"Ho fuck."
Not that the woman – his wife – seems to notice.
"Dean," she huffs, in a heavy Polish burr, so that instead of saying Dean she says Din. Like dinner plate, "Why you have always to go away for so long and leave poor wife on her own? You no love me?"
Dean grins,
"Now Annie, we've talked about this. That stuff was just for the folks at immigration."
"Yes," Annie huffs, "But I so sure you change your mind. Because after all, I am desirable woman," Roman coughs into his palm at that point as he tries to stifle a bubble of laughter and Dean's wife glares back at him like Medusa, "Who dis?"
Most of the time women seem to faun over Roman, so the stink eye he gets is kind of a surprise.
It's also just a little bit scary.
"Annie, this here is my partner," Dean grins, slinging an arm around the bigger man's shoulders and then slapping his chest, "Annie, meet Roman Reigns and Roman, meet my girl, Agnieszka."
Annie's face hardens,
"You say partner? You gay now? Is this the reason you no love me?"
A teenager in the booth a window down from where they're standing blinks up in bewilderment from a driver's license form, clearly not having expected a soap opera to be playing out beside him.
Dean gapes,
"What? No. Geez. Learn to have a little freakin' chill woman. Roman is my business partner."
Annie grunts a little,
"Oh."
"Which is why I'm here. See I uh, need a little favor."
In response his wife folds her big arms and pouts,
"American husband always need leettle favor."
Dean pulls a packet of Hershey's Kisses from his coat and then smirks as the formerly narrowed eyeballs in front of him light up like Christmas lights. Or something heftier than that, like maybe some sort of fire on an oil rig. She makes a grab towards them and Dean pulls them back, adopting a tone Roman uses on his daughter; a sort of faux disappointment mixed in with a sigh.
"Annie, I'll be honest here, that kinda hurts a little. Especially when I stopped to get your favorite sweet treats. An' considerin I crawled in through the bathroom window when the immigration folks showed up on your doorstep that time. Otherwise you would be back home in Kiev now."
"Warsaw," Roman hisses out of the corner of his mouth, as Dean frowns and then realizes his error. "Uh, yeah, I meant what he said."
In response, Agnieszka rolls her eyes,
"Ugh, fine then. Who you want me to look up this time?"
"Jennifer Boseman," Dean offers back brightly, leaning in over the desktop so he can see the computer screen and –
Ohhhh. Roman suddenly understands what they're doing there and why his partner had wanted window number four.
The woman who Dean had offended five minutes earlier, passes them again on her way to the door, but stops for a second to blink at Dean's tushy which is hung over the counter with his feet skimming the floor.
His wife seems to notice at once,
"Keep walking."
"No," Dean is saying, unaware of the scrap as he watches the faces of a million different Jennifers flash past him on the screen, "No. That's not her. Wait."
Jabbing his finger at the computer so forcefully that he nearly knocks it over, he waves his partner in,
"Uce, look."
Rolling her eyes Agnieszka turns the screen round again so that the photo of the redhead is pointed his way and even though the big man has never met the woman – and the photo shows her somewhere probably in her late teens – he stills knows it's their Jennifer the same way that Dean does.
"Oh man."
"Similar, right?" Dean grins back,
"Identical."
Because yep, just as everyone who knew them had promised, Ella and Jennifer look exactly the same. Except for the hair and eye color maybe, but in the nose and the cheeks and the jaw they are the same. Or close enough to baffle a husband in a dark room for example and with her hair in a towel, so no wonder Hurley had thrown himself on her.
Dean leans in closer,
"She got an address?"
Agnieszka hits the print button with a lip curl that kind of makes her look like Seth. Well, except for her size and the fact she's not a rat dog. Although Roman likes to think that the two of them would get on well.
"Last address from many many year back," Agnieszka huffs moodily, "Nothing updated since then. Driver's licence expired four weeks ago. Not been renewed."
She tears the details off the sheet and then hands it over the desk to her husband who winks at her,
"Thanks beautiful."
"Hershey Kisses," she demands, putting her hand out with a look of displeasure that melts rapidly as Dean bends and kisses her palm – like the knight from a nineteen fifties Hollywood movie – before pressing the chocolate into it,
"You take care now wife. Oh," he pauses, "And about those divorce papers?"
"I think about it," the no nonsense Eastern European huffs and for the first time Dean seems to slump just a little.
"But – ,"
"Next," Agnieszka shouts, thumping her hand down on the desk, bringing the light up over her station and scaring the living daylights out of the man next in the queue. Dean is still stood with his finger raised upwards like he's waiting to ask a question in class and so Roman takes him and steers him back gently with the all-important paper flapping loosely in the breeze.
He grunts,
"You know what uce? I got a horrible feelin' m' gonna be married to her forever, which was not the freakin' plan."
They push out through the doors and back onto the street again as Roman sighs and tries not to grin,
"Well then babe, maybe you should have thought a little more on that before marrying a woman for nothing but cash."
"Hey," Dean protests, "It like, was four years ago. I was tryin' a scrape the money for my private detective tests. An' anyway," he grins, "If I hadn't 'a married her, then she woulda never got a job in the DMV. An' then the two of us woulda have never got this, right?"
Roman takes the page he is waving and then blinks at it,
"Says here she lives three hours away. But this address is from nearly twenty years back, which means she's probably moved. Maybe a couple of times."
Dean shrugs back at him,
"But I mean, it's a start right?"
Roman nods fondly,
"Sure is babe," reaching out he ruffles the other man's hair up, then turns for the car with a shit eating grin, "Oh, and by the way, the next time you come for dinner babe, you should totally bring your lovely new wife along. Because don't have a whole lot of couple friends these days and I know my wife would love her. What do you think, huh poopsie pie."
Dean lets out a groan and then scratches his tangle like an embarrassed little child,
"Uh, yeah, about that. Don't suppose there's any way we could forget that ever happened, huh?"
Roman doesn't even need to think about it.
"Nope."
Well, since this time next week it will all be over. I just want to wish all my readers a very Merry Christmas. Whether you celebrate or not, I hope it's a lovely day!