A/N Part two, not so gory...
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Police tape stretched around half the park, lining the path, wrapped around trees, and framing the grim scene
at the centre. At least a dozen police surrounded a blue tarp covered body, a large dog lying next to it. The
steady rain splashed all around, covering the dog, the body, and soaking the police rght through their uniforms.
All through the park other uniformed officers scurried around with metal detectors and evidence bags as they
scanned for clues on the brutal killing, all overseen by a very tall policeman, his brow furrowed with worry and
frustration. A junior office approached him, and indicated towards two suited men walking towards the scene.
"FBI guys. I checked their ID" he informed his superior, and ducked back outside the police tape to continue
looking for clues.
The tall, thin policeman wiped the rain from his eyes as he walked up to the two FBI agents, both also soaking
wet. "Gentlemen" he tipped his head, a waterfall of rain falling from his hat brim, glad he wasn't the only one
stuck out in this terrible weather. "George Hallam. Sorry to get you guys out on a day like this"
The taller of the two agents smiled and offered his hand. He was a touch taller than George, and his smile was
warm and friendly. "Agents Lee and Roth. " He flashed a quick badge, his partner following suit. "Seems you
got a little problem on your hands, here".
George smiled back. "Understatement of the century. This is the fifth woman, all in parks, all eviscerated, the
incision is near surgical, and there's no blood spilled. We can't explain it. I'm ready to start listening to UFO
theories any time now."
The FBI agent turned to his partner, who nodded. George admired that, he's never had a partner that he could
just sync with like that. He's always been teamed up with short, fat, pigheaded flatfoots who just didn't ever
follow his train of thought. These two seemed to know what the other was thinking with just a glance.
The agent turned back to him as his partner walked over to the body. "No theories at all? No witnesses?"
George looked grim. "No theories. We do have a witness, though." He pointed to the body. There, beside the
pale blue tarp was the bedraggled, dejected looking dog, his ears flopped, his eyes down cast, as he stared at
the body it looked for all the world like he had tears running down his long nose.
George noticed how the other agent bent low, and offered the back of his hand to the large dog. The dog
sniffed him, then turned his attention back to the body laying before him. The policeman shook his head.
"Don't think you're gonna get much outta him" he sighed.
The tall agent nodded in agreement, and walked over to his partner.
"Ah, Dean?" he bent to the dog, who lifted his big brown eyes up to meet his in the most mournful look Sam
had ever seen.
"No EMF, no sulphur, no blood, no freaking clue" Dean told his brother. Sam reached out to pat the dog, who
just whimpered, low and sad.
"It killed the girl, but left the dog?" Sam asked.
"It?" George asked, walking up. "You mean, they, don't you?"
Dean stood up. "This was the work of a monster" Dean told him "Not fit to be part of the human race."
George nodded in agreement. "Can't fault your logic there. So what does the bureau think? Any ideas?"
Sam offered his downcast smile. "As soon as we know anything, we'll be in touch" he said, shaking George's
hand.
As they went to move off the dog got up and stood beside Sam. George and Dean looked down at the large
Doberman, and Dean caught Sam's eye, his face barely holding back about a million one liners. Sam gave him a
'cut the shit' look and patted the dog's head, who in turn lifted his large muzzle to lick Sam's hand. "What's
gonna happen to the dog?" Sam asked. George shook his head.
"Animal control. If he can't find a home, he'll be put to sleep."
"Huh" Sam turned the collar a little to read the inscribed name. "His name is Darth Vadar"
"Cool name " Dean agreed, turning back to the policeman. "Well, we'll be in touch" and shook his hand.
They turned to leave, but the dog matched Sam stride for stride, perfectly at heel, his leash dragging on the
ground. Sam stopped, and looked back at George. "Maybe you can hang onto him for a couple of days. " He
smiled up at Sam. "I mean, being a material witness, and all"
"Oh, I don't think so" Sam frowned, and the dog placed his muzzle in the palm of Sams's hand, once again
turning his eyes up with a sad pleading.
Dean gave a short laugh. "See what I mean about puppy dog eyes?" Sam gave his a look, and gathered up the
leash, ready to hand it back to the policeman. He looked down at the leash, then instead of handing it to
George, he wrapped it around his hand. "Second thought, I always did want a dog." He gave his brother a 'go
with me here' look, and turned back to the policeman. "Just for a couple of days".
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Dean rounded on Sam as soon as they were out of sight of the crime scene. "What the hell, dude? A dog?"
Sam offered him the leash, and Dean noticed what his brother had. As Sam turned it
over in his hands Dean noticed a weird phosphorescent dust, sparkling over the lead in places, almost looking
like hand prints. He grabbed an handkerchief from his pocket and wiped a bit off. As it hit the material, it
vanished. Dean looked up at Sam, who shrugged. "I got nothing" he said.
Dean nodded. "Ok, but did you need the whole dog? You coulda just taken the lead!"
"Look at his coat"
As the dog trotted beside Sam you could see the faint hint of the same substance all over him, and when Dean
bent down he noticed the dog's feet coated in it. "But this wasn't on the body, was it?"
"Don't know. I'm thinking we get back to the motel and see how Bobby went with the coroner"
Dean gave him a sour look.
"What is it?" Sam sighed.
"I don't want dog hair and monster dust all through the Impala"
Sam rolled his eyes and leg the dog towards the car. "There's a blanket in the boot".
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Bobby took one look at the huge, mean looking Doberman and almost squealed in excitement. "Whose dog?
Where's you find him? What's his name? Are you keeping him? Where'd you get him? Can he come inside?"
He looked up and saw the bemused looks on the brothers' faces. Face colouring, he cleared his throat. "Fine
looking dog, is all" he muttered, stepping back to allow the boys and dog into the motel room.
"Of course" Sam said, but meeting his brothers eyes, he couldn't help but laugh, and Dean quickly followed suit.
"Ok, ok, get it outta yer system" he gruffed, and took the dog by the lead.
The dog looked at him, head tilted to one side, ears pricked forward. "Whats yer name, big boy?" Bobby asked
him.
"Darth Vadar" Sam replied, and Bobby nodded.
"So, do we call you Darth?" the dog just looked at him. "How about Vadar, then?" at that the thumb size tail
started to wag, followed by a lunge forward as Vadar leapt onto Bobby, knocking him flat on the ground and
smothering his face with doggy kisses.
Sam pulled him back, allowing Bobby to get up, and they both turned to Dean, who was doubled over with
laughter, holding his stomach and wiping tears from his eyes. "That" he gasped, "Was the best laugh in years"
"Ok chuckles, settle down." Bobby wiped his face on his sleeve. "Why do we have a dog, anyway?"
Sam explained the latest kill and the monster dust, as he started to strip of his FBI suit. Vadar looked at the
closest bed and jumped up on it, settling into a comfortable position, his head resting on his stretched out front
legs.
Bobby went to his jacket that was slung over a chair, and retrieved his notebook. "Coroner observed a fine
phosphorescent powder all over the previous victim, but when he attempted to remove it, it had dissipated." He
looked up at the boys.
"Yeah, same happened when I wiped some off on to a handkerchief" Dean commented "But it's stuck to the
leash, and on the dog's back."
Bobby looked thoughtful. "It was raining last night, right?" Sam nodded. "It was misty when this other girl bit it"
Bobby added. "Maybe we need to mix the powder with water to retrieve it" he went to his duffle and fished
out his toiletry bag, and found a few q-tips.
Sam grabbed a glass from the sink and filled it with water. Bobby wet the q-tips and swabbed the dog's coat,
then the leash, each time the powder successfully clung to the damp cotton bud.
"Hand me an evidence bag, there, in my duffle" Bobby asked Dean, and he sealed the swabs in the plastic
bags. "I'll ring the coroner and tell him what we've found" he said, and pulled his phone from his pocket.
Dean just stood there, looking at the dog on his bed. He looked up at Sam. "You're sleeping there tonight" he
said.
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She kicked the flat tyre of her car, although what that would achieve was beyond her. Helped not at all with her
frustration, and the irony that this was the one day she forgot her cell phone at home was not lost on her.
The rain was falling softly, more a mist than actual rain, and it formed a fog like blanket around her, soft halos
around the street lights, rainbows in the gutters. Pretty, but not helping. She had worked all day, ten and a
half hours, and was dog tired. Last thing she needed was to get a blow out, fourteen blocks from home, and no
cell phone. "AArrggghhhh! " she grunted, and kicked the tyre again, but this only resulted in hurting her toe.
Great. She's have to walk, all fourteen blocks.
If she took the shortcut through the nature reserve she could cut that down to seven.
Oh, she wasn't stupid, she'd heard all about the murders, it was all anyone talked about. And the warnings, of
course. Don't talk to strangers, don't be out on your own at night, and especially don't go near parks! And she
was always the first one to curse out the scantily clad starlet in the b-grade horror movies who investigated a
suspicious noise late at night.
It was such a long walk, though, and it was raining. She hadn't seen another car for ages, and the longer she
waited, well, the later it would be when she got home. Ah well, best she just get to it, then.
She fished an umbrella out of her trunk and locked the car. She was prettey sure if she just followed the edge
of the reserve and cut through the last corner she could be home witin 20 minutes. No problem.
.
She never made it home...
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A/N...Part two next week, me thinks. Don't forget I work over 10 hours a day, and hour and a half travel to and from, and all my animals to look after when I get home (I have a little farmlet) so not a lot of time for writing...