Chapter 2

Ada and Maud picked up their glasses and walked over to the table at which the Winchester brothers were sitting.

"Hi," they cheerfully chorused.

"Chuck sent us over," the blonde woman announced with a nod toward the bar tender. "He said you boys are ghost hunting and want to hear some long winded stories about local legends."

It made Dean smile, casual talk of ghost hunting, like it was a common pastime, nothing out of the ordinary, no need to whisper, it was a tourist attraction. Almost made him feel like they belonged in this town.

But not quite.

There was a difference between ghost hunting for tourists and ghost hunting for real. Even here, they were still skirting the fringes.

"Pull up a chair girls," he amiably proposed, straightening his slouch as befitted the arrival of female company.

There was always an element of danger about interacting with strangers, it could be a fraught activity trying to probe for information whilst deflecting queries about themselves and their history. Usually Dean resorted to lies, which was risky, any check on his veracity could undo them, result in unpleasant complications. And their current heightened criminal status made the stakes even higher than usual. With their pictures no doubt being distributed through law enforcement agencies across the country after their recent prison break they had to keep a low profile, avoid local authorities, avoid any situation that might lead to the involvement of local authorities, because they would be instantly recognizable and thrown into chains faster than they could protest their innocence. With that in mind, Dean determined to tread lightly in this chat.

"Sorry to interrupt your evening. We won't keep you long," he apologised with a charming smile.

"Hey it's not an interruption, it's an enhancement," the blonde woman dismissed with a flick of her hand. "It's not often we get to share our knowledge with handsome young men."

She pulled a chair out from under the table and said, "I'm Ada, this is Maud," jerking her thumb at the dark haired woman beside who tipped her head in greeting.

"I thought it was lush and boozehound," Dean joked earning a horrified look from his brother that made him consider perhaps it was out of line.

Sam stood up fast, a blustering attempt to cover the inappropriate remark, knocked the table hard and pretended not to notice as he offered a handshake to the women. "I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean."

Dean lifted himself out of the chair, exchanged shakes then waited for the women to settle into the vacant seats before regaining his own.

"So you heard us talking before, did you?" Maud asked Dean, her face tinged with embarrassment.

It was Ada that answered, "Of course they heard, you div, did you think we were whispering? They're not the ones hard of hearing."

"Bite me blindy," Maud retorted matter of factly, the barb casually thrown.

"Make me deafo," was the quick response, no offence taken.

Sam's brow knitted at the exchange and his gaze fled to the safety of his drink as he struggled with how to react. He hadn't had much interaction with women of this age (with women of any age come to that) and he wasn't sure if he should be laughing at their banter, ignoring it or trying to separate them.

"So you girls sisters?" Dean asked, and as soon as it was out of his mouth he thought different accents moron, but the impunity with which they insulted each other seemed to indicate some sort of family connection.

"No," they replied in unison and Maud inclined her head slightly at Ada to indicate that she should take the lead.

"We run the silent movie theatre together," Ada expounded, "every Friday and Saturday night. You should come along if you're still in town, it's a lot of fun, very dramatic piano music and damsels getting tied to railway tracks, it's great. I love all that old fashioned stuff. And it fits right into the style of the town." She paused for a moment, aware that she'd veered from the question, trying to remember what exactly the question was, before continuing regardless. "Maud and I have been running it for about ten years now?" the sentence ended as a question for Maud, a query of the time period and Maud answered with an affirming nod. "But we were friends long before then. We've been friends a looong time."

"Too long," Maud added.

"Amen," Ada agreed.

"Did you grow up together in England?" Sam asked conversationally.

Maud lips thinned, she cast unimpressed eyes at the young man and stated, "Are you trying to insult me?"

It took a beat for Sam to realize she wasn't joking. "N-no," he stammered, eyes wide as he tried to figure out what he'd said wrong, gaze shifting to Dean for some sort of explanation.

"Friggin' Yanks," the dark haired woman muttered, eyes blazing with self righteous indignation.

"Who you calling a Yank?" Dean bristled.

"Settle down Maud," Ada counseled in a sharp tone.

"Cool it Dean," Sam chimed in

Both Maud and Dean reached for their drinks, kept their eyes averted and took a long sip to quell their outrage.

"Maud's Australian," Ada explained. "And she's a little touchy when people don't recognize it."

"No, I'm touchy when people assume I'm English," Maud corrected.

"I'm sorry," Sam apologized, a flush creeping into his cheeks at the unintentional faux pas.

Maud's expression softened, she looked abashed, "No, look, I'm sorry. After living in this country for thirty years that's a raw nerve, the assumption that I'm British. Like there couldn't be any alternative."

Dean chose this moment to inject a, "G'day mate," into the conversation, and Sam wasn't sure if it was a deliberate dig at the Aussie as payback for the yank comment, or if he was trying to be funny, but it could not have been more ill timed and the accent was atrocious, even Sam was offended by it.

Maud's forehead creased, her lips parted slightly, appalled at the butchering of her brogue and she reproached, "Yeah that helps."

"Would you get over yourself," Ada warned Maud, a slight lowering of the eyebrows signifying enough, "We're not here to talk about international relations. These boys are looking for a thrill. Ghosts and ghouls and boogiemen."

Maud huffed a laugh. "Boogiemen, huh? Do we have any of those in town?"

"Yeah, I think Chuck has a bit of a cold."

Boom boom.

The women giggled, the tension at the table dissipated and Sam smiled, appreciative of Ada's effort to lighten the mood and steer the conversation past his blunder.

"We can give you a list of some of the town's most haunted buildings if you want. Or we can take you to a few of the sites and regale you with the history." Ada addressed her comments to Dean and Sam got the feeling she was deliberately drawing him into the conversation, making sure he was over the momentary disharmony.

"We don't need a full tour or anything," Dean replied with a smile, not the sort to hold a grudge, and genuine in his desire not to inconvenience the women. "Just a point in the right direction would be fine."

"Would you boys stop worrying about putting us out. What else are we going to be doing? And it's not often that two young hunks need our services. We can offer you the full service if you like?" Ada elbowed Dean in the ribs and gave him a bawdy wink. "Hey? Nudge, nudge, wink,wink."

The look of horror on Dean's face as he caught her drift made Maud cackle with laughter. "I think he's going to throw up Ada."

Sam ducked his head to hide his own broad grin, Dean really did look sick at the implication.

"Just messing with you," Ada chuckled. "I'm not that kind of girl. Although twenty years ago… look out."

"Twenty years ago you still would have been too old for him Ada," Maud said.

Ada gave her a withering look. "Jesus woman, how old do you think I am?"

"I know how old you are, I don't have dementia."

Sam was getting used to the bickering, wasn't finding it quite so confronting , but he was still keen to cut it short and piped up, "We actually heard about a place we wanted to visit, a.. construction site?" he looked at Dean inquiringly, like he was trying to remember the details, playing the innocent and Dean joined in the ruse by nodding his head to confirm. "We heard there were some strange things going on there and thought we might go and have a look."

"Who told you that?" Ada asked with just enough suspicion that Sam wondered if the events at the construction site were supposed to be a town secret. But then, it had been reported in the paper, albeit without the supernatural detail.

"The guy at the reception of our hotel," Sam replied vaguely.

"Which hotel?"

"Er…" Sam shook his head slowly as if he couldn't recall the name, raised his eyebrows to Dean who shrugged, acting dumb. The less detail they gave out, the less opportunity to get caught in a lie. "I don't remember the name of it, we only got in a few hours ago. It's a couple of streets away."

"Huh," Ada grunted and the conversation came to an abrupt silence when she didn't add anything.

"You know the place he's talking about?" Dean prompted.

Ada's lips thinned and she darted an uncertain glance at her friend. "I think I know the place you mean. It's not one of the high spots of the town, we can certainly recommend much more interesting places."

"We'd really like to visit that place first," Dean insisted, and so as not to appear too oddly focused added quickly, "but we're open to suggestions about what to see after that."

Maud joined in, "Look, the construction site is quite dangerous. A lot of guys have been hurt there in the last few weeks. We just wouldn't recommend you going."

Ada nodded her head in agreement and Dean decided to change tack. If the women were reluctant about revealing where the site was maybe they would be looser about revealing what they knew of the onsite accidents. He knew he could work his way around to where again later in the conversation.

"So what have you heard about the place? What's going on over there?" he innocently asked.

Ada shook her head at the thought of the unpleasant events. "A lot of unfortunate mishaps. Guys trying to go about their work and getting donged on the head for their trouble. I've never heard of anything like it."

"And people are blaming ghosts?" he probed.

Ada looked uncomfortable. "Well…that's what some people are saying, yeah."

"But you think it's something else?" Dean read between the lines.

The woman flicked an uncertain glance at her friend then dropped her eyes to her drink and started twisting the glass distractedly before continuing, "No actually." She sighed quietly, an indication that it was a forced revelation, an admission she would rather not have made. "We know the guy who manages the construction company and he's not a reckless operator, he wouldn't run a slipshod operation. The stuff going on at the site has nothing to do with how he's operating the business, it's something else."

"Ghosts?"

Ada raised her shoulders in a slight shrug. "Maybe," was all she was willing to concede.

Dean and Sam exchanged a surprised look. It was rare in their experience for people to come to the conclusion of ghosts, usually there was some half assed attempt at scientific justification or just a general dismissal of events as unfortunate accidents. Maybe it was because this town was so steeped in ghostly legend that the locals were willing to consider supernatural explanations for unusual happenings. Whatever the reason, it was going to make the brothers' job a lot easier if they could openly discuss the possibility of spirits.

"Ghosts. What did I tell you Sammy?" he gave his brother a slap on the arm. "We love all that horror movie stuff. We definitely have to check it out. Is it nearby?"

Ada frowned. She could see she was on a losing argument, the boys were determined to visit the plagued construction site despite their advice to the contrary. "Yeah, we can show you where it is."

"Ada," Maud hissed, her drawn expression and slight shake of the head conveying I don't think it's a good idea. The women locked eyes and engaged in a silent conversation, brows fluttering up and down, slight changes in expression providing hints to the back and forth as they tried to reach agreement on how to proceed.

Finally Ada raised a hand to her friend, a gesture that the debate was at an end, that Maud should trust her judgment and returned her attention to the brothers. "We can show you where it is, but we're not taking you onsite, we'll just be looking from the outside. Okay?"

"Okay," both men agreed. That suited them better anyway, once they knew where the place was they could come back under cover of darkness and take a thorough tour in secret.

"Let's go then," Dean enthusiastically declared, aware that he was pressing the women a little too hard, but concerned that delay might lead to a change of heart.

Ada blinked in surprise. "Alright."

As the four of them stepped out into the street, the women turned left and led the way.

"It's just up the road," Ada threw at the boys over her shoulder.

It was obvious that the women were troubled, the insults and banter had gone, replaced by somberness and low toned discussions too quiet for the men to hear.

Sam began to feel guilty at taking advantage of the ladies, asking them to do something they obviously were uncomfortable with. They were using these kindly women and it just didn't sit right with him.

"Maybe we should do this later," Sam muttered to his brother. "Let's get directions and we can check out the place by ourselves tonight."

"It's just up the road Sam," Dean protested.

To their left they passed the OK Corral and Sam tried to keep his eyes on the path, didn't want to give any indication that the attraction held an interest for him, didn't want to spoil himself for a later visit by seeing too much in passing, but a large flyer pasted to the wall caught his eye and without even realizing, he slowed to read it. It detailed a daily re-enactment of the famous gunfight and he immediately vowed to himself that he was going to catch that before they left town. That was knocking history up a notch, seeing events acted out in costume, precisely choreographed to replicate exactly the original incident. And definitely something to do without Dean. He'd probably take issue with the way they were holding the guns or something.

"You been to the OK Corral yet?" Maud asked, noting the young man had almost stopped in front of it. "It's pretty good. Well worth a visit."

"Really?" Sam returned dismissively, as if only mildly interested in the idea. "I don't know if that's our kind of thing."

He threw a quick sidelong look at his brother from under his fringe. There was a knowing half smile on Dean's face, an eyebrow raised a few degrees as their eyes met, like he could see right through Sam, like he knew his brother was playing it cool. It was an unfortunate side effect of being in each other's constant company that Sam couldn't rely on his poker face to hide what he was thinking from Dean, his brother knew him too well for it to be effective.

"Oh you've got to go," Ada agreed. "You can't come to Tombstone and not go to the OK Corral. That's like going to Paris and not seeing the Eiffel Tower."

Sam shrugged mildly, hoping it would prompt a change in topic but the ladies weren't willing to let it rest yet.

"You don't have any interest in seeing how the west was won?" Ada perservered. "You don't want to see how scores were settled in the good old days? I thought every kid loved cowboys. Shoot 'em ups and fastest draws and all that stuff. John Wayne and Clint Eastwood? What's not to love?"

Dean was startled by the comment, she had mentioned the two people that he could see himself modelled on in the wild west and it unsettled him, he hated to think of himself as predictable. He changed the subject by revealing, "Sam wanted to be the Road Runner when he was a kid. He talked in meeps for years."

"I did not," Sam protested with a laugh.

"Don't be ashamed Sam. I'm sure there are a lot of boys who aspire to be a gay looking bird."

"Shut up." He gave Dean a playful shove on the shoulder. "These women don't know you well enough to understand your stupid sense of humour."

Ada chuckled. "Return the serve Sam. Go on, you give him some back. Like I could tell you that Maud here once got very drunk and tongue kissed a statue of a native American."

"Ada!" Maud barked and crimson swept through her complexion as the group burst into laughter. "She's kidding," the dark haired woman said unconvincingly and cast her eyes to the ground to hide her embarrassment.

"Play the game Maud. Return the serve."

"You want me to tell the boys something mortifying about you?"

"I'm not ashamed of anything," Ada pronounced but then something occurred to her, she knitted her brows and she mumbled, "Oh wait."

"Yeah," Maud crowed, "you should be afraid."

It was like an act, a comedy routine, the way the women played off each other, fed each other lines, wound each other up. Sam was starting to get it, starting to understand their humor and the way they related, that they were entirely desensitized to each other, that nothing one said could offend the other. It made him feel more relaxed knowing their banter wasn't going to end in tears, he started to enjoy the jocularity.

"Okay, I've got one," Sam said with a sly look at his brother.

"Spill it," Ada prompted.

"Sam," Dean growled and the word was a clear warning, held a threat of violence.

But Sam ignored his brother and with a dimpled smile blurted, "Dean used to practice an English accent because he wanted to be James Bond."

The women cackled at the disclosure.

Dean wasn't thrilled at the revelation, but appreciated that it could have been worse. In fact he felt a grudging gratitude to Sam for the restraint because he could have revealed way worse than that. But he wasn't about to give his brother any credit, he was still unhappy about the revelation no matter how mild it was.

"Do it," Ada urged. "Come on. Let's hear it."

"No way," Dean answered flatly, not even a hint that he could be coerced.

They were nearing the end of the road and the women stopped before a wired fence surrounding an old building.

"This is it," Ada pronounced, her mirth dropping away.

The brothers surveyed the site with keen investigative eyes. Building rubble was scattered before a two storey original timber structure, probably built in the town's 1880s heyday. The edifice was showing signs of its age, faded paint peeled and bubbled in places while temporary buttresses supported parts of the exterior, waiting for a more permanent solution.

"It's a renovation," Dean murmured, a personal observation more than a general comment. To the group he added, "From the newspaper article I got the impression it was a new building."

"No, there are strict regulations about buildings in the town centre," Ada said. "Nothing can be demolished and the facades have to remain original. The town has to look as it did a century ago or as near to as possible."

"So you can change the inside of a building, but not the outside," Sam followed.

"That's right. And even changing the inside is frowned upon, you need to come up with a pretty convincing argument to alter the layout of an original building."

"So is this building being altered internally?"

"Yeah. They're turning it into a wax museum, making life size models of all the local legends so they've had to change the layout inside. Fantastic idea, but not sure this is the right place for it," Ada concluded.

"What makes you say that?" Dean queried.

"This building gives me the creeps. It used to be the old funeral parlour. It's a bit macabre turning such a morbid building into a tourist attraction." She shivered involuntarily.

Dean and Sam exchanged knowing glances. A funeral parlour, that explained a few things, spirits would get upset about their last resting place before burial being defiled.

As they stood looking at the construction site, a man of about forty five, dressed casually in checked shirt and jeans, exited the building wearing a deep frown, his attention focused on a technical drawing spread between his hands.

Ada called out to the man, "Hey Dave, how's it going." He looked up from his work to see who was addressing him. "How's Mike? Recovering ok I hope?"

The man threw Ada a weary but genuine smile and came over to where the group were standing.

"Mike's doing well thanks Ada." His gaze raked over the young men. "You girls on a date?"

Sam winced at the comment and Dean took offence, saw an inference that they were conmen or gigolos, and his fists balled at his side.

"In our dreams Dave," Maud returned with a chuckle. "No they're a couple of ghost hunters looking for a thrill. Sam, Dean this is Dave Guber, the manager of the site."

The fence prevented the men from shaking hands so they nodded to each other at the introduction. Dean's brow furrowed and his lip quirked at the corner as he repeated, "Goober?" like he hadn't heard correctly, thinking yeah buddy, suits you perfectly.

"It's German," the manager retorted snappishly. "Don't go there. The joke's worn thin."

Maud coughed self consciously, drew the manager's attention and nodded toward the site. "The boys heard about your place and wanted to come and check it out. Mind if they take a brief nosey round?"

Everyone was startled by the request. It had been agreed that they weren't going to go on site. But Dean wasn't going to say no to an opportunity to get the layout of the place, ask some questions about where the accidents occurred.

Ada rounded on her friend in amazement, eyebrows almost into her hairline.

"What?" Maud asked defensively, aware the request was inconsistent with her previous stance. "Nothing's going to happen if Dave's with them."

Dave looked dubiously at the group, "I don't know Maud. We've got enough legal issues without inviting strangers onto the site."

"We're not here to make things difficult for you," Sam offered. "We just thought it would be cool to check out a site where there are reported to be ghosts. Active ghosts from the sounds."

"Who told you that?" the manager challenged, upset that rumours were being spread. "Who said anything about ghosts?"

"Uh…" Sam cast a furtive glance toward the girls, knowing he was incriminating them but figuring that was a more convincing explanation than going down the bogus hotel receptionist route again.

"What have you girls been saying?" Dave flared.

"Easy Dave," Ada placated. "It's no real secret what's been going on at the site."

"Well you don't need to discuss it with strangers," he replied. "I'm up to my eyeballs in trouble, Ada, I don't need the field widened."

"They're nice boys Dave," Maud vouched. "They're not here to cause trouble. What's it going to hurt to have them look around?"

Dave looked impatiently at his watch then back at the group. Sam got the feeling that if they hadn't been with the two middle aged women they would have been summarily dismissed. And really, it didn't matter to the brothers if they got onsite now or not, either way they would be returning later. But their mature companions obviously enjoyed a good relationship with the manager because surprisingly he nodded his head, albeit with thin lips, and reluctantly agreed, "Okay, just five minutes, I've got things to do." He added in a sharp voice, addressing the women, "But this is not a stop off on some town ghost tour girls, I won't be allowing this again." Turning to the boys he pronounced, "And if anyone asks, you boys are architecture nuts."

Dean snorted at that, and Sam nodded agreeably.

Maud sidled closer to the brothers and asked in a low voice, "You sure you want to do this?"

"Sure," Dean replied without hesitation, and opened the gate in the protective fence to let himself through. He held it open as his brother followed and when the two women baulked he said, "You ladies don't have to come. We really appreciate you bringing us here and introducing us to Dave, you don't have to go any further."

The women looked at each other uncertainly and Maud remarked, "I will if you will."

Ada gave a wan smile. She found the place unsettling. After what had occurred on the site, both historically and during the renovation, she had the urge not to get involved, remain at a sensible distance, but her curiosity to see how the renovations were coming got the better of her and she nodded, ducking through the fence with Maud close behind.

Dean kept pace with Dave, keen to probe him for information, while Sam matched steps with the women, ready to lend a helping hand as they wandered over uneven and rubbish strewn surfaces.

"So what do you think Dave? Have you really got ghosts?" Dean leaned on the word ghosts like he was a bit of a skeptic.

Dave pushed an uncertain hand through his hair, paused before answering. "I've never been a big believer in ghosts…" he huffed a nervous laugh, "I mean it's ridiculous, right? Ghosts? The town puts on a bit of a show for the tourists but I'd never seen anything that led me to believe that sort of thing really existed." He shook his head slowly, "But the stuff going on here… let's just say it pushes the bounds of normal."

"You don't think it could be anything else? Someone trying to give you a hard time? Like a rival or something?" Dean persisted and he felt strange in the role of doubter but wanted to eliminate the possibility that the goings on could be a hoax.

"Pretty elaborate if it is. And to what end?" the manager responded. "There is nothing to be gained from sabotaging the job. The building was so dilapidated before we started that we pretty much had to work from the ground up, nobody else wanted to take it on. We're restoring the place to its former glory, making it an added attraction for the town but there's no money in it, this was always a labour of love, I was never going to make my fortune from it. Now-" he sighed heavily, "well I think it may just ruin me."

Sam had been trailing close enough behind to hear what Dave had said and drew the conclusion that he was an honest, decent guy. He obviously cared about Tombstone, was community minded, and Sam hoped there was something they could do to stop the run of bad luck he was experiencing. He didn't deserve to be ruined by angry spirits.

It was a common occurrence, spirits taking exception to a building being demolished or redeveloped. It was a standard issue pain in the butt and if the brothers could figure out which spirit was making life difficult then they could do something about it, salt and burn the bones and give this poor man some peace.

The group had been walking slowly through the building, inspecting rooms in various states of repair. Every room they went into Dean asked the question anything weird happen in here? If Dave answered no then he only gave the space a cursory once over, but if the answer was yes, Dean's eyes did a slow, thorough examination of the room looking for tell-tale signs. He wished he had his EMF meter on him, so that he could find out for certain if there were spirits onsite.

They wandered toward the rear of the building and into a large room where for the first time, Dave's face lit up with pleasure.

"This is my favourite room," the manager professed. "We've had a lot of heartache in this room but-" his gaze traveled to the ceiling and his companions did similarly, "that chandelier was installed today and it looks spectacular. It cost an arm and a leg but it was worth it."

The fixture he was so enamoured with was made of gilded metal, dropping in four circular tiers, the topmost layer about fiften feet in diameter, the lower layers progressively smaller, giving the appearance of an upside down birthday cake. Hanging from each round strut were scores of cut glass teardrops, hundreds of them in total, so closely gathered that the whole fitting wavered and hazed as the crystals turned in the light current of air.

"Yeah, its nice," Dean agreed blithely, not much into to ornate lighting. It was kind of gaudy in his opinion although he noticed that Sam looked enraptured, like he was really appreciating it and it made him roll his eyes, form the opinion that you had to be a nerd to admire it.

"Let me turn it on," Dave said, already moving back toward the room's entrance. "You won't believe the way the light hits the glass."

He flicked the light switch then stood staring upward with a smile on his face.

"Wow," Sam breathed. It wasn't just the design and intricate workmanship of the chandelier that was impressive, but the way it caused little rainbows of light to play on the walls.

"So this chandelier isn't original?" Dean asked and from his thoughtful expression Sam could tell that it wasn't a random query.

Sam gave his brother an enquiring look and shuffled toward him to initiate a low conversation about what his angle was, when a cry of fright from Ada stopped him short. Turning to the woman he saw her horrifed gaze was transfixed at the ceiling and looking up Sam saw the chandelier rocking back and forth, more than could be accounted for by a sudden gust of wind, crystals jerking and jangling unhappily, letting out a tinkling grumble.

Without thinking Sam reacted, foreseeing what was to follow.

The chandelier was suddenly plummeting downward, released of its grip on the plaster and Sam knew with dreadful certainty that he had to knock the women out of the way or they were going to be crushed.