Chapter 7
At the motel room untidiness was beginning to spread. Dean didn't trust maid service, worried that whoever cleaned the room might burrow through his things and either get jumpy or grabby if they found a weapon. So the beds were unmade, dirty clothes were bunched in a corner, unwashed cups sat inside the sink and pages of research were strewn over the small breakfast table.
Dean headed for the kettle while Sam bee-lined for the laptop. When Dean turned and noticed the computer going through its warm up he clicked his tongue and frowned in annoyance.
"Christ Nancy. What more could you possibly need to know?"
He was slouched casually, hip pressed against the melamine countertop but arms folded tight across his chest telegraphed that he was done with the research, unwilling to participate any further.
"Nancy?"
"Drew."
Sam blew out an amused breath. "Not sure what bothers me most, you calling me Nancy Drew or you knowing about Nancy Drew."
"Dude," Dean turned up his palms. "Pamela Sue Martin."
Sam shook his head in confusion. "Pamela Sue… Anderson? I don't get it…"
"Pamela Sue Martin."
Dean waited for the clarification to register. When it didn't, when Sam continued to stare at him blankly, he rolled his eyes and muttered, "You have some serious gaps in your tv viewing history. Forget it. It's all good." He nodded at the laptop. "What're you looking for?"
"I'm googling Ted Bonner. See what comes up."
"Right."
Dean turned away, drew a mug out of the cupboard and asked, "Wasn't Ted Bonner an outlaw or something? The name sounds familiar."
"That was William H. Bonney," Sam replied, not surprised by his brother's mistake, the names were similar. "Bonney was Billy the Kid."
"Huh." Dean sniffed. "That would have been pretty cool, chasing after Billy the Kid."
"Yeah," Sam agreed without any real conviction.
With a mug full of coffee in one hand Dean cleared some space at the table by flicking paper onto the floor then sat down opposite his brother. Sam always got so wrapped up in research, the little geek could spend hours staring at the screen, making notes. Dean felt the need to curtail that, motivate his brother to report quickly because he really wasn't in the mood for some in depth examination of the life and times of Ted Bonner. He tapped his fingers in a slow rhythm on the faux wood, reminding Sam he was there, letting him know he was waiting impatiently.
After a few minutes Dean shifted in the chair, curled his hand around the coffee cup and, as he brought the drink to his lips, asked, "You find anything yet?"
"Yep."
"Anything interesting?"
"Sure."
There was a pause and Dean brought the mug back to the table with a questioning eyebrow. "Shall I just sit quietly until you're ready to tell me?"
"Do you think you could?"
Realization dawned, Dean was receiving payback for his nuisance. He asked with mock concern, "Oh, does this bother you?" and tapped his index finger hard against the table top to the rhythm of a tune in his head, smiling innocently at his brother as the seconds drew on.
Sam endured it for less than a minute before breaking with a huff.
"Would you just…." His jaw muscles tightened as he stared at the finger. "If you're that desperate to know, I'll tell you, just stop being such a..." He shook his head in exasperation and glared at Dean. The tapping finger stilled and Dean looking pretty pleased with himself, beamed a triumphant smile which only served to deepen Sam's annoyance. He shifted his eyes down to the laptop, away from his brother's infuriating smugness and breathed deep before reporting, "Ted Bonner was accused of a range of crimes, including murder, over the course of a decade. There aren't many specifics online, it's hard to tell if he was just accused or actually charge with anthing. If he did jail time, it can't have been much because he's accounted for through most of the period. He certainly moved around a lot, setting up businesses in frontier towns, then leaving soon after." Sam caught his brother's eye above the screen. "Which sounds suspicious. Sounds like he had to leave in a hurry. But it's kind of glossed over in the stuff I've read."
Dean nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. Well we don't need to know Ted Bonner intimately. I mean, the spirits at the construction site are Tranter, Scheifflin and the hairy chick, Bonner is kind of a secondary player, the reason for the restlessness."
Sam leaned back in his chair, clasped his hands behind his head and was silent for a moment as he thought through the information. Then decided to muse out loud, "So Tranter is haunting Dave's construction site. He's restless because his kids were murdered and the killer was never caught. He spent most of his working life at the funeral parlor, so, okay, he had a connection to the place, that makes sense."
He darted his eyes to Dean, got a small nod of agreement, and continued, "But at the cemetery he's backed up by two other spirits, Scheifflin, who was his boss, owned the funeral parlor, and Eleanor Dumont who was looking after the kids when they were taken." He paused. "Why are Scheifflin and Dumont involved? I mean, they didn't have the same emotional connection that Tranter did, it wasn't their kids who were murdered. What unfinished business could they have?"
In a continuation of thinking out loud, Dean stated, "Let's assume Ted Bonner did kill those girls. He gets let off at trial then goes missing, never heard of again. Tranter kill him?" He raised his eyebrows to Sam. "Tranter, Scheifflin and Moustache kill him?"
Sam saw the merit in the supposition, how such an act would form a bond between the three. He nodded slowly. "Could be. Although, three people in a murder conspiracy is a lot of people. Hard to keep it a secret."
Dean shrugged noncommittally, not willing to lose momentum pondering the merits of a conspiracy of three. "At the construction site, Tranter is actively trying to prevent work from being done, trying to keep the place in original form."
"We don't know that it's just Tranter," Sam interjected. "Could be all three of them."
Dean nodded an impatient concession. "Whoever it is, they don't want work done on the funeral parlor."
The logical conclusion rolled off Sam's tongue. "Because there's something they don't want found."
"Bonner's body."
There was an electric pause. The brothers stared at each other, sharing the elation of random puzzle pieces falling into place, taking on meaning.
"We have to tell Dave," Sam breathed. "He's going to find a body."
Dean lifted his mug with a wry grin. Cheers to that.
Sam pushed back from the table, strode to where his phone had been casually dumped by the bedside then rifled through his duffel for the card Dave had given him a few days earlier. As he was about to dial, Dean exclaimed, "Wait."
Sam jerked his head up, saw a troubled expression on his brother's face.
"We're missing something," Dean said slowly, and Sam flicked his phone closed. "Why don't the spirits want anybody to find Bonner? I mean what's the big deal? He's dead, they're dead… so what if the bones are uncovered? There's got to be more to it." He regarded his brother thoughtfully, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. "What if it's like... The Mummy?" he ventured uncertainly.
"We're talking what now?"
Sam had been with his brother all the way, following his train of thought, right up until he decided to offer a theory based on a B-grade movie.
"You know…" Dean shrugged mildly, looking a little embarrassed and Sam thought, yeah, you should be. "…in The Mummy a bad guy is killed and buried and to make sure that no one ever digs him up guardians protect the grave."
"Why?"
Sam had seen the movie, thought it was okay, but hadn't retained any of the storyline, never envisioned it being referred to on a job.
"Because they were worried about the bad guy being evil in death. They didn't want his body disturbed."
Dean met his brother's eyes and Sam could see the conviction in his gaze. Dean was committed to the argument, really thought it had merit, even if it was derived from a movie plot.
Sam was dubious. "I don't know, man. I mean… The Mummy? Seriously?"
"It's not about The Mummy, Sam," Dean waved his hand impatiently. "I mean, the movie had obvious plot holes… Forget where it comes from. Dude, it makes sense. Three people kill the guy on the quiet, bury him at the funeral parlor, worry that even in death he might be dangerous so make a pact to guard him."
Dean looked at his brother in earnest, his expression almost demanding support and agreement and Sam couldn't bring himself to give it, had to slide his eyes to the floor.
"I'll look into it," he murmured. "See if there's any lore about something like that."
"Knock yourself out."
It didn't take long for Sam to discover that there was some validity to the theory. There was lore about spirits guarding a particular site, or person. There was nothing directly akin to what they were hypothesising in this case, but lore was flexible, capable of being interpreted and derived and the idea of three people guarding the hidden grave of an evil man wasn't ridiculous.
"Let's just say you're right."
Sam picked up the thread of the conversation an hour later without any preface or lead in. He knew Dean would follow.
"Let's just say Tranter, Scheifflin and Dumont killed Bonner and entered into some pact to guard his body. What are we supposed to do about that? We already tried taking out Tranter and it's impossible with the other two keeping him company."
Dean was reclined on the bed, propped against the headboard with pillows at his back. He had a beer in his hand and football on tv and without diverting his attention he answered, "Burn Bonner's bones."
The ease of the response, the immediacy of the answer, was an indication Dean had been quietly considering the matter, figuring out a way forward.
Sam knitted his brow because Dean's simple solution was seriously flawed.
"The guardians won't let us. They're trying to keep Bonner contained. They're physically preventing people from getting too close, no way are they going to let us uncover the bones."
There was a mild shrug in reply.
"And if we do uncover the bones, what is that going to unleash? We'd then have to deal with Bonner as well."
Dean took a swig of beer and just let the counter arguments hang in the air. Which irked Sam. It was typical of his brother to gloss over the negatives.
"There's got to be another way."
"Not that I can think of. Salting and burning Bonner's bones is the way to end this. Once Bonner is neutralized the guardians will have no reason to remain and they'll move on."
Sam chewed his lip, leaned back and stretched against the ache in his spine from sitting too long on an unforgiving chair. He felt dissatisfaction rise within him because he could see that decisions had been made without his input and he railed against the lack of consultation, the expectation that he would just fall into line. But it wasn't like he had an alternate solution. It wasn't particularly helpful arguing against a plan when he had nothing to suggest in its place. And what Dean proposed could actually work. It was problematic. Hugely problematic. The fact that the spirits at the construction site were trying to prevent exactly what Dean was suggesting was going to be their biggest challenge. But salting and burning one corpse to get rid of four spirits would be a great return on investment if they could get it done. And it was a lot simpler than trying to figure out how the three spirits had bound themselves together in the afterlife, and how to separate them.
It just would have been nice to have been consulted.
He let out a resigned sigh.
"We need to talk to Dave," Sam stated.
Dean agreed. But as affable and indebted to them as Dave was, telling a man there was a hidden body on his premises being guarded by up to the three spirits was a big pill to swallow, a mighty test of a flimsy friendship.
"We need some reinforcement," Dean returned and rolled his head to Sam with a quirk of eyebrows.
--
The knock at the door wasn't quite loud enough to penetrate the music blaring into Maud's ears through her Ipod.
"HEY!! DICKBREATH!! DOOR!!"
Ada's hands were overflowing with quilt and cover, halfway through changing out a kingsize duvet. She stood still for a moment, hoping her shout would be answered by the sound of footsteps leading to door, door being opened, visitor being greeted... And cursed under her breath when all she heard was muffled bass and Maud breaking into intermittent song in accompaniment to her private music.
The blonde woman paused indecisively, unsure whether to hastily finish the job at hand or abandon the task and attend to the door. She grabbed a handful of the comforter and shoved it into the cover but another insistent knock made her drop the duvet in a fit of temper into a heap on the floor and stalk out of the room.
As she stomped to the entrance, Ada unleashed a glare of doom from the hallway in the direction of Maud, who was jigging in the lounge room as she dusted, completely oblivious to the knocking and to her friend's irritation.
Ada jerked opened the door, startling Dean in spectacular fashion. He had drawn the conclusion that the ladies weren't home and propped himself against the wood while he scrolled through his phone looking for their number. When his support was unexpectedly pulled away he fell into the house, stumbling over the threshold as he flailed for balance. He tried to hop-step around the diminutive blonde but didn't have the control and his shoulder caught her square in the chest, knocking her backward and flat on her ass, the contact actually steadying Dean, the opposing force keeping him upright and with a few quick steps he found his equilibrium.
"Jesus Christ Dean," the Brit complained breathlessly, "you want to buy me dinner before you get me horizontal?"
Dean blushed. His eyes were wide with concern as he offered a heartfelt apology and bent down to help her to a stand.
"You alright?" he asked as she gingerly brushed herself down.
Ada gave him a sour look. "I was hit by an elephant."
"More like a gazelle," Dean lightly corrected.
"Clumsy gazelle," she muttered.
Dean's mouth twitched like he was going to retort, but he thought the better of it and kept his witty rejoinder to himself.
Sam was biting his lip to keep from laughing and Ada glared at him, then broke into a grin. She'd seen enough Funniest Home Videos to know that people getting knocked over was funny, she was able to see the humor and laugh at herself.
She gestured the boys inside, then motioned to them to hang back while she walked over to Maud who had hips swaying, doing more dancing than housework. Ada shook her head as she approached, turned to the boys and stage whispered, "And she says I'm bad..."
She flexed her fingers, then prodded Maud hard in the side. Maud let out a surprised yelp and yanked the earphones out of her ears while she fumbled for the controls tucked in her pocket.
"Bloody hell Ada, gentle tap when you want me. Gentle tap. Not skeleton fingers. Nobody likes skeleton fingers."
Ada flicked her eyes toward the boys and Maud stilled in horror when she saw them. A crimson blush crept across her face, mortified at having been sprung dancing.
Ada picked up one of the earphones and put it to her ear, her head bobbing along in time to the music. She grinned at Maud "At least your taste in music is WAY better than the way you dance chicken."
"It's better than your barnyard dancing," Maud retorted quietly, not wanting to make a scene but on the defensive, annoyed at the set up.
"You wish you could do line dancing," Ada replied evenly. "That takes skill. And stop calling it barnyard dancing, it's fucking insulting."
"Oh and you didn't just insult me."
"Well you dance like Quasimodo, what do you want me to say, you're Britney Spears?"
"How about you don't draw attention to it when we have guests?"
"How about you don't do it when we have guests?"
"Well I didn't know we had guests..."
Sam coughed, interrupting the back and forth and immediately the bickering stopped.
"We were wondering if we could have a chat," he stated. "You may be able to help us with something."
"Yeah," the women chorused, and that easily the argument was dropped.
Maud led Dean and Sam into the kitchen and the three of them sat down around the table while Ada switched on the kettle then grabbed two beers out of the fridge for the boys. When she had quickly made tea for herself and Maud, she sat in the chair next to her companion and prompted, "Okay. Dazzle us. Tell us what you found out."
And that anticipation, that expectation that all would be revealed, was deeply unsettling to Dean, it was a deja vu of the last time he had been in this house discussing the job. He could almost hear his father warning don't involve outsiders. Suddenly he had second thoughts about telling the women what they knew, about seeking their assistance, there was an ingrained wrongness to it.
Never trust outsiders. Rely on no-one but yourself. Don't tell anyone your business.
They could do the job without the women, bypass them completely and go direct to Dave, or even bypass Dave and move to the end zone in the still of the night. There was no reason for them to be sitting in the kitchen of a couple of eccentrics discussing their business, it involved a level of trust that Dean had been instructed not to bestow.
But he found that he wanted to involve them. He liked the idea of allies, he liked the idea of supporters, he liked the idea of people wanting to assist. And he liked the idea that it was more than just him and Sam. They relied on each other so heavily, bore such heavy burdens, there was something liberating about moving beyond that duopoly.
He felt an affection for these two women that made him a little unsteady, a little uncertain. Their age and maternal qualities beckoned his inner child, made him want to confide and rely, and at the same time, for that exact reason, it made him want to keep them at arm's length. They felt like they could be family, the interaction was so natural and easy, and it left him with the push pull of wanting to involve them and the concern that he was involving them too much.
Sam was staring at him, looking for cues and able to read that just because Dean was silent, didn't mean he should start talking.
Dean took a moment to find his resolve, assure himself that this was the right thing to do, then cleared his throat and announced, "We think we know what's going on at the construction site."
He paused for a second, trying to figure out how to condense what they knew, not wanting to engage in a long winded explanation.
"And? Jesus wept Dean, spit it out!" cried Ada
Dean growled, "Give me a fucking chance and I will."
Ada blinked in surprise.
Sam's lips rounded in a silent O as he shifted his gaze uncomfortably to his hands. Dean was uptight about something, Sam couldn't quite guess at the root of it, but in the past dropping a clanger before middle aged ladies would have resulted in a clip over the ear, their father was big on showing respect to women. And even though Ada had dropped the F bomb a few times herself and was hardly going to be offended by it, Sam still acutely felt the breach in manners, holding your tongue in female company was a long held and well disciplined family rule.
Dean, for his part, was immediately contrite. "Sorry. Sorry about that," he uttered, with a raise of his hand and a disgusted shake of his head. "My mouth gets away from me sometimes."
"Look who you're talking to," Maud chuckled.
"Yeah, I've said way worse. I could make a sailor blush. I have made sailors blush," Ada said, sounding proud of the fact. "So get over yourself."
Dean smiled, appreciating the easy let off but made sure to exercise due care with his language as he went on to recite what they had discovered, with Sam filling in the gaps, about the link between Tranter, Scheifflin and Madame Moustache, the nasty history of Ted Bonner, and their suspicions that Bonner was buried at the funeral parlor being guarded by one or all of the spirits.
When they finished the factual part of the narrative, Dean raised the idea that perhaps the girls could accompany them to the construction site and help them persuade Dave that they needed to locate, then salt and burn the hidden bones on his premises.
Ada gave a wry grin at the suggestion. "So you want us to come with you to see Dave, explain that you two lovely lads hunt ghosts and things that go bump in the night and suggest that he should let you tear up the place so you can stop the disruption to the site?"
Sam grimaced. "Yep, that's basically it."
Maud darted her eyes to Ada and said quietly, "Dave's going to flip."
Ada shrugged. "I dunno. I think Dave will be willing to try anything to stop the accidents. Or he'll just think we're even crazier then he suspected and that's no biggie. The worst that could happen is he tells us to get the hell out."
No, the worst that could happen is he calls the cops, Dean thought to himself.
Ada regarded Dean. "So how the hell are you going to find the body of Bonner? You planning to dig up all the flooring at the construction site, cos I think Dave might have a slight problem with that."
"We've got it covered," replied Dean dismissively.
"Oh god, why don't I feel reassured by that?" Ada quipped.
Sam chuckled. Ada was spot on with her assumption that an overconfident Dean was a reason to be nervous.
"No seriously," Dean continued uncertainly, not sure if she genuinely disbelieved him or was just giving him a hard time. "We've got a sonar detector and it's awesome at finding unmarked graves."
"So you're gonna do a bit of a Time Team thingy in the funeral parlor to find the body then?" asked Ada with a smile.
Three blank faces stared at her.
"Time Team?" Ada repeated, her smile slipping. "Tony Robinson? Black Adder? Oh never mind…it sounded funnier in my head. So when do you want to go and speak to Dave?"
Dean broke into a telling grin.
"You want to do it right now, don't you?" Ada said flatly, her words tinged with disbelief. "Jeez, you don't mind throwing your weight around."
"We need to sort this out quickly," Dean reasoned. "The sooner we talk to Dave the sooner we can get to work. You don't want anymore accidents on site, right? You don't want the blood of some poor innocent shmoe on your hands."
Ada raised her hand. "Yeah, yeah, protect the shmoes, alright."
The group collectively pushed themselves up from the table and Ada noticed Maud trying to stifle a grin.
"What are you smiling at Doogus?"
Maud's forehead wrinkled at the strange insult, Ada obviously trying out something new, but rather than take issue she replied, "This is going to be one hell of an interesting conversation. Dave is either going to believe us and be on board, or we'll all be sleeping in a padded cell tonight."
Ada nodded with a slight smile and said thoughtfully, "I'd better put on some lipstick. I want to look good for the nuthouse."
--
As the four of them picked their way through the construction site, Maud gave an involuntary shiver. The place had been creepy before in the context of its history, but now, the thought that there was a murderous pedophile buried somewhere on the premises added a whole new layer of macabre to the building. It made Maud afraid, not just nervous but afraid. The place now held a blemish of evil and she seemed to feel it all around her, something dark and sinister lurking in the corners.
She was somewhat amazed at how absolutely she believed in the Winchester boys. She'd only known them a few days. And the things they had said, about their experiences, about what they thought was going on at the construction site, were…bizarre frankly. Every time she thought about it rationally she felt a well of panic, because these brothers weren't exactly normal. But still she trusted them. She had witnessed odd things at the construction site with her own eyes and the explanations they gave were reasonable in the circumstances. In themselves the boys seemed like genuine, earnest, good men and she was convinced that they meant well, they honestly wanted to make the construction site safe.
Maud walked through the building in close step to Ada. At times their arms touched and that wasn't incidental, Maud needed physical reassurance, a sense of togetherness, otherwise she might have turned around and walked out.
Hearing the footsteps, Dave ducked his head out of a room nearby. He was surprised to see the four and made his way over to them with a furrow in his brow.
Dean stepped forward, holding out a friendly hand and Dave grasped it with a cautious smile.
"Is this a social visit or should I be worried?"
There was a slight pause before Dean answered cryptically, "Little bit of both."
Ada piped up, "Have you got somewhere we can all sit Dave? We've got something pretty important to discuss with you, but it would be better if you were sitting down."
Dave looked slightly panicked, automatically assuming the visit had something to do with the unfortunate accident of a few nights ago. His eyes flicked to Dean and he held his breath for a moment, waiting for the word lawyer or compensation or any derivative of payment to drop from his mouth.
But Dean maintained a pleasant smile. He wasn't going to be starting any conversations in the hallway. Tradesmen were working nearby, sauntering past and he didn't want unauthorized ears hearing his business. He was already looking at a five way conversation, which had to be some sort of record for him, he had no interest in expanding upon that number.
Maud touched the manager's arm and reassured quietly, "Don't panic, you're not being sued. Just keep an open mind."
That didn't exactly buoy Dave. Needing an open mind couldn't be leading anywhere good. With a quick check of his watch and a split second debate about whether he should plead out of the conversation on the grounds of being too busy, he reluctantly gestured the four into the room that served as his office.
Sam surveyed the room as they entered, taking in the dimensions and features out of habit. It was a small space, white and sterile, the fading smell of paint lingering in the air but his eyes widened as he focused on the room's dominant feature. Was that a mortuary slab in the middle of the room? What at first appeared to be an oversized desk, almost buried beneath haphazardly tossed drawings and accounts, was on closer inspection a concrete slab jutting out of the ground. Dave was using as a workspace an area that had probably seen hundreds of corpses lain across it. Sam's face wrinkled in distaste.
There were three chairs in the room, the one behind the desk black leather and luxurious, the ones facing white plastic and uninviting, a physical disincentive to prolonged meetings. While Dave walked around the desk to take his place, the brothers ambled past the temporary seating to the far side of the room where Dean leaned casually against the wall and Sam assumed an 'at-ease' position with his hands clasped behind his back, inviting Ada and Maud to take the seats, which they did.
When the company was settled, Dave's eyes darted suspiciously between them all.
Ada broke the quiet, declaring in a no nonsense tone, "Alright Dave, these boys are going to tell you some things that are wild and out there, but I want you to listen and I want you to believe because me and Maud are behind them one hundred percent. You got that?"
Dave's eyes went wide as he nodded hesitantly and shifted his gaze to the brothers.
Ada flashed the hunters an encouraging smile and pronounced, "Okay boys, floors yours."
Dean exhaled a slow, suffering breath. Prefacing what he was about to say as being wild and out there wasn't entirely helpful. He gave Ada a sarcastic thanks then launched into his spiel, giving Dave a shorthand account of the business they were in, their experience with spiritual unrest, before getting specific about what he thought was going on at the construction site and how they proposed to fix it.
It was a candid but minimal explanation told with a just the facts ma'am kind of detachment and just enough detail to make sense. Dean figured that being clinical and scientific would be the best way to convince Dave of the truth, and if he wasn't convinced, if he reacted badly, then not too much had been revealed.
When it was all out on the table, Dave sat in stunned silence. There was a scowl pulling at his lip but he didn't react immediately.
After a few awkward minutes, he said gruffly, "You really think there's a dead body hidden in the building?"
It was a loaded question, full of skepticism, asked almost as a challenge and Sam answered calmly. "Yes, we really think that."
The manager shook his head in mute disbelief then huffed a laugh, like maybe it was a joke. But he grew serious when those in the room failed to share the humor. After a very long pause he stated simply, "No. I'm not going to let you take a crowbar to the place after the money I've spent. No."
"Small crowbar," Dean offered lightly. When the joke fell flat, he added soberly, "Look, there won't be much damage. I'm guessing the body is buried in the chandelier room, that's where most of the accidents have occurred. We'll use the sonar to find the bones, pull them out carefully, then take them outside to burn. It's going to be a lot cheaper in the long run getting hit with the small amount of damage we're talking about, than paying out a lawsuit."
Sam was stuck on the part about moving the bones outside. There'd been no discussion about that. Although now that he thought of it, it made sense that they would have to do the burn outside so the whole building wasn't lost to the flames. But it made him nervous that they were adding an extra step to a process that was already going to be hazardous.
Dave was looking conflicted. He seemed swayed by Dean's case but just couldn't bring himself to make the commitment and give the thumbs up.
"You really need to do this," Dean pressed. "If you want to make this building safe, you need to say yes."
Dave sighed, stuck between a rock and a hard place and Sam couldn't help but feel sorry for him. To the uninitiated the supernatural was a hard sell and Dave had just had a whole heap of crazy sounding shit dumped in his lap.
But the sympathy only went so far because Dave had to know that what was going on at his site was outside of normal. If it had only been one or two strange incidents maybe he could have deluded himself with a conclusion based on some extraordinarily rare cause and effect, but he was beyond that now, there was no way the catalogue of accidents at the site could be explained rationally. The fact that he wasn't yelling in outrage or arguing heatedly was an indication that a supernatural explanation for his problems wasn't too much of a stretch for Dave to believe.
The manager rubbed a hand across his forehead, closed his eyes and looked beaten.
"So you'll use the sonar and…?"
"Locate the bones," Sam quickly offered, feeling the tide turning in their favor. "We'll dig them up, salt and burn them out back…," at the look of confusion on the construction manager's face Sam held up a hand and said, "it's a ritual thing, it just completes the process. And that should be the end of your troubles."
Sam left it there, with possible complications unmentioned. Dave didn't need to be too fully informed, and they really couldn't predict exactly how it all might go down, there was no point volunteering pessimistic outcomes that may not occur.
"Will it be dangerous?" Maud asked in a small voice.
"Nah," Dean retorted flippantly. "Piece of cake. We do this all the time."
Maud didn't seem entirely convinced but gave Dean a warm smile, appreciating the bravado.
"What do I have to do?" Dave queried.
"Just give us the keys and stay the hell away," Dean replied.
"Uh…" Dave balked. "I think I'd rather be here with you."
"No, Dave, trust me, you'd rather not be here."
Dave frowned and said hesitantly. "I'm not sure about leaving you guys alone in the building. I'm responsible for what happens. I think I should be here."
Dean clicked his tongue and shuffled impatiently, getting annoyed by the reticence, starting to think they should have just broken into the site without informing the manager and done what had to be done.
"Jesus Christ Dave," Dean said roughly. "What do you think we're going to do? Steal your drywall? We're not fooling around here. You've got a tricky situation and we can fix it. But we're not doing it with you looking over our shoulder, getting in the way."
Dave stared at Dean looking somewhat abashed but still struggling with trust. He didn't really know these guys and they were asking a lot of him.
His gaze slid to Ada and Maud and he sought in their faces the reassurance he needed. He leaned forward in his chair and motioned the women to come in close, like a sidebar at a trial.
When their heads were together Dave asked quietly, pitching his voice low so the boys wouldn't hear, "You really think these guys are legit?"
Ada patted his hand and nodded. "We really do."
"Would you trust them alone in your house?"
The Brit chuckled. "If I had a ghost? Absolutely. They seem to know what they're talking about."
Dave gave the women a tight lipped nod and leaned back in his chair, disbanding the sub-group. There was a clear play of emotions across his features, internal arguments and counter-arguments fighting for supremacy. With a deep sigh, Dave said softly, "Yeah, alright then. You can have the place to yourselves tonight."
The underlying despair, the downcast eyes which hinted at I am so screwed caused a flush of pity in Sam and he said, "We know you want to protect your investment, Dave. That's what we want too. We just want to make sure no-one else gets hurt here. If we thought it was safe then we'd have no qualms about you being by our side, but these things need some experience, they can be unpredictable and it's better for everyone if we face it alone."
Dave gave Sam a taut smile, a hint of appreciation in his eyes, grateful to the young man for his understanding and reassurance, but not entirely cured of his grave concerns. With forced brightness he proclaimed, "Then it looks like I'm leaving this to the professionals."
"Good for you Dave. I think you made the right choice," Maud professed. "You don't want the bones of some child molester in your lovely tourist attraction. That'd be bad karma."
Dave snorted. Bad karma. He seemed to be covered in it at the moment.
Ada turned to Dean, worry lining her face. "What happens if something goes wrong?"
Dean puffed out a breath, like the idea was preposterous. "You heard the man. We're professionals. What could go wrong?"
Ada coughed and said something that sounded suspiciously like 'bullshit' before continuing, "But you two are going to be on your own. What if something happens? What if it doesn't go to plan? No one will be there to help you."
Dean tried not to find offence in the words, knew she wasn't intentionally inferring that they were incompetent. "What part of being professionals don't you understand?"
"I was just thinking that maybe Maud and I should come along..."
"No way," Dean cut her off with a vehement shake of the head.
But she persisted. "If anything goes wrong, we can be on hand to help or call 911 or get the body bag out."
"I just told Dave he can't stay, no way am I saying yes to you."
"We don't have to be involved, just on the sidelines, onlookers, making sure you're safe."
"No Ada." Dean's voice rose. "No. Way"
Ada opened her mouth, but Dean cut her off with a point of his finger. "Shut it. Forget it. It's not happening. If I see your face tonight I am going to kick your ass, make no mistake. We need all our focus on the job, any distractions are just going to be dangerous."
Ada's lips pressed tightly into a thin line and she stared at Dean for a long unblinking moment, contemplating further challenge. But she could tell from his tone, the tension in his features that he was immovable on the subject, that opposition was futile, so she backed down with, "Well I want it noted for the record that I am not happy about it, not happy at all."
"Duly noted," Dean tersely replied. "All of you," he shifted his gaze around the group, making eye contact with the two women and the manager, "will stay away from this place until Sam and I give the all clear. You got that?"
Ada sighed dramatically and gave a begrudging nod. Dave too gave a nod that wasn't entirely willing. Maud hesitated, looked at the others to gauge the consensus then added herself to the majority.
Dave walked the group out of the site and bade them a dour farewell at the gate without lingering for any final pleasantries.
Sam thanked the women for their help in getting Dave on-side. It was going to make their job much easier not having to sneak around, not having to worry about being caught or interrupted.
As the brothers turned to leave Ada put a hand on Dean's arm and said quietly, "Just promise you'll be careful, yeah?"
He gave her a cocky smile and replied, "Always."
Ada shook her head at the infuriating self confidence and felt real trepidation as she watched the brothers walk away, wondering what might be in store for them tonight.
A/N:
Okay, last couple of chapters have been a little dry. We wanted to get the set up right, be clear on what was going on. Now we can move onto some action.