They pulled up to the corner of CR 19 and Old Prospect and saw the area taped off with crime scene tape. There was a sheet covering a spot in the middle of the intersection, Sam could tell that there was a body under that sheet. And because he saw the Impala a few yards away, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was Dean under that sheet, and his heart felt like it was going to shrivel to the size of a raisin.
As the truck came to a halt, Sam climbed out and walked toward the taped off area. Still not in the best condition, he sank to his knees as a gentle breeze blew back the edge of the cloth to reveal Dean's boot.
An EMT came over to Sam, but he waived her off. She walked over to an officer and pointed Sam out to him.
"Can I help you, son?"
Sam looked up with a wet face. "He's--"
"He's new." Bobby jumped in before Sam could say something incriminating. Sam was still wanted in several states and hunted by the FBI after their escape from prison. Since they did not know how much these officers knew, it was better not to let them know he was Dean Winchester's illustrious brother. "We're the tow truck you called. The boy's never seen a crime scene before. Tom, why don't you go back and sit in the truck, I'll handle this one."
The old rotund sheriff laughed a belly laugh, "Well, you'll have to get over that, son, if you intend to last in this business." He turned back to Bobby. "Car's over there," he pointed to the Impala.
Bobby nodded and headed over to the car with the old sheriff. "Wow, will you look at that. I haven't seen a car like that in years. What do you say, mint condition?" He asked, leaning in the driver's window, feigning interest in the dials and gadgets. Really he was trying to find any ID's that may give him a clue as to what identification Dean had on his person.
"Looks like it," the sheriff said. "But that's not the strangest thing about this car." He walked around to the trunk and pulled open the lid that had just been down, not latched. "Trunk was open when we got here, so we took a gander inside. 'Ts filled with all sorts of weird stuff. Looks like this guy could'a been a serial killer or something. Whole bunch of satanic mumbo jumbo in a couple of books in there, too."
Bobby scratched his head, apparently the boys didn't invent lying to the cops, because he was very adept at this. "Damn," he said as though what the sheriff had just said were completely foreign to him. He picked up Dean's favorite hunting knife from the open trunk as if to admire it, but as he did the sheriff grabbed it out of his hand.
"Sorry," The old man said as he placed the knife back in it's place in the trunk arsenal. "It is still a crime scene."
"Nope, I should'a known better." Bobby conceded. He stepped back from the car as the sheriff closed the trunk. "Where you want her taken?"
"The impound lot just outside of Hitchcock. Just take her there and they'll handle the rest."
Bobby stuck out his hand to shake the sheriff's. "Alright, you'll be gettin' our bill." As the sheriff walked away Bobby walked back to his truck.
"Thanks, Bobby." Sam said.
Bobby looked at Sam's pathetic form and shook his head. "Anytime. You've gotta be careful now. You're not a team anymore, and right now that body lying out there is working against you. They're gonna find out things about him that are going to get you in a lot of trouble, depending on what you tell them. Let's just get the car outta here and we'll figure out how to get Dean back later."
Sam looked at Bobby with a look of protest on his face. "I can't leave him, Bobby. They're gonna dissect him!"
"Sam! Think about this! There are too many people here right now. We'll have to bust him out of the morgue later." Bobby was trying to focus on lining the truck up to tow the Impala without drawing attention to themselves, and arguing with Sam was not helping. "Now, stay in here, I'm gonna hook up the car."