Chapter 3
Sam stood nearby and watched as Judith cleaned the blood from his brother's face and applied a bandage to the gash on his forehead. Dean sat stoically as the woman dabbed at the wound. She reached inside the first aid kit on the counter and produced an adequate-sized bandage. She didn't speak, but was obviously distressed by the incident. Both brothers noticed how her hands shook slightly and her brow furrowed deeply as she worked.
The well-appointed lobby was empty and eerily quiet. There were no other guests at the castle, no doubt because the news had leaked out about the deaths. Sam scanned his brother again, making sure the head wound was the extent of his injuries. He noticed that some of the blood had dripped onto the collar of what Dean referred to as his "damn monkey suit". Both brothers had donned a jacket and tie to look more official. Apparently not official enough Sam thought, frowning as he watched his brother wince slightly. Judith backed off from her ministrations.
"I'm really sorry about this, boys." She looked around and lowered her voice. "Kendall is very moody. He's been like this for awhile. I don't know if he's depressed or what, but he can be downright violent and paranoid at times."
Sam and Dean exchanged glances, both wondering where Kendall had gone. Soon after helping Dean to the lobby, he had bolted from the room. Sam had been too focused on his brother to notice much else. But now that Judith was talking, he realized they now had an opportunity to find out more about the couple.
"Judith, was your husband like this before you moved into this castle?"
The older woman looked uncomfortable and averted her eyes from Sam. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."
Sam decided to adopt his CDC persona again, hoping to remind the woman they were there on an official investigation. "Mrs. Conroy, if there is something here at the inn that could be creating a toxic environment, we need to know. Sometimes chemical imbalances can occur in the brain from environmental anomalies. This could be connected in some way to these deaths. We need to check out every possible angle."
Dean looked at his brother with amusement. Way to go college boy.
Still looking uncomfortable, but acquiescing, Judith answered in a low voice. "I – I just don't like talking about Kendall like this. He's always been such a wonderful husband and business partner. But after we moved in here, he began to change. It was very subtle at first, but now he's like two different people and I never know from hour to hour which Kendall I'm going to be facing." She looked at both boys, tears welling in her eyes.
Sam looked sympathetic. "Has he seen a doctor?"
Judith shook her head and frowned. "Oh, no I can't even suggest it. He'd take my head off if I said that he wasn't acting normal. He physically attacked me once, but he doesn't remember doing it. He says I'm the crazy one."
"Okay, don't worry, Judith," Sam touched her arm, trying to reassure the woman. "We'll be asking him some questions then, and we will get to the bottom of this. If there is something here causing all of this, we'll find it, and hopefully help Kendall in the process."
The woman smiled slightly and packed up the first aid kit, just as Kendall came bounding into the room carrying an unopened fifth of scotch. He approached Dean, who sat on the stool behind the check-in counter, fingering his bandage to make sure it was secure. Sam instantly became alert and positioned himself slightly in front of his brother as the unpredictable man neared.
"I imagine you have a whopper of a headache, son. Again, I'm sorry. Do you like scotch?" Kendall was downright jovial and lifted the bottle towards the boys, an expectant expression on his ruddy face.
Slightly surprised, Dean lifted his eyebrows and then gave the man a crooked smile. "Is the Pope Catholic? Hey, I'd put in on my cereal if I could." Sam looked at his brother and smirked slightly, not surprised by Dean's ability to go with this odd behavior.
"Well then, you'll like this. It is the best stuff I've ever drank, and that's saying something, too, cuz I've drank a lot of scotch in my day." Kendall enthused, presenting the bottle to Dean, who took it and thanked him. He then went and grabbed some glasses from the buffet. Sam shot Dean a questioning look and Dean shrugged.
"Let's open her up then. It'll help your headache."
"I don't know Kendall," Sam intervened. "It's a little early, and we are still officially on duty, you know."
"Oh come on, now. Mr. Whitman here has been injured on the job. I'd say he's done for the day, wouldn't you?"
Dean was puzzled. The guy had just clocked him a good one and now he wanted to have drinks? However, Dean wasn't one to pass up a good scotch, either. Besides, maybe by sharing some drinks, they could discover more details about the castle and Kendall's problem.
"It's okay, Sam. It may help get rid of my headache. Besides, I'm curious now. I have to taste this stuff and see if it's as good as Kendall here claims."
Sam snorted. "You know Dean, I think alcohol only works on hangover headaches, not those caused by a possible concussion."
Kendall held up his hand. "Stop right there boy, whiskey is known as the "water of life" and has been used for medicinal purposes for hundreds of years. Aqua vitae and all that. The monks were master distillers. In fact, this whiskey right here was made in 1850 in the UK. They shipped these barrels over for the owners of this castle. They shipped both whiskey and port wine. It is unbelievable. If there wasn't so much down in that cellar, I'd be hording it and selling it on E-Bay. I still may. I may have a fortune sitting down there."
"Wow, looks like you hit the mother lode then. It's mighty nice of you to share this," Dean told the man, although he was feeling more than a little skeptical about the age and source of the brew. He didn't want to question too much yet, though because they still needed Kendall's cooperation.
Sam, however, had no such reservations. "Why wasn't this discovered a long time ago? I mean, the previous owners must have known about it. Those barrels can't all still be full."
Kendall's smile vanished and he turned his attention to Sam. "The previous owners did know about it. They were descendents of the master distiller. They didn't touch the barrels because they believed there was a curse of some kind associated with them. Their great-grandfather suffered a violent death during the transport from Europe and several of the workman who brought them to the castle were killed when some of the barrels fell on them. The family freaked out and was going to dump them all, but a local businessman urged them to keep the inventory intact because it would be worth a lot of money if they could sell them to brokers on the Barbary Coast in California."
"So what happened, then? Obviously it wasn't sold."
"They tried, several times, but every time a buyer traveled over to Holyoke, they died before the transaction could be completed."
Dean looked at Sam. "That's odd. Did they all die the same way?"
"Nope. All freak accidents. But it upset the family so much they decided to seal up the cellar. When we purchased the inn, they informed us about everything and didn't add the collection to the purchase price. I was stoked, because I figured they were a bunch of superstitious ninnies. So far, I'd say that's all they were. I opened up the cellar and no curse has come down on my head."
"What about the break-ins and vandalism you mentioned?" Sam pressed.
"Hell, that's life in the 21st century, kid. No crazy curse. There's always crime happening somewhere." Kendall set the glasses on the counter and took the bottle from Dean. "Now, that's enough of the history course, boys. Like a true Scot, I am inviting you to share a drink with me."
"Well, I don't think Sam here wants to go against company policy, but as you pointed out, I'm off the clock, so I'll join you in that drink," Dean told Kendall, holding his glass while the older man poured the amber liquid.
Kendall raised his glass to Dean's. "Bottom's up," he proclaimed and then he and Dean both drank their shots down in one swallow.