"Dean, we need to call the police. If it is human, we can't stop him."
"You wanna make a bet. We can stop the son of a bitch alright," Dean snarled, as he stood studying the riverbank where the Rusalka had claimed her victims.
Sam frowned at his brother's words, keeping his eyes peeled on the creek, he answered, "We're not killers, Dean. We'll take care of the Rusalka and leave the killer for the cops."
"Really, Sam, we're not killers. Last time I checked we kill all sorts of monsters, and this guy, whoever he is, is a monster." Dean's hard gaze met Sam's.
Sam knew there was no point in arguing with his brother. For now, their priority was to prevent any more deaths. "So what now?"
"Now? Well for now, you're going to stay here and watch for our ghost girl. I'm going to do a sweep of the park, whoever this guy is he's got to be doing his killings at night." Dean stared hard at the creek for a moment. "What I don't get is why no one's reporting these girls missing. I mean after all, we know of at least two, and if we're right there maybe more."
"I don't know, Dean," Sam said, hesitantly, considering if he should say more. "You know people leave home all the time and never return, no calls, nothing."
Dean grimaced. "It's not the same, Sam. You may not have called, but that doesn't mean I didn't know where you were and what you were doing. If you had needed me, I would have been there," Dean confessed, his eyes staying determinedly fixed on the creek.
"I know, man." Sam stared at his brother, once again surprised by the fact that his family had stuck by him, even if he hadn't known itat the time.
"Yeah, well you walked out in anger, Sam. I got that, it didn't stop me from keeping tabs on you. You're my kid brother." As Sam opened his mouth to speak, Dean held up a hand. "Stop right there. I have no interest in discussing it anymore and I sure as hell am not going to hug you, Francis."
Sam couldn't quite contain his grin, leave it to Dean to admit just how much he cared, only to finish the admission with an insult. "Alright then, I'll stay here and watch out for the Rusalka. I'll meet you back at the cabin at sunrise."
"Sounds good, cell's on if you need me," Dean said, as he turned and walked away.
Sam watched as his leave, the parks floodlights shining down on his leather clad back. He couldn't help but feel comforted by the thought that Dean had always been there for him, would always be there. Turning back toward the riverbank, Sam kept his gaze peeled for the vengeance spirit.
888
Frank stood and watched the cabin, though he was certain it was empty, he wanted to be sure. After all, even the smallest mistake would find him back in jail, rotting as his life passed him by. There was no way he was going to let that happen this time.
He'd watched from the woods, as first the younger man had stumbled onto the body he'd hidden. Then the hard-eyed older man, the one that had worried Frank so much earlier, had come in response to the other's call. He'd been unable to hear their words, however, he had quickly realized that they hadn't called the police, that in and of itself had made Frank worry.
So, he'd followed the younger man as he returned to the river where he'd killed the first girl. There Frank sat for a while, watching as the kid played sentry.
Finally, once he'd been sure the shaggy-haired youth was going to stay put, Frank had searched out the other one. Unable to find him in the vast space the park encompassed, he'd gone back to the cabin and had waited for a while, making sure no one was home.
Once he'd determined the cabin was empty, he'd used his maintenance key to open the door. Moving swiftly Frank had searched the room, looking for some clue as to who his opponents were. At first he hadn't found anything of importance, until he stumbled across a hunting knife. Though more ornate and made of what appeared to be silver, it was similar enough to his to serve his purpose. Careful not to ruin the prints that were already on the knife, he picked it up with the edge of his shirt and made his way out the door and into the approaching dawn.
Tonight would be the night, all he needed was one last victim. He would plant the knife and call the police himself, electively leading them toward the men. As a stranger to town, with his prints all over the knife and the dead girl in hand, the older man would be quickly buried in the investigation and would be unable to prove that it had been Frank all along. In the resulting confusion, Frank could pick up and leave with no one following his trail.
He was certain, wherever he ended up next, he would finally be able to control the voices. That he'd be able to finally live his life in peace. Heading back to his cabin, he quietly let himself in. Carefully he buried the knife in his footlocker and relocked the trunk. Lying down on the bed, he stretched out content that within a matter of days he would once again be free.
888
Dean stood and watched as the first rays of sunlight pierced the sky. Satisfied that for the moment at least, the killer would be forced to go to ground, he headed for the cabin. Rubbing a hand wearily across the back of his neck, he set his mind to conjuring fantasies of a real shower, followed by a real bed. Rather than the bug infested, sprinkler with a two-minute timer, and one of the seven dwarf's cots he knew awaited him. He made a promise to himself, as soon as this job was done he was headed for the first motel he could find.
He'd patrolled the park from one end to the other all night and had found nothing of interest. So, either this mystery man was good, better than him good, which he doubted, or he was finished for the night. Either way, finding the guy was going to be nearly impossible. The park employed hundreds and over half of them were men. Sam's description of a tall man in a uniform wasn't going help narrow the field much.
As he approached the cabin, he noticed Sam sprawled out on one of the rocking chairs that sat on the small porch. Careful to make no noise, Dean made his way toward him. Sam leaned back in the chair, his head lolling to one side, his mouth slightly open.
Once Dean was within an inch of his brother, he dropped a fist onto Sam's chest mimicking the psycho shower scene. Sam jumped a mile, his cry of surprise echoing around the quiet morning. As he jerked, the chair tipped all the way back, toppling Sam to the ground.
Dean unable to control it, burst into laughter, holding his sides he bent over at the waist gasping for breath, as he laughed.
"What the hell, Dean?" Sam cried, still blinking the sleep out of his eyes, as he struggled to get his legs untangled from the chair.
Dean finally gathered himself, his laughter trailing off, he said, "Sorry, Sam, couldn't resist." Holding out a hand to help Sam up, Dean had to laugh even more when his brother refused to take it. "Come on, I couldn't help myself. No reason to get your panties in a bunch."
Sam glowered at Dean and pushed himself to his feet. "My panties aren't in a bunch. I mean...you just startled me, that's all." Sam gestured toward the cabin door. "I forgot my key. Can you open the door?" Sam blew out a breath, as Dean continued to laugh. "Just open the door, Chuckles."
Dean, still laughing, held up his hand in surrender. "Sure thing, Sam." Pulling out his key, Dean unlocked it. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, he stepped inside and flicked on the light switch.
"Holy shit," Dean breathed out, as he looked about the cabin's interior. As Sam stepped up beside him, he exchanged a glance with his brother. "Well, this isn't good."
The room had been searched and searched thoroughly. Their duffle bags holding their clothes and weapons had been emptied. Their mattresses' had been pulled off the bunks, and everything they owned was scattered from one end of the small cabin to the other.
"Well, I guess that answers that," Dean said, as he moved forward, grabbing their weapons as he went.
Sam stood frowning in anxiety. "What's that?"
"This is proof the killer knows you saw him, he's trying to get the jump on us. Hell, what am I saying, he's got the jump on us already."
"Can you tell if he took anything?" Sam asked, as he began separating his clothes from Dean's.
Dean began filling the weapons bag once more, careful to look for anything that might be missing. It took only a moments searching for Dean to realize something was gone. Turning to his brother, he said, "My knife."
Sam began frantically rifling through the mess, determined to find Dean's knife. It took only an instant, before he gave up and stared at Dean. "Shit, Dean, it's gone, he's trying to set you up. What are we going to do?"
Dean couldn't believe this mystery man had gotten the jump on him. "We're going to find the son of a bitch before he has a chance to use that knife on some other woman."
888
Karen had just stepped out of the shower, when she heard a knock on the cabin door. Quickly pulling on a bathrobe, she headed for the front door. She could not help but wonder who would be knocking, at eight in the morning. Today was her day off, her plans now that Sam hadn't met her after work as hoped, were to catch up on her laundry. Wow, she thought as she moved to open the door, she was living the life.
Pulling it open, she stood warily in the doorframe. The early morning sun, created a halo of light over the occupant on the front porch. Surprised, she asked, "What are you doing here?"
Sam stepped forward and smiled a bit uneasily. "Hi, Karen, can we talk?"
Karen nodded and stepped back, ushering Sam inside. "Sure."
888
Sam hated to lie to the woman before him, but he could see no alternative. To tell the truth would open up too many questions and the answers would serve only to drive Karen away. Stepping into her house, he followed her into the kitchen. Within minutes, he was sitting at the kitchen table, with a cup of coffee in hand.
"Just give me a minute to get dressed, I'll be right back," Karen said, as she stepped out of the room.
Sam, unable to sit any longer, stood up and began pacing around the kitchen. Moving toward the white refrigerator, he glanced at the pictures that graced the front. It took him only a moment to spot a group of four girls, standing before one of the parks rides, arms linked as they smiled brightly at the camera. Sam easily spotted Karen, staring intently he also recognized one of the other girls. Though her face looked different, shining and bright in the sunshine, he was sure it was the murdered girl he'd found last night. Removing the picture from the fridge, Sam sat back down and waited for Karen to emerge.
Karen was as good as her word. Within minutes, she was back, dressed in shorts and a tank top, her hair hanging long, and loose. Pouring herself a coffee, she looked at the picture that Sam held in his hands. "That was taken earlier this summer. The other girls are my roommates."
Sam nodded and pointed toward the other dark-haired girl. "When was the last time you saw this girl?"
Karen frowned a bit at Sam's question, but answered, "Tricia? Yesterday morning. She works one of the snack stands, our schedules are different."
"She didn't come home last night?" Sam still couldn't drag his gaze away from the photo in his hand.
"What's going on Sam? What's with the interrogation? I'm not sure if Tricia came home, sometimes she stays with her boyfriend."
Sam could tell he was beginning to make Karen nervous. Smiling he said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you yesterday, Karen, but I'm here investigating a missing persons report." Sam dug out the badge he carried in his jacket and flashed it. "I'm a detective."
"I don't understand, are you saying Tricia's missing, because I'm sure she's just holed up with Brian?" Karen backed away from Sam.
"I was here investigating Sandy Davis' disappearance, and now I have reason to believe that Tricia may also be missing," Sam kept his voice low and soothing, he could see that Karen was having a hard time keeping up.
"Sandy Davis, is missing. I heard she took off, but I just assumed she got a job working somewhere else for the summer?" Karen chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. "You're a cop and you didn't tell me? I thought, I mean I kinda figured you..."
Sam stood and approached her, careful not to startle her. "I do, I mean, I am. Let me start over. I am a cop and I couldn't say anything that might jeopardize my case, but also, I was, I mean, I am..." Sam's voice trailed off.
Karen couldn't help but smile at Sam's obvious embarrassment. "Yeah, that's much clearer. Okay, so I can understand why you think Sandy's missing, but why Tricia?"
Here was the tricky part, thought Sam, how to make her believe that Tricia was missing without revealing what he'd found in the woods. "We don't know that she's missing, not for sure. But, you've confirmed she didn't sleep here last night and we know she didn't arrive for work this morning. And honestly, we believe that there's a connection between Sandy and Tricia."
"What connection? As far as I knew Sandy and Tricia didn't even really know each other." Karen paused for a moment, reaching out she picked up the picture and stared hard it, finally she spoke, "Except, they both looked alike." Karen's gaze slid to Sam. "Right, they both looked alike, the same height, hair, and coloring."
Sam nodded, hoping that Karen would stop there, he really didn't want her to take her reasoning any farther, but he could see by her face it was too late. He placed a hand on the young girl's arm and smiled reassuringly up at her. "Hey, it's okay. We're not even positive there is a connection, it's just a best guess at this point. We really need more information before we can be sure."
Karen's voice quivered, as she asked, "What kind of information?"
"Well, I need to verify some facts, and I remembered you saying you have internet access here." Sam indicated the bag he'd brought with him containing his laptop. "I was hoping I could use it."
Karen smiled slightly. "Sure. So that's it, huh. You came here to borrow my internet connection?"
Sam met Karen's smile and matched it, "Yeah. That's the only reason."