Dean glanced down at the ID in his hand. Although it was, in fact, a picture of him, the hard plastic card held no actual information, just an official looking seal and a few vague words. Basically, just enough to past muster if he flashed it quick. As he approached the woman that sat behind the large wooden desk, in the administration office, he quickly flashed her smile and his badge. "Jim Morrison with the IRS. We are in the process of determining whether we need to audit the park. I'd appreciate it if you could hand over your employee records for the last ten years."
The look of sheer panic that overcame the older woman's face at Dean's words, made him instantly regret his cover story. Holding up a hand, trying to stem the tide of words she was now spewing, Dean said, "It's okay we're just doing some preliminary research." Dean glanced at the nameplate that rested on the desk, "Um, Deloris."
Deloris clutched a hand to her heart as her eyes flooded with tears. "Oh, I'm going to be blamed for this I just know it, but I swear it's not my fault. I've told him over and over again that I shouldn't forge his signature. But he says to me, 'Deloris, who's gonna know.' Who's gonna know the IRS I said, but does he listen to me, no."
Dean had a sudden urge to cover his ears, Deloris' high-pitched whine was nearly enough to shatter glass. Hoping to calm the overwrought woman, Dean said, "That's not why I'm here. Really, please if you could just calm down."
As Deloris continued to flit about the office gathering paperwork and bemoaning the fact that she'd soon be in jail, Dean dropped down into a chair set along the window. As he waited for the information, he glanced out at the bustling crowds that lined the fairway.
888
Karen watched appreciatively as Sam sat at her kitchen table. She couldn't help but laugh as he, again, cursed the slowness of her dial-up connection.
Glancing up with a frown, his smile slowly grew to match hers. "Sorry," he said with a half-shrug. "Dean's always saying I have no patience when I'm researching."
Karen nodded, trying to hide the confusion she felt. Dean's name had been mentioned several times and with a great deal of familiarity. Not sure how to broach the subject, Karen began, "So, you and Dean, you've been partners for awhile?"
Sam didn't even glance up from the screen. "Forever," he answered with the same weary tone couples used when they've been together for years.
Huh, thought Karen, trying a different tact. "I guess you guys must love it when a case is over, you know, get a little breathing room from each other."
Sam grimaced at the information before him. "No, we're actually always together. Hey, listen, I think I found something."
Karen was torn between questioning Sam further or hearing what he'd found out. Finally, she decided she didn't really want to hear anymore in regards to Dean. "What do you have?"
"Well I ran a search across the country on woman fitting the missing girl's description, cross referenced with stab wounds all within the last forty years."
Karen couldn't help but be impressed with the handsome man's thoroughness. "Wow, you really do know what you're doing."
Sam grinned. "Yeah, well in my line of work, I unfortunately get a lot of practice..." A loud banging on the screen door, followed by a voice bellowing his name interrupted Sam.
"Sam, you in there?" Karen heard a man call out.
Sam shot Karen an embarrassed look as he moved to open the door. In only a few minutes he was back, hissing in a low voice to a handsome green-eyed man. Karen couldn't help but feel her hopes crash as she caught the last bit of the conversation.
888
Dean called out, "Sam, you in there?" his voice edged with impatience. Sam had left the cabin nearly four hours ago. If it had been any one other than Sam, he would have assumed that a little nookie had caused the delay. With his brother though, Dean was sure it was a lack of information that was slowing him up. Just as Dean raised a hand to knock once more, Sam stormed to the back door and flung it wide open with a growl.
"What are you doing here? I told you I'd meet you at the information desk. You're supposed to be checking out the staff." Sam motioned Dean in, continuing his tirade in a low hiss. "How am I supposed to find anything out with you breathing down my neck?" Sam led the way back to the kitchen.
Dean lifted a brow in irritation, reaching out one hand, he stopped Sam. "I was there, there's too many men, any of whom could fit your description. We need something concrete on this guy before he strikes again."
Sam's anger with his brother fled instantly. "I know. Come on in, I think I have something." Sam led the way.
As they walked Dean shouldered Sam, "Bitch."
Sam's response was heartfelt, "Jerk."
Dean followed his brother into the kitchen, a flash of smile for Karen. His heart wasn't in it though, to him Karen was a victim waiting to happen. Dean's mind went back to his stolen knife, it didn't take a genius to figure out it was stolen for a reason, and he knew just what that reason was. Knowing what was going to happen didn't help. Regardless of the fact he knew he was being set up, regardless of the fact he knew another girl was in danger, he could do nothing about it.
Frustration tinted his words as he turned toward Sam, "Okay, little brother, time's up. What've you got?"
Sam shook his dark shaggy head, his gaze focused once more on the computer. "Frank Thompson was arrested in Tucson, Arizona in 1987, he killed his girlfriend. Her name was Maria Romero, she was eighteen years old, Frank was thirty. From everything I could find out, he believed she was stepping out on him, he confronted her, and they fought. She was found dead the next morning with seven stab wounds, he was arrested later that night."
"Okay, if he was arrested then how's he our guy?" Dean asked, his frown deepening. He hated dealing with people, it was one thing for a spirit to kill, they were confused and limited in thoughts and feelings. But people, it was a crap shoot, they did what they did and no amount of remorse or anger could justify it in Dean's book.
"Yeah, I think he is. Frank escaped a maximum security mental institution eleven years ago. They never found him, he just disappeared." Sam sat back and rubbed his eyes.
Dean could see the fatigue etched into his brother's face. He knew if he bothered to look, he would find that same expression on his own face. They were both tired, and worn thin. Add to it the pressure of finding the killer before he struck again, and basically it was a miracle he and Sam weren't in lock down in some place with white padded walls. "So you think old Frank made it all the way here and is re-living his greatest moment?"
"Could be, I tracked a string of missing girls, all fitting Maria's description over the last eleven years. It seems as if he only hits every three or four years, bodies are never found, the girls are just listed as missing." Sam turned toward Dean once more, his face set in anger. "Last place four girls went missing was in Ohio. Every one of them lived in or around Sandusky, Ohio, home of the famous Cedar Point Amusement park"
Karen spoke up for the first time, "You mean he's been working amusement parks killing girls?"
"Yeah, that's what I mean, I found accounts of missing girls from Ohio, Tennessee and Michigan. Near as I can tell, ten or eleven girls altogether."
"No more girls will go missing, we're gonna find the bastard and put him down like the dog he is." Dean didn't bother to hide his rage. Twelve girls and no one realized it, and even if they did stop Frank, no one would ever know what had happened to those girls.
"We will, Dean, we'll stop him." Sam's words were a promise.
"So how are we gonna figure out who it is, I mean, he must be using a different name? I don't know anyone named Frank," Karen asked her eyes wide with fright, she'd unconsciously stepped closer to Sam, her arm brushing his shoulder.
DeanwatchedKaren for a moment, his eyes narrowed as he began to formulate a plan. They needed something to draw this guy out, they needed bait. There really wasn't any other option, they were out of time and if they failed some poor girl would die.
888
Sam sat conscious of the exact point where Karen's arm brushed his, even through his worry and fear for her safety and that of the other girls, he couldn't help the attraction he felt for her. Unable to meet her direct gaze as she waited for him to come up with some brilliant plan, he snuck a peek at his brother.
Sam was up in a flash, nearly knocking Karen over in the process. He knew the expression on his brother's face, he knew what Dean was considering. "No Dean, you're not using her for bait." Sam pushed Karen behind him, crossing his arms, he met his brother's gaze with a glare. "I won't let you, Dean. I'm not going to let you put her in danger, this guy's insane, we don't know how he'll react."
"Oh, I think we've got a pretty good idea, Sam. We let this guy go any longer and someone's going to die, and I'm betting I'll be set up to take the fall." Dean's gaze never wavered. "You think I want this, Sam? I don't, but this guy has to be stopped and it has to be now."
Sam couldn't believe it was coming down to this. "I won't allow it, Dean. No way, after Madison do you really think I'm going to put her in danger. I won't do it." Sam knew he sounded like a five year old, but he refused to back down. There was no way he was going to allow Karen to be dangled over this killer as bait. No way he was going to take part in the death of another woman.
Dean's voice dropped an octave, his hard gaze softened just a bit. "Sam, that wasn't your fault. You did everything you could for Madison. As for now, we have no other choice, we have to stop this guy."
Sam suddenly felt small hands shoving at his back. Sliding over a bit, he stepped back at the glare on Karen's face as she moved to stand face to face with the brothers.
"Excuse me, but it's my life you're talking about here. I'm a grown woman, I can make my own decisions." Karen folded her arms and glared at the brothers, her posture mirroring Dean's stance.
"Karen," Sam began, only to have her angry glare cut off his words.
"Don't Karen me, I just found out this bastard killed a friend of mine, not to mention countless others. What kind of person do you think I am? Did you think I'd just sit here safe and sound while he goes on killing?" Karen turned to Dean. "You tell me what I need to do, and I'll do it."
Sam could see the admiration in Dean's face as his brother turned to meet the young
girl's gaze. "No, I won't allow it. It's too dangerous."
888
Dean watched as Sam stormed out of Karen's kitchen, he knew how his brother felt, he just didn't see they had any choice. Dean moved toward the kitchen window and watched his brother, his shoulders hunched against his emotions, head off down the path.
"I want to help, Dean." Karen's low voice caught Dean's attention.
"I know you do, Sam understands, he's just worried. He's lost people he cares about because of what we do, he just doesn't want you hurt." Dean's eyes strayed once more toward the window. His mind was already working and discarding plans, trying to figure out the best way to keep Karen safe and to trap the bastard.
"So what now, do I just wander the park and hope he chooses me?" Karen asked, the trembling of her hands belying her matter of fact voice.
Dean stared hard at Karen. "No, we do this, we do it right. I'm not going be responsible for you getting hurt. You'll do what I say or so help me God, I'll leave you tied up to your bed until it's over."
Karen held up her hands in supplication. "No problem, I'm not looking to end up dead."
Dean grinned and gestured toward the coffee pot. "How about a cup of coffee and we'll sit down and figure out how to keep you alive and catch the bad guy."
Karen smiled and nodded. "Sounds good, but..." here she hesitated not sure if she should continue. Looking out the kitchen window, she continued, "what about Sam?"
"Sam'll come around, he knows there's nothing else to be done. He'll be back." Dean's eyes strayed toward the window, he couldn't fight down the chill of unease that was crawling down his spine. He found himself wishing Sam was here now, after all, there was a killer on the loose. A killer that knew the Winchesters were onto him. A killer that knew what Sam looked like.
Dean was heading for the door before Karen had finished pouring his coffee. "I'm gonna take a rain check on that coffee. I wanna check out a couple things before it gets much later." Dean was at the front door, when he turned and said to an obviously confused Karen. "Lock this door and every window in the house. Do not leave and most of all, don't answer the door for anyone. Do you understand, no one, not even if you recognize them? Sam and I'll be back in an hour."
Karen nodded, despite her wide eyes and pale skin, her voice was steady. "I won't, not for anyone but you or Sam."
"I'll be back." Dean found himself hurrying out the door, pausing only until he heard the lock snub into place. Taking off at a run, he pulled out his cell and dialed Sam's number. As he waited for an answer, he reached the park, despite the early hour the place was packed. Dodging bawling children, scowling teenagers and even the occasional dog, he searched for his brother.
888
Karen carefully flipped the bolt home on the door, resting against it for a moment she thought over everything she'd learned over the past couple of hours. Her emotions were running the gambit from anger to grief to fear and even a bit of relief.
Anger toward the man that was doing the killing, anger at the people that had allowed him to live after he'd killed the first time. Grief for her friend and the countless, nameless girls he'd killed and the families that would never now just what had happened to the missing girls. Fear, fear was in the forefront at the moment. Fear for herself, fear for any other girls that were near that fit the description and fear for the men that were trying to keep her safe. Finally, in the back of her mind, probably one of the few things that was helping to keep her sane, was the thought that Sam and Dean were brothers. That his claim yesterday to that fact hadn't been part of their cover. Suddenly, the brothers relationship seemed obvious, Karen had a sister and she knew what it was to fight, nag and love a sibling.
Karen sighed and pushed away from the window, starting in the kitchen she systematically began closing and locking every window in the small house. Relatively sure that her roommates wouldn't return till late evening, Karen sat at the table and began to read through the research Sam had left regarding Frank Thompson.
888
Frank eyed the small cabin from the nearby cover of an old jalopy that had been left by some former employee. He sat slumped in the driver's seat, his gaze focused on the house, taking no notice of the cracked leather seat upon which he sat. The pungent smell of mold, damp and something more sinister also caused him no worries. After all, he'd been in much worse places in his life.
From his vantage point, he was able to see the door that the tall, lanky young man had entered hours ago. Frank had been trailing him since he and his brother had left the cabin that morning. He was thankful that he'd chosen to follow the younger man, rather than the older. After all, the young man had managed to lead Frank right to his next victim.
He found he couldn't stop the smile that twisted his lips as he thought about how well these young men were setting themselves up for a fall. After all, the knife with the older man's prints and now both men were in the house leaving their fingerprints all over a dead girl's home. Well, she technically wasn't dead yet, but really it was only a matter of hours.
At long last, Frank's vigilance paid off within a span of minutes, both men exited the house, one following the other. Frank watched as the older man took off at a run, toward the park. Though he was curious about what the two men were up to, he found it wasn't worth his attention. Really what did it matter, the girl would be dead and as Frank left town, he would be sure to tip off the police, making sure they set their sights on both men.
Frank settled back content to watch for a bit longer. He couldn't afford to have anyone interrupt him once he was inside the house.
