Bored out of her skull, Zoë flips the page of her newspaper for the third time, pretending to read it. She found a good spot on W. Court Street, on the terrace of a Domino's Pizza Restaurant. Traffic drives by constantly, but from her table she has a clear view of the home of Taylor Dawlson, Laura's former teacher. It's 14:30 and Zoë has been guarding the Dawlson residence for over an hour now, but nothing happened yet. She hasn't had a call from the boys yet either, so she presumes everything is quiet at the Shire place and Dean is probably still talking to the doc. Taylor Dawlson is home, busy working around the house, keeping her daughter busy. Her husband Jeff is working the lawn at the moment. On the table in front of her, next to the slice of pepperoni pizza, Zoë installed her Macbook, which shows some information about the Dawlson family, just so that she knows what she's dealing with. She is a teacher at the Woodrow Wilson Elementary School, he's into sportswear and merchandizing. They've been married for seven years now and have a three year old daughter named Lesley. No criminal records on the parents, nothing out of the ordinary. Just a happy family, living in a nice neighborhood, right next to a church. One thing though, the mother happened to be in one of her flashbacks.
She lets out a sigh of boredom and takes another bite of her delicious pizza. Then she feels her phone vibrating in her pocket. Quickly she takes out her Nokia and checks the screen; it's Sam.
"What's up?", she answers with a yawn.
"That exiting, huh?", Sam notices her bored voice.
Sam is comfortable in the drivers seat of the Chevrolet Impala, which he parked across the street of the Shire residence, which is located on Reynolds Park Road. He has his window rolled down and rests his elbow on the door as he holds his phone to his ear. Unlike Zoë's lookout, the streets are almost completely empty in this neighborhood just outside the downtown area of Paragould. A beautiful house by the lake seems like the fairytale to live in, but in fact this place was the setting for violence and abuse for many years. But right now, just as at Zo's place to watch, there is absolutely nothing going on.
"It's like watching a documentary on Discovery Channel about snails", she comments, after which she bites off a piece of pizza.
"Are you eating again?", Sam asks when he hears her chewing her food.
"Dude, you sound like my Mom's dietician", Zoë responds with her mouth full.
Sam chuckles and realizes the stern tone he just talked to her with.

"Taco Bell?"
"No, I like a bit of variation in my daily cousine", she says, putting up a chique voice. "I'm having Italian right now".
Sam raises his eyebrow and waits for a follow up, but can't help to comment on that.
"Let me guess, pizza?", he grins.
"Domino's to be precise", Zoë laughs.
"How do you do that?", Sam asks still chuckling.
"Do what?"
"Eat so much, without… well, you know. Most girls always bitch about their weight and stuff", he says carefully, not wanting to insult her.
"I can tell you had a long time girlfriend. Clothing and weight, the forbidden subjects", Zoë can't help but to grin.
"It's extraordinary", Sam states.
"What? The weirdness of women or the fact that I eat so much?", she jokes.
Sam laughs out loud. "Seriously, how can you consume so much food and still look, you know, like you do?"
"I kick ass", she answers smartly.
That response might came out rapid, for a brief moment there Zoë analyzed that sentence. Was that a compliment or a flirt? She's not sure what to think, but presumes Sam didn't meant anything by it, considering he's still dealing with Jess. And come on, she has given him a pretty hard time, she's everything but charming.
"How's it going over there?", Zoë changes the subject before a awkward silence follows.
Sam glances through his windshield at the two individuals up at the house.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Mrs. Shire seems to deal with her husband's death by cleaning up the entire house and her son is out by the lake, just staring out over the water", Sam describes.
"The guy was a son of a bitch, but he was still their family", Zoë realizes.
Then a steady beep sounds in her ear; she has different line coming in.
"Be right back, getting another call", she notifies Sam and pushes the green button on her phone.
"Sullivan", she says.
"Doc isn't talking".
Dean walks down the stairs of the Arkansas Methodist Medical Center. He unbuttons his jacket and loosens his tie, then he takes out his sunglasses and puts them on.
"What do you mean, he isn't talking?", Zoë wants to know.
"He got all nervous when I started asking questions. There's no way I can get a word out of his mouth, but he knows somethin' alright", Dean explains.
"Did you try everything?", she checks with a sigh.
"I didn't tell him about the truth if that's what you mean", he admits.
Zoë realizes it's a good thing he didn't. If Dean starts talking about killer ghosts and the guy freaks out, they might have a serious problem, considering that they identified to him as FBI. If the doctor goes running off to authorities, their attempt to solve this case will become difficult if not impossible when they have the police on their tail.
"You have the death report, right?", she asks with a tone.
"Yep", Dean ensures as he takes out the report from his inside pocket. "Stole it from his file case. Piece of cake".
"Anything interesting in there?", she questions, not bothering to compliment him for his deed.
"Not really", Dean presses his phone between his ear and shoulder and leafs through the pages which contain a lot of medical talk that he doesn't understand one bit.
"It says that Laura Shire was brought in by her father round 11 PM, yada yada yada. Cause of death…", Dean pauses as he reads the line again and halts.
"Didn't you say that both dear daddy and Van Dyke broke their neck?", he recalls, looking up from the file.
"Yeah".

"Laura broke hers too. Judigtsteyn claimed she fell down the stairs", Dean adds up.
"Yeah right", Zoë sighs deeply.
"One other thing, or actually two", he points out as continues his way down the street. "Shire wasn't just a colleague, he was his chief. Guess who signed Laura's death report".
He leaves the final words open for Zoë to fill in.
"Shire himself?", she asks stunned.
"The one and only", he confirms.
"But he's a family member of the patient, he doesn't have the authorities in that case!", Zo cries out in disbelief.
"That's why he got Judigtsteyn to do it. All they needed was his signature as the supervisor", Dean realizes.
"Which makes the report valid", she gets the point.
"So what now?", Dean questions, now that his job is done.
"Judigtsteyn played a part in the big cover up, so he might be her next candidate", Zoë ponders, glancing at the Dawlson residence, where it's still quiet.
"There is no way you can keep an eye on him in that hospital, is there?", she questions.
"We don't need to. Laura only attacks when the victim if out of sight of others, right?", Dean mentions.
Zoë thinks back to the first two murders. She didn't notice it before, but he's right. There were people in the house when Shire and Van Dyke were killed, but never in the same room.
"Now that you mention it. As long as the doc stays among people, he'll be safe. When does he get off?", she wants to know.
"Already checked that, not until 6 PM", he informs.
"Good, so we don't have to worry about him till 6", she sighs, trying to think of a plan.
"Everything cool over there?", Dean asks.
"I'm wasting my time, I'm not sure if Laura will strike her anyhow", Zoë comments on the case.
"And Sam?", Dean wonders, as he walks into the parking lot of the Mc Donald's which is just blocks away from the hospital.

"Do I look like a mailman to you? Why don't you ask him yourself?", she huffs annoyed.
"Never mind", he sighs, not feeling like arguing her and explaining what is going on.
He enters the Mc Donald's and takes a look at the menu. Tough choice, Big Mac or McBacon?
"You had a fight or somethin'?", Zoë asks curious.
"Sort of", Dean confirms, not really planning to open up to her.
"Brotherly love. What did you fight about?", she asks again.
"That's none of your business", Dean is tired of her interrogation and snipes. "Damn, you're not curious, are ya?"
"No, I'm not curious, I just want to know everything", she responds smartly. "Come on, spill it".
Dean sighs, he doesn't feel like telling her about it, but he figures that if she knows, she might shut up about it.
"It was about Dad, we have different ideas about how to find him", Dean explains shortly.
Surprisingly, there's no smart answer that follows up his words. Not a word. Zoë swallows back a mean comment and decides not to respond for their own good. They are finally having a conversation without yelling at each other and although she doesn't care if she's being barked at, she likes to keep it peaceful this time. Like it or not, she needs their help on this case.
"Still there?", Dean asks to break the deadly silence.
"Yeah, sorry. Got a bit distracted", Zoë makes up.
"Want a burger?", he jokes, as if he could teleport it to her place.
She laughs, guessing where he is.
"Where are you, Mc Donald's or something?", she grins.
"What do you think?", he says to her and turns to the guy behind the counter. "One McBacon, please".
"Just one?", Zoë comments.

"Absolutely right, make that two", the last sentence was directed to the guy behind the counter.
He pays for his second lunch of the day and tells the Mc Donald's employee to keep the change.
"Did you eat?", Dean asks Zoë as he walks out to the terrace and settles down in the sun.
"Yeah, pizza", she mentions shortly.
Then the subject reminds her of Sam, he's still waiting for her to return to their conversation.
"Which reminds me, I still have Sam on hold. If you wanna crash some place, feel free to break into my motel room", she offers with a smile.
"Alrighty, which number?", he likes to know before he stumbles into a stranger's apartment.
"17, don't break anything".
With those words she disconnects her call with Dean and returns to Sam.
"I'm back", she lets him know.
But there's not a sound on the other line. He didn't hang up on her, she can still here noises she doesn't recognize.
"Sam? You there?", she asks stern.
Then she hears Sam's voice, but it's not comforting. A painful moan sounds from the other side of the line.
"Sam, answer me! What's going on?", Zoë senses something is wrong.
"I'm here", Sam groans.
He has the palm of his hand pressed against his forehead as he squints. He doesn't know what just happened to him, but it hurts like hell. He closes his eyes, but still sees images he can't place. Dreams are one thing, but he never experienced this before.
"What's happening?"

He hears Zoë's voice and presses his Blackberry against his ear.
"I think I just had a vision", he realizes, as the headache fades away.
"It started", she states surprised. "What did you see?"
Sam looks up. By the sound of her words, she experienced this too.
"You had one of those during the day?", he asks stunned.
"That's not important right now, Sam. What did you see?", she repeats her question.
Sam thinks back as the images appear in her head again.
"I saw a house, white woodwork", he remembers, closing his eyes.
"A woman inside it terrified, screaming, and I heard a voice "You didn't stop it"", he quotes.
Zoë eyes look up from her screen and stare at the house across the street. The Dawlson home has white woodwork. Her eyes widen as she realizes what might be going on.
"It's Laura. What else did you see, Sam!", she pressures as she gets up hastily.
"A guy mowing the lawn and… a church, right next to the house", he recalls, concentrating on special marks.
Zoë's chair falls down on the ground and she runs down the terrace, leaving her Macbook behind on the table. As fast as she can she crosses the street and is barely missed by a car, but she doesn't care. Her eyes are fixated on the front door and she knows; Laura is here.
"Get over here, NOW!", she orders Sam and while running she puts away her phone.
Adrenaline rushes through her body as her hand grabs the doorknob, but the door seems to be jammed. She pulls as hard as she can, but there's no movement what so ever.
"Hey! What do you think you are doing?", Jeff Dalwson cries out, who left his lawnmower on the grass and now approaches her with large steps.
"Your wife's in danger! We need to get inside the house", she tells the man straight forward.
The facial expression of the tall dark man changes from mad to worried and stares inside the house.

"Who are you?", he wants to know.
"Jeff, there's no time to lose! I'll explain later!", Zoë cries out, trying to maintain calm.
She puts her shoulder into in and tries to lift the door out of his hinge, but it won't budge. Frustrated she looks around for another way in. In the mean time Jeff hastens around the house, but comes back to the front panicking.
"I can't get the back door to open!", he shouts.
"Damn it!", she curses, now that she knows what's going on.
Laura is doing this, she's shutting them out so that she can work her victim without being interrupted. It's amazing how fast this little ten year old developed into the monster she is right now. This isn't a ghost problem anymore, this is a hesitation, Zoë draws her gun from behind her waistband and aims for the kitchen window. She pulls the trigger, but instead of breaking the glass, the bullet flings back as if it just hit bullet proof glass.
"Taylor!", Jeff calls his wife's name desperately.
But they don't hear a sound, not even a horrific scream, absolutely nothing. Zoë, not willing to give up, hits the door with her shoulder again till she feels soar to the bone.
"Son of a bitch! Let us in!", she yells furious.
In the meantime Jeff got his hands on a shovel and hits the windows, but concrete would damage more than the glass does at this point. While he keeps screaming for his wife and daughter's name, Zoë hears the roar of the Impala racing around the corner. With screeching tires Sam stops the car and jumps out, rushing for the trunk. Without pausing Zoë speaks to him.
"You better have a damn bright idea, Sam!", she shouts raged.
With two loaded shotguns in his hands he runs up the lawn, but stops in his tracks when he glances at the window.
"Uh… Zoë?", he calls for her perplexed.
She looks over her shoulder and sees the staggered expression on his face. Slowly she backs out and glances up. In front of the window stands a young girl, which Zoë recognizes as Laura. This time she isn't the sad little innocent kid, she looks terrifying. Here eyes seem to have sunk in deep into there sockets, blood and bruises cover her body. Her head is tilted to the right in a strange unnatural way. Laura just stares down at them, then in a flick of a switch, she disappears. The next moment they hear the sound of shattered glass. Their attention is drawn to the kitchen window; Jeff managed to break it. Hastily Zoë rushes for the door, knowing it's off lock now and enters the house. Sam is on her tail and hands her the shotgun in the hallway, just in case.

"This isn't gonna help", she looks at the gun for a moment.
"Loaded with rock salt", Sam explains.
Her gaze glides over the gun again, this time an appreciating one. She heard of many ways to fight of ghosts, but this is a new one. A typical Winchester invention.
"Smart", she comments. "You get the girl".
They split up and when Sam glances into the living room, he sees Jeff's and Taylor's daughter. She doesn't seem to realize what is going on, apparently she didn't hear a thing. She's playing with her dolls, as her mother told her to. As Sam concentrates on Lesley, Zoë rushes to the second floor. Quickly she climbs the stairs, her gun ready to fire. Alert she scans the corridor; all clear. Knowing Laura might still be inside, she takes a deep breath and busts the door. What she sees inside, even makes her stomach turn. What she feared the most has happened, Laura made her teacher die a even more horrible death than her own. Taylor has collapsed against the wall, her eyes stare at the ground, as if she was unpleasantly surprised by her attacker. But she doesn't move, she doesn't flinch; she's as dead as she can be. Her arm and her neck seem to be broken, she also suffered bad head injury. Blood prints of her head and hands are smeared over the pink wall paper of her daughter's bedroom. The red substance stained the carpet, the teddy bears on Lesley's bed, the covers, even the ceiling.
"God damn it, Laura", Zoë whispers and sighs deeply.
Footsteps behind her on the stairs. She looks back and sees Jeff, running up the stairs.
"You don't wanna see this", she warns, trying to keep him from the doorway.
But as she would have done, he walks in anyway. As soon as his eye catches the sight of his wife in the state that she is, he freezes. Unable to say anything, he just looks down on at her dead body as tears well up in his eyes. Zoë watches him with compassion, but she can't get a word out of her mouth. After she swallows apprehensively she looks away.
"Taylor…", Jeff whispers, as tears run down his face.
In a blink of an eye his life changed forever and it will never be the same again. The woman he loves dearly, the mother of his child, was just ripped from life, murdered, and there is nothing he can do to change that. Zoë knows the feeling, she knows it way too well. He falls down on his knees in her blood, but he doesn't hit the floor, he hits rock bottom.