Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable in the following story. The characters that you don't recognize are figments of my imagination and still I claim no ownership. Supernatural belongs to the WB, the CW and all. I haven't made a profit on this story so please don't sue. I don't own anything anyway so there's nothing to gain from it.
Chapter 5
Three days later Matt sat in a corner of a dark smoky bar. There was a notebook open in front of him and an empty beer bottle beside it. He was making notes in his notebook and paused as a woman stopped by his booth.
"Another?" the waitress asked.
"Yeah thanks sweetheart," he said just loud enough over the honky tonk music that blasted from the speakers.
Matt hated this bar but knew it was the favourite hang out of his contact. A contact that owed him big time. The sooner his contact appeared so he could get his information and go the better.
Matt stilled ever so slightly as movement in the shadows caught his attention and he closed his notebook.
"Matt," a voice said.
"Drake," Matt said smoothly easily recognizing the voice even if the person was still in the shadows.
"What do you want old man," Drake said warily.
"I'm here to collect. I need information I left you a message about. Ignoring me doesn't make me go away. It makes me stalk you and hunt you down until I get what I want," Matt said.
Drake snorted. "Last time you tried to collect you shot me with a silver bullet. Why should I help you."
"You owe me. Or did you forget," Matt said his tone deadly serious. "Besides I told you not to touch my toys or my granddaughter."
"I told you I didn't know she was your granddaughter. Besides it was one little kiss," he said.
"Right," Matt said easily.
Drake looked down from where he stood in the shadows. Silently he gazed down at the man who had saved his life more than once. He sighed heavily and slid down into the booth across from the demon hunter.
"If I tell you this we're even. I don't ever want to hear from you again," Drake said.
"You're filthy shape shifting skin touched my granddaughter," Matt growled. "We will never be even."
Drake broke eye contact and looked back towards where his friends were standing.
Matt looked at the shifters face. He wasn't a true shape shifter. He was spawned from a shifting woman and a normal human man. Some characteristics on the man never changed. If he was hurt and a scar was left, the scar would always remain. It looked like he'd lost a battle recently with either a dull knife or a broken bottle. A large pink scar ran down the length of his face from his temple to the bottom of his jaw.
"There's a man that heals people. A preacher man. Faith healer some say. People walk in sick and out of the crowd he picks one person to heal," Drake said.
Matt waited for more but Drake didn't continue. "I've been sitting here for over three hours for that?"
"That's it. That's all I know," Drake said and looked away.
Lightening fast Matt's fist reached across the table and grabbed Drake by the throat. He leaned back and half pulled Drake out of his seat choking slightly in his hold. "Tell me the rest. Now," Matt ordered.
"The preacher was healed himself. But no one knows how. I swear!" Drake said half coughing half choking.
"Where," Matt demanded.
"I can't breathe," Drake gasped.
Matt loosened his hold slightly. "Where," he growled and he could feel the man tremble beneath him.
"Nebraska. Ford City, Nebraska," Drake wheezed out.
Matt let go of Drake and the shifter fell back into the seat pulling his shirt away from his neck and gulping down smoky air. Matt slowly got up, adjusted his shirt and walked away. He winked at the waitress as she came towards him with his beer.
"Won't be needing that now sweetheart," he said putting a twenty dollar bill on her tray and left the bar. Taking a deep breath of clean air he relished the warm sun on his skin as he walked through the parking lot. Getting into his car he pulled out the road atlas that he always kept handy. He was about to leave for Nebraska.
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Jim quietly put the portable phone down on his large wooden desk. In front of him on the blotter was a list of names. With a frown he put a line through one of the last names on the list. He looked at the list for a moment and circled the last name on the list. John Winchester. He'd left the man four messages and he hadn't heard back from him. The silence could only mean that John was so deep in a case that he wouldn't call back at all. Slowly he sat back into the chair, rested his arms on the chair and steepled his fingers. Out of contacts he tried to think of another way to help Joshua or think of a contact he'd missed but came up empty.
With a resigned sigh he picked up the phone again and dialled a number.
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Joshua handed the nurse a file from a large stack in his arms.
"Keep up the saline solution on the retriever. Mrs. Rose's cat will need another injection in an hour. Make sure the sheltie gets a bit of a run outside before Daniel picks him up," Joshua said.
"Yes Doc I know the drill. Now go home before Anna comes down here to get you," Sasha said as she took all of the files away from him. "See I've got them all now. Get your sorry butt home mister before you fall asleep behind the wheel."
Joshua sighed. The woman was almost as maddening as Miss Mosley. "All right. All right. I'm going. You'll call right?"
"Now you know me better than that Doc. Of course I'll call you if anything happens with the horse," Sasha said.
"Thanks Sasha. See you tomorrow," Joshua said as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
"Night Doc," Sasha said than disappeared into the back room to let out the sheltie.
Joshua left the clinic and got into his truck. He'd just pulled onto the road when his cell phone rang.
"I'm on my way honey," Joshua said.
"Well that's nice dear. But it's a long haul between my church and your clinic," Jim said with a chuckle.
"Oh hey Jim," Joshua said feeling himself blush slightly. "Any luck?"
"No. Josh I'm sorry. None of my contacts know anything about this healer," Jim said.
"That's ok. Thanks for trying," Joshua said.
"There is one thing," Jim said almost hesitantly.
"What's that?" Joshua said.
"It's John. He hasn't called me back. So he might know something," Jim said.
"I don't think he'll call. I spoke to Dean a while back and the kids don't know where their father is," Josh said.
"Well John's tough. Whatever he's into he'll pull through," Jim said. "Look Joshua. I wish I could do more."
"Thanks Jim. I appreciate you trying," Joshua said then ended the call.
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Matt drove through the night and part of the morning before finally coming to the small town in Nebraska. He pulled off the secondary highway and into a motel parking lot. He turned off the engine and sat there for a moment. Four towns behind him and one more to go. Three weeks of driving, eating fast food, sleeping in motels that had seen better days and ignoring Serena's phone calls.
Serena was gong to be livid but he couldn't take the distraction at the moment. Her research had helped him but he'd found nothing. If he called he was afraid he'd lose his focus on this job and start worrying about leaving her alone. He always worried about her which could be distracting at any time. But a distraction at this point that could easily get him hurt or worse. His focus was already beginning to wane with this hunt because it really wasn't a hunt. It was more of a fact finding mission. After three weeks of finding nothing staying focused was becoming difficult.
So this was his last stop. Ford City, Nebraska. His research and his contacts had sent him to this area. Last night before getting back on the road he'd found a newspaper article that told of a preacher doing healing not far from this motel. Matt sighted. He hated when Patric was right. Slowly he got out of the car and checked himself in for a couple of days.
He got his bags out of the trunk and went into his motel room. The clothes bag was dropped unceremoniously onto the floor. The weapons bag was placed gently on the table with a quiet thunk. Wearily he sat down at the table and stared at the closed bag for a moment before standing up. He left his room and headed down the street to a bar. The service wasn't until tomorrow afternoon. There was time to hustle some money and maybe even a little fun.
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Next chapter tomorrow.