Chapter 2 – Dark Wood, Dark Water
He had a sweet ride, 'Samuel Cole'. Heaven had immediately recognized his car as a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala. A real beauty as far as cars were considered. Heaven knew her cars. In fact, they were a bit of a hobby of hers. She loved her own red 1969 Ford Mustang Shelby GT. As crazy as it sounded, her car was in fact the closest thing she had to a home. The car had belonged to her grandfather on her mother's side, and when he died a little after Heaven had turned 17, he had left her the car. She cherished it with her life.
She wrote down the number of his Kansas license plate, KAZ 2Y5, and then followed him as he drove through town and headed towards the lake, always keeping her distance, so he wouldn't notice being followed. She let him drive his car closer to the lake, and parked her own a bit further away, hidden among some trees. 'Samuel Cole' got out of his car and started walking a path through the forest. Heaven knew it lead down to the spot where Karen had drowned, the locals at the diner had given her directions.
She waited a few minutes before she got out of her own car. The only thing she brought with her was a digital system camera and with a telezoom lens. She had a friend who could help her identify 'Samuel Cole' if he was in any database. All she needed was a nice clear shot of his face. Heaven was planning on hitting two birds with one stone, follow the guy and get a shot of his face, while checking out the lake. After all, she was working a case. She decided to not walk along the path the guy had taken down to the lake, instead she made her way through the forest. With ease she jumped over stones and passed branches, attempting to make as little noise as possible, until she finally reached the border between the trees and the beach.
She peaked out from behind the trees. The guy was looking around, along the shoreline and out over the lake. He then bent down to feel the temperature of the water. He then put on of the fingers he'd dipped into the lake inside his mouth, tasting the water. After that he shrugged and stood back up again. Heaven noted that he had left his leather jacket in the car. He had probably realized it wasn't exactly leather-jacket weather. She watched as he pulled something out of his pocket and she immediately raised her camera to use the lens and view-finder to see what it was.
"I'll be damned", she thought as she saw that he was holding an EMF meter. It was apparently home made, out of an old busted Walkman as far as she could tell.
Heaven snorted and shook her head. This guy had to be a hunter. Why else would would he be at the lake with an EMF meter? She faintly heard the beeping noise from the meter. It didn't detect enough of an electromagnetic field for there to be a spirit of some sorts at the lake. If there had been a spirit, the EMF would've gone off the charts. Heaven thought for a moment. It could still be a spirit. The lack of an electromagnetic field could be because of the spirit not being currently active at that particular spot at the lake. Maybe it only turned up at certain times. After all, it had been a week since Karen drowned. Heaven knew she'd have to do some research, see if there was a pattern to connect the drownings. She also needed to check if someone had died a mysterious death near that particular spot.
The guy was apparently thinking about something. He looked bummed when there was no EMF to speak of. Heaven raised her camera again and took a step forward. By accident she stepped on a branch, and it made a small cracking noise. Heaven cringed and froze in her position.
"Please, don't let him have heard me, please, please…", she thought, before she opened her eyes. "Dammit, I shoulda been more careful…"
'Samuel Cole' had tensed and was looking around. Heaven pulled her head back for a bit, and lowered the camera, out of fear of there being a flare from the lens for him to notice. His gaze stopped and Heaven realized he was looking at the exact spot she was standing at. For a moment it seemed almost as if he was staring right into her eyes. He furrowed his brow in confusion and suspicion, and took a step in her general direction. She knew he couldn't see her yet, but he would be able to if he came closer. Heaven's heart was pounding, and she realized she was almost panicking. Would she have time to make a run for it? How fast was he? She wasn't ready to meet him yet, not until she had found out who he really was.
Luckily for her, a bird flew out from among the trees right next to her head. The guy instantly relaxed and walked back towards the water after a few seconds. Heaven drew a deep breath of relief and calmed herself down. She breathed for a moment before she raised the camera again. The guy was walking along the shoreline, and she managed to get a few good shots. She'd have to return to do a more thorough check of the lake later, but for now, she had gotten what she'd come for. She decided it was best for her to return to her car and stay in it until the guy returned into town. She'd have to follow him again, find out where he was staying.
Heaven couldn't believe her luck. She'd followed the guy back into town, and straight to the motel where she was staying herself. It was definitely better that way, made it easier for her to keep tabs on the guy until she figured out what to do. For safety reasons, she decided not to use the motel parking lot. Her car wasn't exactly inconspicuous, and seeing as he apparently knew his classic cars, he might take unwanted notice to her car. Instead, she parked by the street two blocks away and walked back to the motel. He was down the porch from her own room, in room 19, only six rooms away. Heaven decided to enter her own room in a slightly more unconventional way, through the bathroom window, which was big enough and not too difficult to open if one knew what one was doing. She made sure she didn't damage the salt line she'd placed on the window sill as soon as she had arrived at the motel earlier that morning.
Heaven took her sweater off, leaving her in only a black tank top. She went to the bathroom to wash up and put on some fresh deodorant. She didn't want to risk smelling of sweat, seeing as it was so damn hot in Georgia. After that, she ate lunch, a hamburger she'd picked up on the way to the motel along with some Fanta.
"I really gotta start a healthier diet…", she thought as she ate. "Ah well, maybe tomorrow."
Heaven knew that wasn't going to happen. Junk food was way too convenient for a hunter. You never really stayed in one place that long, and it was cheap. She was on a limited budget, seeing as she didn't actually get paid for what she did. The warm, fuzzy feeling she got every time she managed to save someone had to be payment enough.
She opened her laptop and connected to the wireless Internet service the motel provided against sa small sum of money. She then picked up her cellphone and dialed a number.
After only three signals, she recognized Craig Garcia's voice on the other end. "You never call me anymore. Don't you miss me at all?"
Heaven couldn't help but to chuckle. "Hey there, Garcia. 'Course I miss you."
Her relationship with Craig Garcia was completely platonic. He was half-Hispanic, thirty something years old and operating out of Irvine, California. She had a theory about him being asexual. He just didn't have sex. Not with women and not with men. It just didn't interest him. Instead, he had an IQ of 176, and no interest to do anything conventional with it, like getting a top education. He enjoyed solving puzzles, testing his own limits, writing software and hacking. They'd known each other for a few years, and whenever Heaven needed any help that had to do with computers, Garcia was the one she contacted. He was one hell of a hacker, and he was her source when it came to identifying people who were in any kind of database. She made a mental note to have Garcia teach her the basics of hacking one day, just in case she'd need it some time when Garcia wasn't there to help her out.
"No, you don't. Don't worry 'bout it, though."
Garcia didn't sound too upset over the fact that they both knew he was right. Heaven didn't miss anyone. She didn't allow herself to do that. "You're right, I don't", she chuckled. "But I still love you. Anyways, why I'm calling… I'm kinda working a case, a–"
"And you need my help." He didn't even let her finish. He knew her too well. She only called when she needed something. And if he ever needed help, he called her.
"Yeah, I need help I.D'ing this guy", she said. "I'm e-mailing you a few photos as we speak, along with a license plate number. Would you mind checking with the DMW?"
"Sure thing, Hev. Gimme ten minutes." He hung up without another word. Heaven smiled to herself and then went to Google. She had some research to do while she was waiting.
Once her phone finally rang, exactly ten minutes later, Heaven was frustrated. She hadn't found any noticeable pattern between the drownings, unless you counted the fact that all of them were women and children. But there was no recognizeable time pattern, nor any other connection between the victims. She hadn't found any strange deaths either.
"Yo, Hev", Garcia greeted her on the other end. "You owe me. I found your guy."
"Really?", Heaven replied, and raised her eyebrows. He'd been quicker than usual this time.
"You sound like you doubt my skills, woman."
"Don't call me woman. And no, I don't doubt your skills. You're pretty damn awesome. But I thought it'd take longer for you to find somethin', if there was anything to, you know, actually find."
Garcia laughed sarcastically. "Damn straight, I'm awesome. Anyways, I ran your guy's photo through the feds' facial recognition software. Name's Dean Winchester, at least in their database. Wanted for murder in St. Louis, presumably dead. I'll e-mail you a copy of the file."
"Well, he ain't dead, that's for sure. Wait… Did you say Winchester?" Where had she heard that name before? She knew she'd seen it somewhere… And not just in relation to the rifle.
"Sure did. And the license plate KAZ 2Y5…"
"Yeah?"
"Registered to a Mr. Hector Aframian."
"Son of a bitch. Another damn alias. He's using Samuel Cole over here. He's gotta be a hunter."
"Yeah, I dunno anythin' about that", Garcia said. He knew what Heaven did for a living, and he was cool with it. But he didn't get involved in the hunting. "You gotta figure that out yourself."
"Yeah, I will. Thanks, Garcia. You're the man."
"I know I am." Heaven could tell he was smirking. He liked compliments way too much.
"Don't let that head of yours grow too big, though. Might not fit through the door", Heaven joked.
"Yeah, yeah, promise. I'll talk to you later."
"Sure thing. Thanks again, Garcia. Bye."
"Bye. And Hev? Be careful."
"You know me. I always am."
Garcia hung up and for a moment Heaven sat with her cellphone in her hand, staring into space. She was contemplating what to do next. So, Dean Winchester, huh? It was killing her that she couldn't remember where she'd heard his name before. Then she realized something and got out of her chair so quickly that a whif of air blew some of her papers and newspaper clippings onto the floor, but she didn't care. Instead, she rushed over to one of her duffel bags and dug around for a moment, before she pulled out a worn journal with leather covers. She flipped through the pages for a bit, before she found what she was looking for.
"Son of a bitch", she thought.
Dean hadn't been able to shake the feeling of being followed ever since the diner earlier that day. He couldn't explain the feeling, but he knew there was something off. When he was checking out the lake, he thought he'd heard something from the forest. His mind had been calmed for a moment when he'd seen a bird fly out of the woods in the exact spot where he thought the sound had come from. But he had practically been raised a soldier, and his mind and soul were the ones of a hunter, so he paid extra much attention to his surroundings after he got back to his car from the lake.
When he'd been driving back to town, he had noticed a red 1969 Ford Mustang Shelby GT – if he wasn't mistaken, and he never was when it came to classic cars – driving behind him. It kept its distance at all times, and Dean probably wouldn't have paid much attention to it if it hadn't been so noticeable, a real beauty when it came to cars. He remembered seeing that very same car before, but couldn't for the world remember where, until he realized it had been parked outside the diner when he was there earlier that day. He was pretty sure he was being tailed. But by whom? Then the realization struck him, it had to be that Amelia chick the locals had told him about.
Dean pretended like nothing, because he was in fact smarter than most people thought. He liked to put on an act, but truth was, Dean Winchester wasn't all looks and charm. Sam was the brains of the operation, he the muscle, but he knew how to think for himself. He got back to the motel, went to his room, had lunch. He waited for the Mustang to show up in the motel parking lot. It never did. That was when Dean began second-guessing himself. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe it was just a mere coincidence. So, instead he shrugged and tried to do some research. He didn't know he was looking into the exact same things Heaven was looking into only six rooms down the porch. Research wasn't exactly his favourite part of the job, and most of the time he tried to get out of it by letting Sam, his geeky sidekick, handle the research while he did something more important, like eat or hang out with some random hot girl he'd picked up at a bar. But when he had to, Dean got the research done.
Dean didn't find any recognizeable patterns in the drownings either, nor any strange deaths. He almost pulled his hair in frustration. It being a sprit definitely would've been too easy. Now he had to do extra work. He needed to think up other plausible theories, maybe talk to someone who knew past drowning victims. He just knew he needed more to go on. For a moment he was tempted to call Sammy and ask for help, but he resisted. He wanted to show the kid that he, in fact, was able to crack a case without his brother's help.
Dean glanced at his watch and realized the sun had already set. It was nearing 6 pm and his stomach was growling. He sighed and took his jacket from the back of the chair, and left the room. He carefully locked the door, and checked that the salt line was intact before he walked over to his car. Before he got in he looked around the parking lot, trying to detect any suspicious movement or any people. When there was no sign of life, he relaxed and hopped inside the car. He felt safe behind the wheel of his baby. She was the only woman he'd ever trusted, besides his own mother and Cassie. But Cassie had never gotten his full trust.
Half an hour later, Dean returned to the motel. He had went to Suzy's and ordered a double bacon cheeseburger and some fries to go. When he turned the key in the lock, he got a strange feeling again, like something was off. He furrowed his brow for a moment and got inside. He took two steps before he thought he heard something. He froze in his spot, and was completely quiet. He even held his breath. For a moment he thought he'd been wrong, again, until he heard a faint sound of footsteps. They came from inside his bathroom.
He pulled his gun out of the waistline of his pants, and carefully he walked towards the bathroom, as he normally would walk, but he had the gun raised in front of him. He heard someone breathing in there, he was absolutely sure now.
He reached the bathroom door and reached his available hand out. The floorboards creaked underneath his feet and he silently cursed. Whoever or whatever was in there would now know he was coming. He pushed the door open in one swift movement. Everything happened so fast. A figure bolted from behind the door, towards the open bathroom window. The shape was fast, but Dean was faster. He managed to get hold of an arm, and pushed the person against the cool bathroom tiles.
In a fumbling effort, he tried to find a light switch, while the person he kept pinned against the wall tried to struggle out of his grip.
"Easy there, tiger", he commented and used a bit of force to keep the figure in place. The other person was petite, and Dean was frustrated he couldn't see properly in the dark. He could hear the other person's quick pants and pounding heart.
Then, finally, he found the switch and the bathroom bathed in light. He found himself staring into a woman's eyes, a pair of the most intriguing and beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, indigo blue and so incredibly deep. A quick scan of her body told him that she was hot, and about his own age. So, this was Amelia. He recalled the locals mentioning deep, indigo blue eyes.
"Let go of me", she said resolutely.
"Fat chance, miss", he said. "Not until you tell me who the hell you are and what you're doin' in my bathroom."
Before he knew what happened, a cocky grin rose to her lips. After that, he felt his feet lose contact with the floor as she tripped him. Within seconds he was lying flat on his back on the bathroom floor. "Jesus Christ", he thought. "No chick's ever kicked my ass before. How embarrassing."
The woman smirked and cocked an eyebrow. "Try that again, punk."
"Sounds like a challenge", Dean retorted with a smirk of his own as he kicked her feet.
"Wow!", she yelped in surprise as she fell flat on her stomach with a loud thud.
She cringed and moaned in pain, and Dean knew the fall had hurt. Served her right for tripping him. Dean quickly used whatever leverage he could muster up with help from the bathroom floor to flip them both over. She was now pinned flat on her back between him and the bathroom floor. Dean grabbed her wrists, keeping her pinned against the floor. It would've been a pretty sexy situation if the circumstances had been different, Dean thought.
"So, you wanna tell me who you are now?", Dean asked.
"Why the heck would I tell you who I am?", she retorted, while her eyes frantically looked around, trying to find an escape. Dean knew exactly what she was thinking.
"Well, if you introduce yourself, I'll introduce myself", he said, allowing a playful grin to rise to his lips.
"Oh, c'mon", she smiled. "You have to make me a better offer, Dean Winchester."
Dean was confused and surprised. How the hell did she know who he was? "How'd you– But why– Huh?"
"Not so funny now, is it?", she asked, clearly amused.
Ooh, he so wanted to wipe that cocky grin off her face. "Let's try this again: Who. Are. You?", he said, deciding to ignore her knowledge of his identity. It was better not to confirm anything. "Simple question."
"Relax, Winchester. We're colleagues. My Dad knew your Dad."
"Dad? But how– What d'you mean, 'knew'? What's your name?" He was unable to hide his confusion, and it frustrated him to hell. He didn't like not being in control of the situation.
"I'm Heaven. Heaven Johansen. Nice to meet you."