Firefly – Chapter 15
By Suz Mc
Ariel Anderson didn't strike Sam as an occultist at all. To someone with a more straight-edged definition of odd, maybe she seemed off, but not the least bit frightening in an evil way. Granted, if she was pissed off, she could scare the pants off anyone, but Lindsey's intimations were way off base.
"Coffee?" she asked, offering Sam a cup. "I swear it's not poisoned," she said, waggling an eyebrow behind her oversized glasses.
"Thanks," he answered, taking the cup and a seat beside her on an out of the way sofa.
Settling herself, Ariel took a long drink and said, "Winchester, huh? Are you Emily's father?"
"No, that would be my older brother, Dean."
"And is Emily with him? Is she okay?"
"Yeah, she's with him and they're getting to know each other," Sam answered, trying to be careful not to give away too much information. "He didn't know about Emily until after the fire or he would have been in her life." Sam felt a strong urge to defend Dean's honor. "He's a good guy. He'll take good care of Emily."
"Good," she said, softly. "I never pressed Calley about Emily's father. She just said it was complicated and maybe one day she'd bring him into Emily's life. After all she'd been through, I just didn't want to push."
That was the opening Sam was waiting for and he took it. "Ms. Anderson."
"Ariel, please," she responded, smiling. "Ms. Anderson sounds like an old lady, not a hip art dealer."
"Okay, Ariel, I need to put the pieces of Calley's life together so I can figure out what happened to her. Can you help me?"
"Well, I can tell you this much," Ariel answered, setting her cup down on a table, "something evil has chased that girl for years and it caught her."
"Evil, like how?"
"Boy, when you spend ten years immersed in good and evil like I did when I was a penguin, you sorta get the inside track. There's lots of good in this world and the next, but evil is as real as you and I," she said as she looked over her glasses at him. "But I get the feeling you know that already, don't you, Sam?"
"You're pretty perceptive."
"That's what makes me good at my job," she said, waving a hand toward the work displayed around them. "I can see who's got the goods, who speaks the truth and who's just fakin' it."
"Calley had the goods, so to speak?" Sam settled back in his seat. One trick to getting information was just to shut up and let people talk. Dad was a master at that. He always said that people wanted to tell their story, you just needed get out of the way and let them.
Ariel relaxed beside him. "When Calley showed up in Austin, she was so green, so innocent. She was going to school, selling paintings on the street, singing in a couple of local bands, just doing the things kids do to get by. I saw one of her paintings a friend of mine bought and it was passion on canvas." Ariel looked away, seemingly reliving that moment when she discovered Calley's work. "It was life and light and you could feel the joy and pain of whatever subject she painted. The second the art community found Calley, her career exploded."
"Overnight success, huh?" Sam asked.
"Hell, over-hour success. She couldn't paint hard enough or fast enough and it was a wonderful time for her," Ariel said, smiling at the memory. "It was the first time I think this child had felt worthy in her life. Those rich bastards who raised her sure didn't make her feel that way."
"So things were going well for Calley here?"
"Totally. She was successful and had friends and a home. It was certainly working out great for me," she said, draining the last drink from her cup. "Lots of truly creative people are nuts, pain in the ass primadonnas if they get any acclaim. Not Calley. She was just a down to earth, honestly nice kid. Period. She worked hard. Had plans and dreams. Helped you out if you needed it." The woman paused and pulled off her glasses to rub her eyes. "I miss her every day. She was a good, good friend."
Sam wanted to remember every word Ariel was telling him about Calley. Emily was going to have to rely on stories from other people to know her mother and Sam understood how precious those borrowed memories would be to her. He knew his own mother only from the perspective of others and he wanted to make sure to get that right for her when the day came for him to retell this tale to his niece.
"You said something evil was chasing Calley. When did that start?"
Most people took deep breaths before they jumped into ugly stories with both feet. Ariel did the same. "Calley's career, her life, was just about as happy as can be until August of 2007. Then she dropped off the face of the earth and was missing until she showed up in a hospital outside of Beaumont two months later in October. I drove down there with a couple of her friends and she was in bad shape. Calley had been beaten over and over. The doctors said she'd been sexually abused and she was near dead from dehydration when she was found and brought into the ER."
"Did she say what had happened?" Sam already knew what had happened. He'd heard Dean's story. He'd seen the paintings. Multiply that times ten and he had a fairly good picture of Calley's personal Hell.
"No. She wouldn't talk to the police or to us about where she'd been or who had hurt her," Ariel answered, then paused for a moment. "I asked years later if Emily's father was one of the men who had hurt her but she said no, that he wasn't a bad man and what happened wasn't his fault. Was she right?"
"He's the best man I know and if he'd known she was in trouble, he would have helped her," Sam said, hoping she'd believe him. "Did she ever tell you anything?"
"When she was stronger, I brought her home and she locked herself up in her studio for weeks. Wouldn't talk to anyone or let anyone see what she was painting. Then she found out she was pregnant and it snapped her out of it. Her entire focus turned outward again. One day, she just showed up with these stacks of canvases, all wrapped in paper, and told me to store them and swear no one would ever see them until she said to release them."
"I've seen them," Sam said, then quickly added, "on the website. At least, I think I've seen the ones you're talking about. The Smoke Series?"
"Yeah," Ariel whispered, sadly. "Anyway, after she found out she was pregnant, that's when she came to me asking about research material." For the first time, Ariel seemed hesitant, as if unsure whether she should venture into the next part of her story.
"Ariel, you can trust me. There's pretty much nothing you could say that would shock me and I'm not going to think you're crazy," Sam said, looking her straight in the eye so she'd see he was sincere.
"Calley wanted research material on demons and how to repel them." The woman stared at Sam, assessing his reaction. "That's the crazy stuff that put the cops off when I told them."
"Crazy is relative, Ariel. That doesn't even register on my crazy scale."
"At first, I thought she was just trying to find an answer for whatever despicable things had been done to her but I soon realized she was serious and gave her what I could find," she said. Before she continued, Ariel rose from the couch and walked to the front door. She quickly turned the lock and flipped a small metal sign to 'closed.'
When she returned, she said, "There, that's better. Where was I?"
"Why did Calley come to you for research on demons?"
"Suppose she figured I might have some secret mojo from the church."
"Do you?"
"Let's just say, I spoke to a few friends and gave Calley a couple of books. She found a symbol that was supposed to be foolproof if you could get it right and she worked until she could do it."
"The symbol on the paintings?"
"Yes," Ariel answered. "She put it on everything. Her house. Her paintings. Even had a local artist who works in silver make a charm for Emily to wear. Drove that guy crazy making and remaking it until it was perfect. He threatened to send her to a shrink because she dropped her blood into every attempt."
"She doesn't have it now," Sam said, imagining the mighty will it took for a mother to stand over melted silver and bleed into it to protect her child.
The shock on Ariel's face was tangible. "You have to be wrong. It's on a silver chain around her neck with a crystal cross. Calley never let her take it off. She even polished it around her neck."
"I've seen the necklace but there's no protective charm attached," Sam said, watching Ariel's expression become more troubled.
Ariel was clearly disturbed. "Calley put so much of herself into protecting that little girl. It just hurts me that Emily doesn't have that anymore." Shaking off her despair, the woman continued. "After Emily was born, Calley was whole again. She put whatever happened behind her and started over with her baby. That little girl was her whole life and she was fine until about six weeks ago. "
"What happened six weeks ago?"
"This old friend of Calley's showed up here at the gallery looking for her," Ariel said, pausing to recall the name, "Lindsey Deaton."
Lindsey Deaton's story began to deflate in Sam's mind, switching her from informant to suspect. "Wait, Ariel. You're sure she came looking for Calley, not the other way around?"
"Definitely," Ariel responded, looking over to a customer at the door who had just walked away. "She said she'd just moved here and was an old friend from high school. Wanted Calley's number, but I didn't give it to her. Artists can attract some weird groupies and I wanted to make sure she was legit. I gave Calley the girl's number and she seemed anxious to reconnect with her. Said they'd been in some accident in high school and Lindsey'd had a hard time coping."
"Did Calley talk to you about their meeting?"
"She didn't talk about seeing Lindsey, but Calley's whole demeanor changed the next day, Sam," she said, tensing up as the story got closer to the end. "The panic, the fear from '07 was back and she was desperate to find Emily's father. She told me to get those paintings she'd packed away and put them on the website. When I opened them, I knew."
"Knew what?"
"I knew what had happened to her and all that demon talk was real. Those paintings weren't strictly art. They were that girl's only way to tell what had happened to her and she wanted them out there so someone could see them."
Ariel got to her feet, walking over to the only Calley Rail piece still part of her collection. It was marked "private collection – not for sale." It was a self-portrait of Calley holding an infant Emily in her arms while their lives were still whole.
"Two weeks after that Lindsey Deaton showed up, Calley was dead and Emily was gone. I couldn't help either of them and that's something I'll always be sorry for," Ariel said to the painting, as if asking for their forgiveness. "Somehow, whatever got to Calley all those years ago came back and my gut tells me it was after Emily. Calley would have died to protect her and I think she did."
Ariel folded her arms in front of her and silently took in the details of the painting then she eased one hand up to wipe her eyes underneath her glasses. "I know this much, you find out who took that charm from Emily and I bet you'll find out who got Calley killed." After her eyes were dry, she turned to Sam and said, "You believe all this, Sam Winchester?"
"Yes, I do." Sam got up from his seat and walked over to look at the painting. "The protective symbol on Calley's door was damaged. Somebody let it in."
"Can you and your brother do something about it?"
"We're going to try," Sam said, hoping that was even possible. Sam pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to Ariel. "If you think of anything else, please call me."
Ariel took the card, flipping it around in her fingers. "Tell Emily I miss her and tell your brother that there are people in Austin who love that little girl and we're here for her if she ever needs anything." She looked back at the painting and said, "When she grows up, when she's ready for this painting, it's here waiting for her."
"I will," Sam said, and took his leave from the gallery.
Once out on the sidewalk, he snatched out his phone and dialed his brother's number. He wasn't sure exactly what to tell Dean. Lindsey Deaton had an enormous arrow pointing right at her now that he knew she had lied. His next visit with Miss Drama Teacher was going to be less good cop and more pissed off Sam.
"Hey, what's going on?" Sam said, on his way to the tiny car he dreaded getting back inside.
"Nothing much. What about you?"
"I need you to do something for me?"
Sam expected a smartass comeback that he'd have to wade through before getting to business but it didn't come forth. Dean's voice was tense and he kept to the subject. "What?"
"Look on that necklace Emily wears and see if there's an extra loop on it."
"Hang on." Sam could hear Dean gently talking to Emily. When he came back to the phone, he said, "Yeah. Looks like there was another charm on it but it's gone."
"Calley's art dealer said Emily wore a silver version of the protective symbol," Sam said, folding down into the seat of the Honda.
Sam heard Dean tell Emily to go into the other room and then Dean said, "You think somebody took it?"
"I do."
"Who?"
"Lindsey Deaton."
"You think she scrapped the mark off Calley's door and let Amora into the house?"
"Money's on yes"
"I want that bitch dead."
"Can I search her house first and be sure she did it before we kill her?" Sam knew he should have kept his mouth shut until he had some more proof.
"Fine." His voice was rough and angry over the line. "Find out what she knows and if she did it, then we gank her."
Sam ignored Dean's bloodthirsty rant. He understood Dean's anger at anyone responsible for hurting Emily but there was something more going on in his voice. "Is everything all right up there? You sound weird." The last time they'd talked, Dean had sounded relaxed and happy to be spending time with his daughter.
There was silence for a few seconds and Dean said, "Drake showed up to apologize and it just didn't feel right."
"Apologize? That is weird. What did he do?"
"Nothing. Just said he was sorry and split. I'm still keeping an eye out for him, though. I don't trust him."
"What else?"
"I told Emily to run when Drake showed up and she didn't and when I corrected her about it later, she cried." There was the trouble. The last thing Dean wanted to do was hurt Emily and it was clear he thought he had.
"Did you yell?" Sam asked, trying not to sound judgmental.
"No. Well, when I told her to run I yelled but not later."
Damn. He was going to agonize over every single decision and this little girl was going to learn quickly that her tears had serious power over Dean. "Dean, just because you told her she should listen to you doesn't make you a bad guy," Sam said. "That's what you're supposed to do."
"You remember how pissed off Dad would get if we didn't call him 'sir' and how he'd blow if we didn't obey? Remember that?" Dean's voice sounded sad and angry. "We were scared of him, Sam. We loved him and we were scared of him at the same time." Despite all of Dean's desperate devotion to John Winchester, the very last thing he wanted to become was a father forged in the same mold.
"You think she's going to be scared of you because you told her she did something wrong so she wouldn't do it again and get hurt?" Sam asked. This wasn't the time to let Dean wallow in his doubt. "What a wus. I bet you were hugging her and gave her a big kiss during this terrible scolding and you ended up telling her it was all your fault anyway, right? Damn, what a holy terror, Dean. I'm scared just thinking about it."
"But she cried, Sam," Dean said, still beating himself up. "I don't want her to be scared of me like we were of Dad. Not ever."
"Listen, you've got to teach her things and she's four and scared anyway and sometimes she's going to cry. You can't freak out every time, okay?"
"Okay."
"Look, the other day when I said you sounded like Dad, I was wrong to say that to you. You're not Dad. You're Dean." Sam cranked the car and pulled out into traffic. "Stop being a weenie or Emily's going to walk all over you like the little bitch you are."
"You're the bitch."
"Jerk," Sam said, a smile returning to his face. "Look, I'm going to watch Lindsey and get into her house. I may have to wait until she leaves for work in the morning."
"Go get laid or something."
"Why don't you go get laid and get in a better mood?"
"I've got to make some money and then put this kid to bed, Loser," Dean said, sounding more like himself.
"Great! More women left up there for me when I get back."
Dean dissolved into hysterical laughter. "Yeah, that's a good one."
Sam closed his phone and shook his head. "If I ever give up hunting, I'm giving parenting classes."
***
Dean found Emily in her room with coloring books spread out over her bed. Sleeping Beauty seemed to be the princess of the day and she was coloring her dress half blue and half pink. As usual, Emily wasn't easily distracted from coloring, but she did look up to quickly acknowledge him before going back to her work.
The bed creaked under his weight as he made himself comfortable beside her. "Uncle Sammy said to tell you hello and he misses you," Dean said, watching Emily fill up the page with blue and pink. Putting a hand on her back, he decided this might be the easiest way to talk to her about this afternoon. "Listen, Emily, this afternoon when I yelled at you to run, I want you to know I'm not mad that you didn't. Really, I'm not. But, when I raise my voice or sound bossy when I'm telling you to do something like that it's because I want to keep you safe, okay? It's important that you do what I say when that happens."
She didn't look up and he took her chin in his hand to gently turn her his way. "Understand, Cutie Pie? I'll never tell you to do something that's not for your own good, 'kay?"
The little girl gifted him with a relieved smile and nodded her head.
"Good. So you're not mad at me?"
Another shake of the head followed and she gave up the coloring and climbed into his lap. She sat there for a long time, head resting on his chest, fooling around with the amulet hanging from his neck. Seeing another opportunity, Dean said, "Did you have something else on that pretty necklace of yours? Something silver?"
Still holding the amulet, Emily looked up at him with a tinge of fear returning to her eyes. She shook her head up and down then dropped Dean's necklace and grabbed her own.
"Did someone take it from you, Emily? Lindsey? The lady who brought you here?"
The color drained from her face instantly and her breathing changed from normal to panic. Her frantic grip on the cross tightened.
"Did she hurt you, Sweetie?"
Emily's response was to bury her face in his t-shirt and grab his scar with one shaky little hand. Dean gathered her up closely, not needing a more detailed answer than the trembling child in his arms.
"It's okay, Baby," he whispered, rocking her back and forth. "You don't have to think about it anymore." When she calmed down, he pulled her back and said, "Looks like you still have some work to do on Sleeping Beauty." He eased her off of his lap and after a couple of deep breaths, Emily stretched out over the blanket and went back to her artwork.
He watched her for a long time, sorry that he'd upset her again but at least he had some proof for Sam. That bitch had taken the protective charm from Emily's neck and made her vulnerable. She'd scared his child down to her bones. Whatever Lindsey had done or said to Emily, she'd had days alone with her in the car to thoroughly terrify a four-year-old and had done an excellent job of layering it on top of the trauma from the fire.
Dean typed a quick text message to Sam's phone, telling him about Emily's reaction and ended it with "L is one dead bitch" and closed his phone with a snap.
TBC