"He sent me to get groceries, and then I came back and...he was gone..." Alex Porter mumbles, as his eyes zone out.
"And you said you found the note on the fridge?" Sam inquires. "What did the note say?"
"I already told the police all this." Alex snarls. "I swear to God, if I have to repeat myself to another fed-"
"Just once more will be enough." Dean assures him.
"Fine..." Alex inhales and exhales a long breath of preparation. "Dear Alex, my love. The time...has come for me to say goodbye. Don't blame yourself...this is entirely my fault. I just want you to know that...I...had...the best year of my life..."
He falls to pieces there and then on the antique armchair. Dean looks to the floor pitifully, as Sam scribbles on his notepad.
"One more question, Mr Porter." Sam says. Dean flashes him a wary look. "You say the two of you had been together for six years. Josh said he had 'the best year of his life'...what made this year so special for him?"
Alex dries his eyes and tries to regain his composure. "Last summer, we had an argument. A big one. I told him I never wanted to see him again, and ran away. I travelled all around the world, covering my tracks so he wouldn't find me. After about six months, I realised that I loved him, and came back, all the way from New Zealand. That was this time last year."
"So you cannot think of any reason Josh would have been driven to do this?"
"No, not at all." Alex sniffs. "We were financially secure, our relationship was stable, we were both healthy. We were so happy."
He stares blankly into the pale white wall, silently nostalgic. Dean coughs, indicating their time is up.
"Thank you for your time, Mr Porter." Sam nods, pocketing his notepad and pen.
"Yeah...we'll see ourselves out..." Dean nudges his brother towards the door.
"So the doctor at the hospital told us that there were no animal tracks found at the scene, and Alex just told us that everything was fine between them." Sam mutters as they cross the road to the impala. "So what does this all mean?"
"Maybe the guy tore himself to pieces?" Dean suggests sarcastically. "I don't know, Sammy, I don't see a case here."
"Ok, well before we go, let's do a little research."
"Into what?"
"Any similar incidents that have occurred recently round here. Let's start by looking at the archives."
"Oh man, I hate libraries..." Dean groans, opening the door of the impala.
Missoula's library is a glimmering glass structure not far from Mr Porter's house, filled to the brim with busy students from the nearby University of Montana. The brothers sit on the second floor, at a desk beside a window which overlooks the rest of the city, and the distant mountains.
Sam is hard at work, with his head inside a book, while Dean is casually browsing the internet.
"Damn..." Dean mutters. "All the porn sites on here are blocked..."
"This is a university library, Dean, what did you expect?" Sam sighs. "Have you even done any research yet?"
"Research isn't my thing, Sammy." he shrugs. "You were the one who went to college."
"Well fortunately, I have found something." Sam says, and opens the book onto the table for Dean to see. "'December 2003: a woman was found ripped to pieces in a local park.', 'December 1991: a man was eaten alive in his own back yard, while his children watched.'"
"Grim stuff." Dean frowns with distaste.
"Do you not see the connection?" Sam asks in disbelief. "December, Dean. All these attacks took place in December."
"So what? Is this a seasonal demon that operates alongside Santa?"
"I sure hope not. But I'm gonna need the internet to gather background data on these three victims; to see if they have anything in common."
Dean groans, and spins the computer round for Sam to use. After some speedy typing and a few clicks, Sam comes to a conclusion. "The only thing which connects these three people is that they all attended the University of Montana..."
"We're gonna need to speak to the relatives of these victims."
Alex Porter is standing in the wardrobe of his house, his fingertips feeling the fibres of his boyfriend's clothes. The creases, the colours and the scent all trigger painful memories. He uses the sleeve of Josh's jumper to wipe the tears from his cheek.
When the experience becomes too agonising, Alex shuts the doors of the wardrobe and sits back down on the bed. The clock on the bedside table is ticking monotonously. The curtains are closed and the lamp is still on, casting a cold light around the bedroom. Beside the lamp, Alex sees the pen and paper Josh used to write his note. And behind that, a small leather-bound book.
He leans forward and picks up the book gently, so it won't fall apart. 'Astrology & Astronomy: The Myths of the Cosmos combined with the Science of Today.' The title is engraved in gold on the ancient blue cover. There is a bookmark inserted into the top.
Alex turns the yellowed pages carefully, and begins to read, when the doorbell chimes. He sighs and drops the book carelessly onto the bed to answer the door. When he opens it, he is less than pleased to find the familiar FBI agents standing on the doorstep.
"What the hell do you want now?"
"Sorry to bother you again, Sir." Dean smiles charmingly. "We were hoping we could have another chat."
"Go to hell." Alex snarls.
The door slams abruptly in their face, taking them both aback.
"I told you I should have spoken first." Sam hisses.
"Shut up." Dean mumbles.