Dean stomped into the motel room and pushed the door behind him. Sam barely caught it before it closed and stepped in.
"Dean-" Sam started but Dean raised his hand.
"Don't start with me, Sam." He snapped.
Sam shut the door and turned to his older brother, giving him the knowing look.
Dean caught it and shook his head.
"Sammy, I'm serious-"
"Oh I know-"
"You know, she still doesn't get it! After all this time she's still clueless-"
"What exactly did you want her to say, Dean?"
"I don't know! An 'I'm sorry' would be nice!-"
"For what? Because she didn't want you to tag along? Are you still mad over something that happened a year ago?"
Dean looked over at his brother angrily, making his frown lines and crow's feet more defined. The hunter's life aged you fast, but on Dean Winchester it didn't look too bad. It made him look a little more distinguished, if anything. John had the same lines in his face the day he died. The old "wear and tear of the business," his father had called it. "You can't be a beauty queen in this line of work, son," said John Winchester. "You age quick and kick it young...if you're lucky."
Of course Sam had a point. Dean wasn't exactly sure why Anya got under his skin. She did it with such quickness and ease, he had no idea how to handle her. That unnerved him more than he was willing to admit.
"Whatever, man." Dean dismissed the conversation and his thoughts as he kicked off his shoes and sat on the edge of his bed.
"Look," Sam started, standing in front of him and loosening his tie, "Anya's here now. The least we can do is work this case together. After that, we can go separate ways. Cool?"
Dean took a moment, pondering the choices, but nodded. Sam gave a quick smile and turned to take his clothes off.
He knew that what really pissed him off was the fact that she still got to him. He'd slept with a number of girls since they last spoke. So why was she able to get him riled up? He'll admit that he had an immediate attraction to her, but he'd also had that with many other women who were less stubborn.
His thoughts were halted by a small but sudden knock on the door.
Sam and Dean exchanged looks. They both knew the hunting business too well to give anyone any information on where they were lodging. So who could possibly be knocking on their door?
Sam quietly grabbed his pistol on the bed and cautiously walked up to the door,slipping on a t-shirt and tucking the weapon into the back of his jeans. Dean watched his younger brother anxiously, eyeing his gun that was cross on the room on the desk.
Sam grabbed the knob and opened in just a tad to see who it was. There was a moment of silence that almost riled Dean until he heard Sam say her name.
"Anya!"
Dean's body tensed in surprise.
Sam released the knob and stepped back, allowing his old acquaintance to step in.
Anya was wearing the same, dark gray suit that she had had on when he last saw her not too long ago, but her hair was now completely down. Waves of curls gently fell over her face.
Dean blinked.
"Jeez. You guys sure are on edge." Anya smiled awkwardly as she eyed Sam's gun that was known resting in his hand at his side.
"No one was supposed to know we were here." Dean opted in, his voice a little ragged.
Anya finally looked over at him. Her eyes had a softness to them. He sensed that that look was a form a surrender.
"I'm not following you if that's what you think, Winchester."
Dean allowed her a quarter of a smile. She presented him with the same.
"Well how did you know we were here?" Sam inquired.
Anya looked over at him and released air as if coming back to life.
"Well, believe it or not, I'm staying at the same motel. Right down the hall actually. And I figured the chances of someone else have a duplicate Impala were slim to none….. So… I took my chances. I knocked on about 3 doors until I got to this one."
"Well what can we do for you." Dean rested his hands in his pockets.
Anya, aware that she was the reason for his hostility, sighed of defeat.
"I figured I owed you guys an apology." she admitted.
Dean raised an eyebrow and looked over at his brother. He then released his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms.
"Oh really?" he seemed unsure.
Anya rolled her eyes playfully.
"Let's not make this difficult, Winchester."
Dean raised his hands and allowed her to continue.
"You have to understand, I was used to it being Phil or nothing. If I didn't have my dad, I did it alone. That's how he wanted me to be. I guess when you offered to help, I couldn't let go of that. So, I'm sorry for running out on you guys. I guess I didn't want anyone else to get hurt."
"We only wanted to help you." Sam reasoned.
Dean notice Anya's lips twist uncomfortably.
"Yes. I get that. It's just-"
"You wanted to find the bastard on your own." Dean resolved.
Anya face lit up and her chest deflated. Finally, they were on the same level.
"Yes. Exactly." she breathed.
No matter how much he resented her method of leaving, Dean could understand her need to do things her way. He also knew it was in his nature to overthink and overprotect.
They gave one another a look of truce. Finally burying an issue that should've ended a while ago.
Dean, eager to close the gap between them, tried to hide his smile.
"Annnnnnnnndddd…." He coaxed .
Anya sighed exasperatedly and looked over at Sam.
"Dean." Sam reasoned.
"Nah ah. I want the rest. Come on." He playfully beckoned the words from her with his first two fingers and inclined his head slightly, standing his ground and not giving an inch.
Anya fought her smile.
"Fine! I'm sorry for snapping and being mean. You didn't deserve it." she admitted, shutting up abruptly and dipping her head to hide her grin and the new color in her cheeks.
Dean, victorious and relieved, stood straight and flashed a smile.
"Now, say Dean Winchester is the best looking hunter around and he is awesome and a complete bad ass and probably a monster in-"
"Aaaaaalright, Dean! Enough, I'm sure you've made your point," interrupted Sam, chuckling awkwardly.
Anya snorted a laugh.
"I'd rather be snatched by a shapeshifter."
"I can make that happen." Dean challenged.
"Well, I'm glad to see all is well," Sam sighed shutting the door completely and walking past them and over to the desk. He opened his laptop, "Now can we get on the case."
Dean and Anya looked at one another.
Dean nodded and stepped back allowing Anya to pass him.
"So what's the deal here?" she asked leaning over Sam
"Well, it all centers around this house." Sam pointed at an article he had saved to his computer, "So far three men have gone missing," he furrowed his brow and scrolled through the file. "Kenny Harlem and Brad Kinshaw went into the house on September 4th, about a month ago, with friends around 11 o'clock. They never came out."
Anya rested on the arm of the couch and picked up the laptop, looking at the photos of the teenage boys in the article. They couldn't have been older than 17.
"Then we have Carl Nethers, " Sam explained, reaching over to clickt he next article, "He was the current grounds keeper. Went in for a late shift last night, never came home." Sam turned to look at Anya and Dean.
Dean's arms were crossed and eyes focused on the computer screen. Anya straightened up and licked her bottom lip in frustration.
"Well what do we know about the house."
Sam turned to the computer and skimmed the article.
"Ummm we know it was a civil war museum for about 50 years until the first victims went missing."
"What was their reasoning for closing?" Dean asked.
Sam skimmed a little more. He then turned fully toward them.
"Under construction."
Anya and Dean exchanged glances.
"Did you see any constructions going on in the house?" she asked him.
Dean shook his head.
"So we need to talk to the friends, see what they remember about that night." Dean said.
"Also we need to see if we can find any employees of this museum. Maybe they've seen some flickering lights or felt cold spots." Anya added.
"Ok. Sam and I will talk to the friends. Anya, look and see if you can locate an employee. See if they have any insight. We'll back here and get the facts together," Dean ordered.
Anya saluted him, "Aye Aye captain."
She gave Sam a playful wink and headed out the door.
When the door shut, Sam gave Dean a playful smirk.
"What?" Dean huffed, suddenly irritated.
"You know, you could've gone with Anya. I could talk to the friend myself." Sam teased as he tightened his tie.
"Really Sam?" annoyance was visible on Dean's face, but that didn't stop his younger brother from probing him.
"Oh come on. Just admit it! You totally have a thing for Anya." He laughed.
Dean sat on his bed, facing Sam and shook his head.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh really? So you guys don't make goo goo eyes at each other whenever you get the chance? Oh! And let's not forget the blow up you just had at the house. You never get that mad unless… you know." Sam egged his brother on.
"Fine! Alright. I-I'm into her. But that doesn't matter right now." He looked down uneasily as he slipped his shoes back on.
"And why is that?"
After both shoes were on and tied, Dean stood.
"Because. We have more important things to do than to worry about stupid feelings. Besides, I barely know her, man. We just got on talking terms. So if you don't mind, could you get out of your soapbox emotions? We got a case to solve here." He grabbed his jacket and swept past Sam and out the door.
Sam, with a widened smile, followed him out.
Anya pulled up to her destination. She checked her phone to make sure she had the right address. After brief research on her phone, Anya found the most recent employee at the museum. Though she had many to choose from, she chose, Matilda Burns. Matilda had been the only employee to actually smile in her online photo. The customer reviews online also praised that Matilda was the best tour guide to have; which included words like, lively, cheerful, energetic.
Anya totally got that vibe as she looked out her passenger window at Matilda's home. It was a Pepto Bismol pink with pale white windows. The lawn was freshly mowed and a beautiful array of flowers decorated the garden surrounding her porch.
"Welp, here goes nothing." Anya mumbled as she kicked her car door open. Stepping out of the car, her left heel got snagged in a sidewalk crack and she momentarily lost her balance. Boy, she would killed her for jeans and sneakers right now.
Her small heels clicked as she walked through the smooth gray pavement and up to the porch.
She touched the doorbell and waited as it rung pleasantly inside the house.
After a moment, a middle aged, woman answered the door.
"Hello." She greeted with a smile. Though she wasn't nearly that old, wrinkles set on her face as she smiled. She had brown, shoulder length hair with silver streaks.
"Hello ma'am. I am agent Sikes with the FBI. Just wanted to ask you a few questions about the museum where you work." Anya flashed her badge quickly and returned it to her back pocket.
Matilda's smile faltered a bit but she stepped back to let her in.
After she was fully in, Matilda shut the door and walked further into the hallway. Anya followed.
The inside of the home about about a lively as the outside. Plants and paintings filled the hallway. She led Anya to the small living room next to the kitchen. Anya took a seat on the couch while Matilda sat across from her in a chair.
"It's truly such a sad thing… what happened to those boys… and Carl. W-We just hired him." Matilda high pitched voice rang as she touched his hands to her mouth in despair.
Anya scooted towards the edge of the couch and touched her knee in comfort.
"This will only take a moment of your time, Matila. I appreciate you agreeing to speak with me on my impromptu visit."
"Anything to help, dear."
Anya gave her a reassuring smile and retracted her hand.
"Ok, so, how long have you worked for this museum?"
"The Hatty's Plantation Museum? I've worked there… going on….15 years."
"Wow that's a long time."
"I love the job. We get plenty of tourists that want to see old civil war memorabilia. Though, we've always had stiff competition with the other museum downtown, the Ripley Riot museum, we continued to have good business."
"Ripley Riot?" Anya inquired.
Matilda nodded.
"It's a museum dedicated to the Ripley Riot. One of the biggest slave rebellions during that era. All lead by Leroy Ripley."
"Ahhh I see. Well, do you remember seeing anything strange in the days that led up to the missing teens?"
Matilda looked at Anya questioningly. Anya simplified her question.
"Any… flickering lights or cold spots in the house…?" she coached.
Matilda looked up in thought.
"Not that I can remember. I mean, if there were I probably didn't even notice. The days leading up to that tragedy were pretty busy days. We added a new piece to our museum. A pendant necklace that had been worn by Ms. Elizabeth Hatty was on display at the Ripley Riot museum. After some coaxing, the owners of the museum decided that it was much better off at our museum, since it was Ms. Hatty's original home and all."
"Wow, so the necklace was moved to your museum and days later, the teens go missing?"
Matilda nodded. Her face screwed into curiosity as she had never put the two facts together before.
Anya took a moment to think.
"Ms. Burns, I'm a history buff myself, could you tell me about Elizabeth Hatty?"
"Well, she was the daughter of Isaac Hatty, the plantation owner. He was a huge cotton farmer. Had over 100 slaves on that land. That's actually where the rebellion started. Leroy was one of Isaac Hattty's slaves. Not much is known about Elizabeth. I do know that she died alone, in that house. Poor girl never found true love, I guess."
"Ms. Burns, where is Elizabeth buried?"
Matilda eyes Anya suspiciously.
"She wasn't buried. She was cremated."
Damn.
Anya, itching to relay the information, stood abruptly.
"Thank you for your time Ms. Burns. I'll let you know if I have any more questions."
Matilda stood as well and nodded.
As Anya saw herself out, she pulled out her cell.
Crap. She had forgotten to get Dean or Sam's cellphone number.
She dialed Bobby's number instead.
"Hello?"
"Bobby I need Deans number." Anya said with haste as she shuffled into her car.
"How is it you are calling me for his number when you're working a case with him?"
"Oh Bobby, I just live to annoy you. Dean's number, please."
"Fine. 467-879-2675. Try not to kill one another will ya?"
Anya started her car.
"Didn't you hear Bobby? Dean and I called a truce." She said with mock excitement.
"Yeah? And how long will that last?"
"We'll see. Anyways I'll call you about the case later. Got some info I need to share."
"Don't die."
"Wouldn't dream of it." she hung up and immediately dialed Dean's number.
It rang once.
"What did you find out?" he answered with ease.
Anya paused.
"How did you know it was me?" she asked suspiciously.
"I was hoping it was." He replied coolly.
She tensed as her stomach flipped.
"Well… I got some things to share."
"Great, so do we. Meet you back at the motel."
The line went dead almost immediately.
"Huh," Anya stared at the phone for a moment, started her car, and drove off.