Previously: Daniel Landrick, Greg's sixteen year old son, provides Sam and Dean with the limited notes his father left behind.

The Birds
installment 4

Sparrow leaned on the door post, wearing a silk robe which she had tied shut to cover her shorts and camisole when she saw Sam and Dean on the front steps. She crossed her arms over her chest and eyed the brothers with disbelief before they even started speaking.

"Hi," Sam began, "We're from the car insurance – "

"Do you always play pool with your clients?" Sparrow quirked up an eyebrow.

Dean coughed. "Uhm… well, no, that was a bit of a breach of protocol, but, you see, we didn't know - "

"Parakeet didn't have car insurance. She wasn't the driver."

Sam and Dean blanched. "Uhm… life insurance company?" Dean tried, flashing the most charming smile he could muster.

Sparrow's other eyebrow arched to join the first. She shook her hair out of her face, before stating casually, "Parakeet was twenty-one. You really think she had life insurance? Furthermore, do you think I've not heard that one before?"

Dean exchanged a look with Sam. Sam shrugged. Dean finally asked, "Can we come in?"

"No. You can get the hell off my porch, that's what you can do. I, nor anybody else around here know anything about that sonuvabitch Landrick. And I'd appreciate you not using my baby sister's death as a means of interrogating me about it."

"That's a kinda angry way to talk about a dead guy you don't know anything about," Dean noted aloud, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, well, whatever. Get the hell off my property before I fetch my shot gun."

Sam took hold of Dean's elbow and started down the stairs, but Dean wouldn't budge. "I'm sorry," he locked eyes with Sparrow, "about your sister's death, and especially sorry if some loser came by before us bothering you about it for the sake of Landrick. We're interested in what happened to your sister, the hell with Landrick." Dean knew how to sweet talk a lady, and though Sparrow was outwardly tougher than most, a sincere apology seemed just the right way through that exterior.

Sparrow sighed and tossed her head because her hair had fallen in her eyes again. "It was a car accident."

"Anything suspicious?"

"Are drunk drivers suspicious?"

Dean frowned when he realized Sparrow really wasn't going to give up that a car crash had not killed her sister. "Okay, don't like yell at me or anything for this next one, but I gotta ask it." From past experience, sheepish grins got him just as far as straight apologies. "Any small animals around, rodents maybe?"

Sparrow laughed dryly and shook her head. "The hell should I know? I wasn't there."

"No, no, that's not what I meant." Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "Any problems with rodents around here?" He gestured the house.

Sparrow smirked and rolled her eyes. "No." She stepped back inside. "You boys aren't as dumb as you look. I'll give you that," she started to close the door. "But you're sticking your noses where they don't belong. I suggest you and all your hunter friends just get the hell outta this town, 'kay? Wouldn't want to see anything happen to those pretty faces of yours." The dead bolt tumbled into place.

Dean gaped.

"I think she knew we were hunters the whole time," Sam managed, more than a little startled. "That whole routine, it was just to string us along, make us squirm…" He stared dumbstruck at the door. "What the hell is going on in this town, Dean?"

Sam was pretty sure Dean was going to snarl an 'I don't know', but instead his jaw fell slack, and he pointed to the porch space behind Sam. Sam slowly turned around.

If it stretched its neck, the bird could have bit Sam's ear. It was all white with yellow eyes, and with the exception of fluffing its feathers back into place upon landing, it was statuesque, just watching Sam and Dean with its head cocked.

"I… I think it's a great white heron," Sam whispered, "and I don't know what it's doing here, because those are Florida birds…"

Dean wrinkled his nose. "Sam, how the hell do you know that?"

Sam didn't get to answer, because the heron took one long, slow stride forward. He and Dean hopped back. The bird cocked its head to the other side, took another step forward, and watched Sam and Dean take one more back.

"Sam… I don't care where it's from… I don't think it wants us here."

Sam swallowed. "Agreed, let's go." They scrambled down the steps.