Chapter Seven
"Who the hell is Charles Ranulf?" Dean asked. "And can we get something to eat? I'm starving."
A grateful restaurant staff began frying catfish and hush puppies for the group as Billy explained his theory. "This guy is a real weird one. He bought up a bunch of land in the old Titus community, including some of the old buildings. He never comes to town. Nobody knows anything about him. It's got to be him."
Given several minutes and a smart phone, Elizabeth knew even more about him. "He's an ex-Marine, decorated. Divorced, no kids. But I don't see anything else out there on him. No arrest record, no big credit issues."
Dean eyed her with open approval. "You are as good as Sammy on that thing. Better."
"If I learned anything in law school, it was how to dig up information," she replied with a wink that sent shivers down his spine.
"So what now? Do we go confront him? With what? Suspicion of being an evil warlock?" Park asked as he dug into the plate of hush puppies a waitress set before him.
"We don't have to confront him," Dean explained as he pulled flaky white catfish off the bone, blowing at the steam that rose from his fork. "We just go visit. Any pretense will do. If he's up to no good, we'll probably know it pretty fast."
"How?" Park pressed him. "We need warrants and probable cause."
"I don't. All I need is a fake ID and a crowbar." Dean gave him a grin as he popped a hush puppy into his mouth.
"That's all I didn't need to hear." Billy rose from the table. "You guys do what you need to do, but I don't know anything about it." He tossed his napkin next to his plate. "But call me if you need me. I'll be on the radio all night. I know where this yo-yo lives. I won't be far."
They finished their meal and headed to the parking lot.
Dean put his hand on Elizabeth's arm and called for the SBI boys to wait on him. "Lizzy, I'm going to do something I've never done before. It's really hard for me, but I want you to know that I'm counting on you to see it through." With a groan of reluctance, he pressed the keys to the Impala into her hand. "Lizzy, take Baby home for me."
She eyed him suspiciously, but took the keys. "Be careful, Dean. Okay?" She stepped closer to kiss him on the cheek, but he turned his face so that the kiss landed on his lips instead.
She jumped a little in surprise, but didn't pull away when he reached up to her cheek. "You are incredible, you know that?"
"I mean it. Be careful," she answered. Then she kissed him again, this time right on the mouth. Her lips were soft and warm against his, and despite the fact that Ross and Greenough were waiting for him, he couldn't help taking the time to deepen the kiss, to explore just a moment, to pull her body closer to him so that he could feel the way she curved against him.
She'd asked him to be careful. It was a tall order for Dean Winchester. Danger hung around him like cheap cologne, and he knew it. He danced around the edge between life and death constantly and had dipped his toe into the Styx more than once.
But Elizabeth was warm and whole in his arms, full of life. She didn't belong anywhere near the dark carnival he and Sam called an existence. He needed her safe. So he let himself kiss her once more. He allowed himself one more microsecond in her arms. Then he set her back away from him and said, "I'll be fine. Get yourself home. I'll come get my keys when we're done."
"I'll take good care of her for you," Elizabeth promised as she slipped behind the wheel of the Impala.
He nodded and watched her drive away, his emotions twisting inside him.
Several minutes later, the three men arrived at Charles Ranulf's house. Ranulf met them at the door, huge and gruff.
Dean flashed an ID at the door and declared, "We're from the gas company. Does this home have natural gas?"
The possibility of exploding gas lines gave them all the entrance they needed into the house and even out to the sheds and barns with Dean's EMF meter serving as a gas leak detector.
Ranulf gave unsuspicious answers to all their questions and didn't so much as blink when Dean accidentally on purpose spilled a little holy water from his Evian bottle on his arm. The EMF detector didn't so much as chirp once during the entire visit.
"You've sure got a nice place out here," Greenough commented genially. "Somebody said you've actually got some of the old buildings from Titus on the property."
"Yeah. That's one of the reasons I bought the place. I'm a history buff. I thought it would be cool to restore an old ghost town," Ranulf stated. "But most of the buildings are falling down so bad it'd take more money than I've got to put them back right."
"Speaking of ghosts, I bet it's a pretty creepy place." Park laughed.
"Not really. The creepiest stuff out there are the possums and rat snakes," Ranulf replied with a laugh of his own. "But I do have to say that I don't ever go out to the old Kelly shack. That place does make my skin crawl."
"Any gas lines run out that direction?" Dean asked. "Which way is the house?"
Ranulf pointed out into the woods. "It's about a mile down this old logging road," he stated. "But there's no gas or water or electricity out there. It's been abandoned for a century at least. The house is nearly on the ground. I was going to bulldoze it when I first bought the land and put up some shooting houses for deer season."
"Sounds like a good idea," Dean offered.
"Yeah. Good idea. But every time I got near that place I felt like somebody was watching me. So I just left it alone." Ranulf shook his head.
"You don't look like the type that scares easy, if you don't mind my saying so," Dean commented, hoping the man would elaborate.
"I was boots on the ground all over the world during my active duty days. I saw all kinds of action. So no I don't scare easy. But I'm not going back out there." Ranulf's voice was firm. "Some things you just don't disturb."
They thanked the man and walked back to the Taurus.
"So what do you think?" Dean asked as they stood around the trunk. "Worth a trip down a logging road to check it out?"
"I don't know," Park answered. "We've seen all kinds of crazy stuff lately. Maybe we just let this bit of crazy go."
"I agree." Greenough shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Ranulf strikes me as a straight-up kind of guy. A little weird. A loner. But I think he was being honest. Maybe we let this one go."
And maybe I come back later by myself, Dean decided. Or maybe not.
Dean slipped into the back seat of the SBI Taurus and let them drop him off at the apartment. He couldn't help a little sigh of relief as he spotted Baby in her parking place just where she ought to be. He went upstairs and knocked on Lizzy's door.
"What did you find?" she asked eagerly as he came inside.
"Nothing. Not a damned thing. Charles Ranulf is a big, scary looking dude, but nothing funky hung around him that I could tell." Dean sighed and fell onto her couch. "We've got a lead to check, but nothing concrete."
"Have you talked to Sam?"
"Nah. He's on a date with Abigail. I think they had evening plans if you know what I mean. I didn't want to bother them if I didn't have to. God knows we don't usually get to spend time living like civilians." Dean stretched his feet out on the ottoman and rubbed his face.
"Civilians?"
"You've seen how Park and Greenough operate. They're the law and order side of all this. Sam and I are the special forces. We do what they can't."
Elizabeth sat down beside him, her feet curled up beneath her. She'd changed into yoga pants and a big t-shirt.
"It's late. I better let you get to bed," he declared. "Too much weirdness in one night isn't good for you." He got up and headed for the door. "All I wanted was a nice quiet dinner so we could talk. I want you to understand who I am and what I do. Lizzy, I really like you. I just wanted you to like me too."
"I do like you. And tonight I got another chance to see what you do. It's terrifying, but it's real and it's important." She stood up and walked him to the door. "And at least dates with you are interesting."
"So you'll go out with me again?" he asked. "You'll come eat the frozen lasagna I left in the oven?"
"No. I am not going to let you reheat that thing. We'll cook together over here tomorrow. Deal?" She smiled at him and his insides lit up with joy as he agreed.
She leaned forward on her toes and gave him a soft, brief kiss then pressed his keys into his hand. "Good night, Dean. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Good night." He headed back to his place. Scooter yawned and stretched as he entered, then followed him into the kitchen. He refreshed the dog's water bowl, then made himself a sandwich. Only a few minutes later, he'd finished eating, brushed his teeth, and crawled into bed.
It was quiet, so quiet he could hear the crickets chirping outside the window. Scooter curled up against his back in a little warm ball. Everything about the building was peaceful. The town was peaceful. How could there be something so wrong out there? Where was it all coming from? Multiple hauntings, crazy Choctaw monsters, possessed hardware stores. But in all that action, nobody had been seriously hurt.
It felt like all the bad juju just couldn't stick. Like as hard as evil tried to infiltrate this sleepy little place, it kept sliding off it.
But Dean knew that wasn't how evil worked. It would keep grasping and digging until it found a toehold. Unless they stopped it now, it would only get worse.
Finally he fell asleep. As he slept, he dreamed. He could see smoke rising in the trees near Charles Ranulf's place. He followed the smoke to the chimney of a little house down the logging road. He walked closer and closer to the place and could feel a presence there behind the walls, a presence that woke and stretched. And in his dream, Dean was afraid.
Beside him Scooter sat up and growled softly. The little dog hopped off the bed and wandered through the apartment, sniffing the air and growling. At last he stopped at the kitchen window and barked. The moonlight illuminated a face, just for a moment, then it was gone. Scooter snorted and barked again, then as if satisfied, went back to his spot on Dean's bed, curled up beside him and went back to sleep.
The next morning, Dean woke up feeling as if he'd been pulled through a hedge backwards. Not even coffee and a shower could fix the sensation that he'd spent the night running for his life.
Scooter padded through the kitchen then stopped next to his water bowl and stretched. "Tell me about it, Scoots. I'm pooped too." Dean refilled the bowl with clean water and ruffled the little dog's fur. Scooter repaid him with a lick on the hand, then proceeded to drink deeply from the bowl. Suddenly, he stopped and looked up at the kitchen window with a low growl, then a single bark.
"What is it? What do you see?" Dean leaned over the sink and peered through the glass. "I get nothing, boy. Not even a squirrel." Scooter sniffed once then went back to his water, apparently satisfied.
Dean looked at the clock and wondered if it was too early to call Elizabeth. "It's never too early to text," he decided and sent a "you awake?" to her phone. To his delight, he got back a "yes" to both his first question and "breakfast?" To his even deeper delight, she followed up with "come over."
He dressed and fairly ran down the hall, Scooter at his heels. "Do you mind if Scooter joins us? He sort of invited himself along," Dean explained as she opened the door.
"Not at all. Come on in, Scootie-baby." She knelt to give Scooter a scratch behind the ears and a kiss on the head and asked if Sam was coming as well.
"He's still asleep," Dean answered. Since his brother hadn't returned from Abigail's place, he could only assume that to be true. "It's just us. And truthfully, I really like it this way."
Elizabeth made him a cup of coffee. "So he didn't come back from Abby's last night?" she guessed.
Dean shook his head.
"I'm not surprised. Abby really likes him." She opened the refrigerator. "I don't have much in here, I'm afraid. I really shouldn't have offered breakfast. But I wanted to see you."
Dean felt his face light up. "I'm not hard to please. I'd be having cereal at my place. What did you want to see me about?"
"I had a crazy dream last night," Elizabeth began as she sat down at the little table across from him. She played with her coffee mug for several seconds, a frown on her face.
"Clearly it wasn't a good dream," he said, reaching out to take her hand in his. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."
She looked up at him, a touch of fear in her eyes. "I need to tell you. It was about you and it scared me."
Dean stood and took her by the hand to lead her to the living room. He pulled her down beside him on the couch and put an arm around her shoulders. Scooter immediately hopped up to lie curled up at her other side. "I shouldn't have taken you with me last night," he apologized. "I shouldn't have exposed you to more of my craziness."
She squeezed his hand. "No, I'm okay with it. I wanted to see what you do. I want to know. The dream was not about the restaurant. It was about a house in the woods. There was smoke coming from a chimney and you followed it."
Dean cleared his throat. Her words triggered the memory of his dreams from the night before. Suddenly he could recall the house, the smoke, and the presence he felt inside. "How did you know about that?" he asked. "Did I say something last night?"
"No. I just had this dream that something in that house woke up and came after you. Did you go there last night?" her voice shook.
He pulled her even more closely into his chest. "It was a dream. We went to Ranulf's house but that was all. Nothing happened there. He was weird but clean. No spooks. It was just a dream."
It had to be. He kept telling himself there was no way she'd dreamed the same thing he had.
"I was worried about you last night. I kept hoping you'd call or text when you left there. I'm glad you came over when you got in." She relaxed against him just a bit more as he played with her hair.
"Worried? About me?" A feeling ran through him. At first he thought it was panic, then he realized it was excitement. She was worried about him. Nobody ever worried about him. Nobody but Sam knew he was ever in any trouble and nine times out of ten Sam was in the same deep shit right beside him.
"You deal with terrible things," she said with a shiver. "How can I not worry?"
"I'll make a deal with you," he answered. "I promise to be careful if you promise to trust me. I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself. I know what I'm doing."
"I know you do. But I just can't shake the feeling that something terrible is out there looking for you." She gazed up at him, those big brown eyes anxious for him.
He had to kiss her then. He had to kiss away that anxiety. But just as much, he wanted to imprint himself on her so she would keep caring about him. In her eyes right that moment, he was valuable. He meant something to her, something he hadn't messed up or thrown away. In that instant of time, he was worth worrying over, and as much as he didn't want to cause her pain, he also didn't want her to stop worrying because it would mean she'd stopped caring.
More than anything, he needed Elizabeth to care about him.
A vacuum existed inside him, a gigantic hole left by the past, a longing he'd worked all his life to ignore. He'd devoted himself to helping his dad, to trying to please him by hunting better, longer, and more diligently. He'd devoted himself to Sam, to raising him and protecting him, to teaching him everything he'd learned.
But until that moment, Dean had never allowed anyone to care about him. He'd always kept the rest of the world at arm's length, making sure his tough exterior protected him from getting too involved. But something about this smart, sexy, small-town lawyer melted away his shell. Hell, he wanted to be with her so badly he hadn't even tried to sleep with her.
Now the empty place inside him ached for her. It screamed for picket fences and lazy mornings and evenings at home. It begged for her to hold him and love him and make a place for him at her side so he didn't have to wander anymore. Elizabeth could be his anchor, his safe haven. She could fill up the hole with her love for him and he would know forever that he was valuable.
He kissed her over and over, trying to take her very essence into himself. Please, his mind whispered over and over. Please. But he had no idea what he was asking. His heart pounded in his chest, his blood rushing in his veins, and he knew he was rapidly approaching the place where thought turned into instinct.
He forced himself to stop his hands at her shoulders. He willed himself to pull back, to take a deep breath, to allow a few inches of space between them.
He became aware that she too was out of breath, her hands at his waist. He wanted to talk to her, but he didn't have words for the way she made him feel. The hole inside him was so raw, so desperate, that he couldn't address it. His throat ached with emotion, fear and hope and desire all rolled up together in an overwhelming tidal wave of vulnerability.
"I don't..." he began. "I can't..."
Somehow Elizabeth understood. "It's okay." She pulled him into her arms and held him tightly. "You don't have to," she murmured into his ear. He buried his face in her neck and just tried to breathe.