The police station was nearly empty when Dean arrived suited up with his fake FBI ID in his pocket. He approached the front desk and cringed at the sight of a duck shaped paperweight sitting next to the computer. What is with these people and ducks? He thought to himself as he cleared his throat, making his presence known to the tiny officer sitting behind the desk.
The officer was a small, balding man who looked around 40 years old and bored. He looked at Dean like a bug that needed to be squashed and was clearly not amused with the sight of the boy in front of him and his nicely combed hair and pretty little suit. He took a sip of his black and from the looks of it cold, coffee.
"Can I help you?" He clicked away on the computer, no longer looking at Dean. His tie was obviously a clip on and there was a stain on it.
"I hope so, Officer.." Dean waited.
"Finkel." Dean struggled to hold a straight face.
"Yes, Officer Finkel. I'm with the FBI, I was hoping there was someone here I could speak to about the disappearing baby bridge."
"Do you have some ID?" Officer Finkel asked and Dean handed him the fake and hoped, although secretly loving the rush, that Finkel would buy it. Finkel examined the card closely and then handed it back.
"So, Officer Entwistle. You're here about the missing babies? Why is the FBI interested in a few missing babies way out here in the middle of nowhere, West Virginia?" He clicked a few more buttons on his keyboard and the swiveled in his chair to reach the printer behind him. It was an old noisy model and was smashed on the table between piles of paper, and a stack of crushed doughnut boxes. Finkel stared at the paper that slowly inched its way out of the machine, making not even the slightest suggestion that he was going to be in any way helpful. This was not going at all how Dean had planned and he was starting to get annoyed. The thought of kicking little Finkel's little ass was crossing his mind already.
"Let's just say that's for me to know. So can you help me or do I need to ask your boss after I tell him how uncooperative you've been here, you know, obstructing an FBI investigation and all?" He was drumming his fingers on the desk now.
"Relax, big man. I'll tell the Sheriff that you're here." Finkel yanked the paper from the printer, swivled his chair, hit a few numbers on the phone, mumbled something into an intercom and pointed Dean to a room down the hall.
There were three book cases lining the walls of the little room and they were lined with law books, framed certificates and much to Dean's dismay, the room was loaded with stuffed ducks mounted to the walls. At least eight of them. With beady little duck eyes. He was officially getting creeped out by all the ducks. Wendigos and Vampires were one thing, but creepy, beady eyed ducks were an entirely different thing.
Dean jumped at the sound of someone behind him.
"Can I help you young man?" This guy had to be the sheriff, he was ancient and wearing a uniform that must have been made before John Winchester's existence had even been thought of. He shook Deans hand and stepped around him towards the little desk at the back of the room.
"What can you tell me about the babies that have gone missing recently...and what is with the ducks?" Dean couldn't help himself turning to face the sheriff.
"I shot them myself, love duck huntin'." The sheriff smiled, taking a seat and waving his hand toward the chair opposite him, which Dean graciously accepted. "As for the children. We don't know much. They were all girls, all nearly a year old. None of the families knew each other. The only connection is the bridge, they all went missing on the same bridge, snatched out their car seats by someone that got passed all of their parents."
"So someone up and grabbed a baby out of a car and no one noticed?"
"Not exactly," explained the sheriff. "See around this time of year we get a lot of rain, always have. That bridge floods a lot. I guess some people think their cars can handle it but the parents of the missing children, well, their cars couldn't. They all had the same story, see, bridge flooded and they stepped out to push the car, leaving the baby in back seat. When they heard the baby cryin' a few minutes later and looked into the car, the car seat was empty."
"And they never found the babies? No bodies or anything?"
"Not a trace. And it's the damnedest thing, when we got there the bridge wasn't flooded at all, in fact the bridge was nearly dry." Deans eyes widened.
"Why don't you use just close the bridge? About how long did it take for your men to get over there?"
"Because it's the only way to get from that sound of the county to this one. My men were there in less than ten minutes. But how does a damned flooded bridge just dry up in ten minutes?" He threw his hands up in the air.
"I'm not sure, but could you tell me where this bridge is? Investigating the scene of the crimes and all."
The sheriff opened his desk without hesitation and pulled out a map, jotted something down and handed it to Dean. It was a map of the town, with only one thing out of the ordinary on it. Right next to a park by some big monumental trees that the town had dedicated to someone years ago, was a circle around "Crybaby Bridge".