A/n - Hey guys, got a few to upload tonight! Thanks for the reviews :)
The boys and I hit the local library, making use of the microfiche and the stacks to try and find out who our Dead Dock Boy was. Now that we knew what we were after, it seemed like it should be a simple enough salt and burn.
Sam used my description of the ghost to narrow down the time period we needed to focus on, and we browsed local employment records and obits. We were desperate to find anything useful before someone else got hurt. It was dry reading, but it had to be done. At least the research kept the awkward silences to a minimum.
I was reading news stories from autumn of 86. "Hey, guys-"
"Let me finish this page of the 1983 chamber of commerce directory. It's such a great read." I looked over my shoulder at Dean. I rolled my eyes and spared him a half smile. I will admit to being a little glad that he was bored. I'm bitter. Sue me.
Sam shook his head. "What's up?"
"I think I found something;
'The ongoing investigation into the disappearance of Jacob Williams, 22, of Lincoln Ne has yielded few results. The young man was last seen entering the Dock House at Idlewilde resort last march. Authorities are still seeking information in the missing persons case. After a county wide search that concluded just one month ago today, the sheriff released a statement that Mr. Williams is presumed dead. When asked to comment on the impact this tragedy has had on their business, Mr. Mrs. Johnson stated that their primary concern was for the young man's family. Stacy Carter, reported to be romantically involved with Mr. Williams, will be released from St. Luke's psychiatric hospital in the coming weeks, following a nervous breakdown that occurred shortly after the disappearance.' "
I leaned back in my chair, looking fairly smug.
"Picture?" Dean walked up behind me, leaning on the back of my chair. His breath tickled my neck as he scanned the microfiche. I scrolled to the top, where they had included a smiling picture of Jacob Williams. "That's him?" I nodded in response. It was hard to reconcile the hateful, murderous beast from last night with the handsome, bright eyed young man in the picture in front of me.
Dean's hand brushed my shoulder, and I suppressed a shiver. I was going to keep moving forward and keep my cool until this case was over because people needed me, but being around Dean gave me occasional pangs as I remembered last night.
"I'm gonna go talk to the sheriff. See if you guys can find this Stacey chick. Maybe she's still local." I watched Dean walk out, chewing on my bottom lip. The door clicked shut, snapping me out of my daze. Sam raised a brow at me.
"Shut up." I blushed as I moved to the computer bay.
"I didn't say anything." Sam was attempting to look innocent and hide a smile.
"Yeah, well, you're thinking too loud." I muttered, burying myself in my research.
It only took about 20 minutes to find Stacey's address. She lived nearby, and I jotted down the address and handing it to Sam. He nodded his thanks and headed out. I kept digging.
I'd gathered quite a bit of intel and walked back to the resort by the time Dean wandered in to the cabin. He grabbed a couple beers, and handed one to me. I took it with a mumbled thank you, barely looking up from the paper's I'd printed out at the library.
"Good stuff?" Dean flopped onto the couch, plopping his feet on the coffee table.
"No. It's either irrelevant or very, very bad." I was massaging my sore neck absently.
"Great." His tone was dry. He took a swig of his beer. "That hurt?"
I nodded, never taking my eyes off the paper. I didn't see Dean approach, but suddenly he was behind me, his hands tentatively brushing the bruises on my neck with increasing pressure, slowly massaging the ache away. My eyes slid shut and I leaned my head back. I knew it was a bad idea to let him anywhere near me, what with the whole not having anything resembling good judgment when he's around, but it felt VERY nice.
His hands grew more bold, sliding down my arms and up again, making me shiver. Occasionally, I felt his fingertips tracing the bruises on my neck, and when his fingers reached my back and collar bone he applied more pressure, pressing me back into the chair. My head was resting on his abs and I couldn't hold back a little moan as my body relaxed. Dean must have taken this as some sort of invitation, because his hands moved over my shoulders and down to my chest. I felt his finger tips brush the crest at the top of my breasts. I felt the tell tale tingle blooming in my center, and my eyes flew open. I laid my hand on Dean's bringing his movements to a stop.
"Dean-"
"About Kirsti-" He had stopped rubbing, but hadn't moved his hands.
"Don't, Dean." I didn't want to hear about him and Kirsti right now. Or ever, for that matter. I just knew that I had to keep my head and stay sane.
Dean sighed heavily and returned to the couch.
I couldn't focus on the papers in front of me, but that didn't stop me from staring at them the rest of the afternoon.