Back In Business

Chapter 3

They drove to Sam’s place for him to get a bag together and then started their road trip to New Mexico. Two hours into the drive, Dean’s cell phone shrilled at him. Sam saw the smile as Dean read the caller id and answered the phone. “Hey girl . . . Yeah, okay . . . Sure, sounds good. . . I’m with my brother” Dean gave Sam a nod. “ . .Me too. . .Bye.”

The younger Winchester figured the mystery person on the phone was Daniel Foster’s sister. “So when do I get to meet Tonya?”

Dean slipped the phone back into his jacket pocket. “Dude, when do I get to meet Alissa?”

Sam’s mouth gaped open. He had only been seeing Alissa for a couple of months. “How do you know about Alissa?”

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy-I am head of security for Foster Industries—it’s like being omnipotent.” Dean smiled and shook his head at his brother’s dumbstruck expression. “Tell her she better pay that parking ticket.”

“I think when you meet her you may want to leave that out.” Sam replied, figuring they would all plan to have dinner together sooner rather than later. Then it was Sam’s turn to shock his brother. “So Tonya-you and her a little more than buddies with benefits?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Man’s delusional.” The older Winchester focused on the highway before them. “Tonya and I are good.”

Sam shifted in the passenger seat of the Impala. It was strange how even after all this time, his tall frame still felt comfortable in the old Chevy. “She’s okay with this?”

Dean turned his head to look at his brother with a bemused expression. “Sammy, people need help-there’s always going to be some evil in the world. . .”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. His conscience made him feel uncomfortable; made him feel selfish for having a self-preservation streak at this time in his life. He had stopped having visions, they left him once the demon was gone and he was glad, but a lack of visions created a lack of need to hunt. “So you went hunting alone-this whole time?”

Dean turned the music on instead of answering his brother. He remembered that first hunt, alone without Sam. He had gotten a call that someone in Idaho needed help with a poltergeist. He had researched from the road, using his employer’s resources since it was more efficient.

He pulled into the Lazy Rest Motel. Part of the lights on the R were out, so it looked liked the Lazy Pest Motel. It was a quick ‘find-the-bones-and-burn-them’ type of job. Funny how the nasty Casper had put up a fight just as Dean had found the bones. He had gotten a little battered, and figured a stop at the liquor store for some tequila would be he right type of medicine.

Maybe, it had been a mistake—a bottle of tequila, alone, in a hotel room was not a good mix. He closed the door, and slid down the wall. Drinking heavily didn’t stop the tears from falling. With the liquor bottle in one hand and his cell phone in another he thought about drunk dialing Sam.

He began to dial the numbers. He had the area code completed before he caught himself. With a cry he threw the phone across the room.

Standing up, he took another swig of the tequila, and looked at his ragged face in the mirror. He tipped the bottle of tequila down the drain, and reminded himself that he was not alone in the world. He had friends, and that would have to be enough.

“What?” Dean said, returning to the present reality. “Sorry, I was thinking about work. The paying kind, I mean.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sam started. He was genuinely interested in what Dean did for a living. “What are you doing?”

“Someone is embezzling money-have to figure out who it is and then make them pay it back.” Dean summarized Daniel’s assignment. “What’s your case about?”

“We need to determine whether or not Mr. Clinde was acting as an agent for the Nottola Corporation and therefore could his statements be relied on by-”

Dean cut him off. “Sounds just like a Law and Order episode—not.” Dean mocked a yawn.

Sam knew corporate law wasn’t exciting, but he loved the challenge. “I never wanted to go into criminal law. Writing and research and using logic to figure out a problem were always my fortes.”

“Great, well use it to go through the stuff I found out about Rancho De Corrales.” Dean gestured for Sam to look under his seat at the manila folder tucked there. “The Emberto family lived here in the late 1800s. In 1898, the son killed his father's mistress. Dad then shot his wife for starting the trouble. In all the confusion, Dad himself was shot and killed.”

Sam studied one of the photos. “So the spirits of the Embertos are still going at each other?” Sam looked at a photo of the house with the current residents standing on the porch—a regular wholesome family. Sam understood why Dean took this job. “Great fun.”