One
Disappearing Children cont'd
Andrew and Ava Miller were two of the blondest, nicest people Sam and Dean had ever met, but with their daughter missing the last four, almost five days, it was obvious they were both very anxious.
"We'll try not to take up too much of your time," Dean said as they all sat in the living room together. "I spoke with Sheriff Harvey this morning about these kidnapings, and I was hoping you could tell me what you remember about the last time you saw your daughter and the morning you discovered her gone."
The young couple exchanged nervous glances before the mother spoke.
"Well, the last time I saw Anna," Ava said, "she was fine. Perfect really. We were getting her ready for school the next morning. Andrew works at the local attorney's office, so Anna and I walk to school since it's so close. I fixed her lunch and made her a snack. I gave her a bath and put her to bed," she cried softly, and Dean glanced at Sam quickly. Ava cleared her throat, wiping tears from her eyes. "And the next morning, she was gone."
"I'm sorry," Dean said softly. "The police report said you didn't hear anything the night before."
Ava shook her head. "No."
"Did you notice anything different about her room before or after she disappeared?" Sam asked gently.
"No. Nothing. The police didn't find anything either."
"Have you been in your daughter's room since she disappeared?"
Again, she shook her head.
"I hate to ask," Sam said, "but would you mind if I took a look? Maybe a fresh pair of eyes might — "
"Oh, please," Ava begged. "It's upstairs, second on the left."
Sam smiled sympathetically, standing slowly and then making his way upstairs.
Dean immediately began speaking as soon as Sam was gone. "What can you tell me about the days leading up to your daughter's disappearance? Any strange people or animals hanging around your house or the school?"
Ava looked at her husband, and he sighed heavily. "Not that we can think of," he said. "Like we said to the police a few days ago. Do we really have to go through this again? Why don't you just go out there and find our daughter?"
"Mr. Miller, I know you're upset. Believe me , if someone I loved was taken from me, I'd be upset too. But right now, we need to know everything. Anything. Even if you don't think it's relevant. It could be a new teacher at school or a stray dog. Or it could even be something you think you saw but don't believe. So please, if there's anything you can think of. Tell me. I want to find your daughter just as much as you do."
Ava looked at her husband, and together they sighed before she spoke. "Well, there was this one thing."
Sam rounded the banister onto the second floor less than a minute after leaving Dean with the Millers, pulling out his EMF meter and finding Annabeth's room. It was typical of what Sam might expect a six-year-old girl's room to look like. The walls were bright white with pink trim around the boarder of the floor and ceiling. The bed was also pink with white lace. It was still unmade.
Sam looked everywhere for something he thought would indicate if anything had been inside the room. But the EMF was clean. He checked under the bed and along the walls for any sign of blood, but there was none. The window looked like it had been wiped clean, but when Sam lifted the window, he found something that told him exactly what had been inside Annabeth's room. It had been no Changeling or Shtriga. Not even a ghost or a revenant.
Only one thing left behind a sulphuric residue.
Dean was ready to go when Sam came back down from the second floor, and even though Ava and Andrew Miller both had expectant looks on their faces, Sam shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Miller. I couldn't find anything."
She huffed as she held onto her husband, and Dean sighed heavily.
"Thank you for your time," he said gently, reaching for Andrew's hand and then Ava's. "We'll be in touch with you. I promise."
He led the way outside with Sam in tow, and they got to the car before anything else was said.
"So did you find anything?" Dean asked as he and Sam slid into the Impala.
"Sulphuric residue," Sam said conclusively. "It was a Demon. The police probably didn't even know what it was. But no blood or broken glass. The window was unlocked, so it's possible the Demon climbed in, took the girl and left. But — "
"No evidence of a struggle," Dean countered. "So either the kid was asleep or went willingly."
Sam shrugged. "It's possible. What did you find out?"
Dean inhaled deeply. "Well, apparently, about three weeks ago, a new teacher started at the elementary school. Moved here from Wyoming. The Millers said the new teacher came to their house when she came into town and wanted to introduce herself. I just wonder what she told the school about where she's from. I say we go pay her a visit."
"There was a Devil's Gate in Wyoming, Dean," Sam reminded him. "You don't think it's possible that it's a Demon from there, do you?"
"There's only one way to find out," Dean insisted.
"How soon after she started at the school did the first kid disappear?" Sam asked over a notepad.
"Three days."
Though the newest teacher at the elementary school, Helen Quinn, had only been there for three weeks, she seemed to know her classroom's curriculum by heart — knowing exactly when to step away from them to talk to Dean and Sam.
"I've been trying to teach them a new study method," she said of the fifteen first grade students in her class. Her green eyes twinkled as she smiled at her students, and her brown hair glimmered even in the fake light of the school's flourescent fixtures. "Since Annabeth and Lauren disappeared, they've all been a little distracted."
"It's not hard to see why," Sam said glancing around the classroom. "Their classmates are gone. Their parents are worried. Scared their kid's going to be next."
"Right," Dean said, glancing at Sam and silently reigning him in. "Annabeth's parents told us when you moved into the neighborhood that you showed up at their house and talked to their daughter. They thought that was a little strange."
Helen laughed. "I'd just moved into a small town where everyone knew everyone else. I wanted all the parents to know me so when I began teaching their children they could trust me. I didn't want to have any secrets."
Dean again glanced at Sam, seeing him pull out a small silver flask and tilt it up to drink out of it. In a well-practiced move, they elbowed each other at the same time, causing holy water from inside the flask to spew from the mouth and splash onto the teacher. The only reaction she had was to gasp and wipe the remnants of the water away.
"Oh, God! I am so sorry," Sam exclaimed. "I'm such a clutz!" He handed her the flask, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe off the water. As the flask was made out of pure silver, Sam watched for a reaction if she was possessed or maybe a shape-shifter, but nothing happened.
"It's not a problem," she said politely.
Dean tried not to look surprised. "So what exactly are you teaching them?" he asked. "They're six."
Sill smiling, Helen eyed Dean curiously. "You'd be very surprised what they're capable of learning. Their minds are like sponges."
"So what happened to the previous first grade teacher?" Sam asked, replacing his flask. "Did she move away?"
"I think so," Helen said with a slow nod. "They said she gave her notice a couple of weeks before I started. I was looking for a teaching job and put in my resum . Is it strange that she moved away and I started in her place?"
"In the middle of the school year?" Sam commented. "It is a little strange."
Dean glanced at Sam, widening his eyes at his brother even though he said nothing to Sam. Then he looked at Helen. "Thanks for your time," he said smiling and reaching for her hand.
She smiled wider, as if that was possible, meeting him halfway, and Dean nudged Sam on, not speaking until they were around the corner.
"Way to put a lid on it, genius," Dean barked softly.
"Well, it is weird," Sam exclaimed softly.
"Yeah, but you don't have to let her know that! Come on, let's talk to the principal," Dean said, rolling his eyes annoyingly.
After discovering the principal our of his office, Dean simply cut to the chase, flashing his badge at the second middle-aged secretary he'd seen that day and asking for Helen Quinn's employment records and her files from the last three weeks.
"Oh, Helen's a joy," the woman said nervously, looking at Sam and blushing. "Practically a gift from God."
"What makes you say that?" Sam asked.
"Well, when Marilyn left, we didn't know what we were going to do. Helen virtually appeared our of nowhere—excellent resume , perfect references, spotless background. She was almost too good to be true. But those kids took to her like ducks to water. We don't know what we would have done without her, quite honestly."
Sam looked at Dean.
"Is she a saint or something?" Dean asked as the woman handed over the files.
"Oh, I don't know about that," the lady chuckled. "She's just too good to be true."
Dean looked at Sam, and after a few seconds, looked back at the lady. "Thanks," he said with a fake smile.
They left the office slowly, walking out to the car and getting in before they said anything.
"Well, that settles it," Dean said.
When he paused, Sam spoke. "It does? How?"
"Well, this woman shows up out of nowhere at the exact moment their other teacher leaves. Resume , references, background. Virtually our of nowhere. How much you wanna bet Marilyn didn't just leave?"
Sam sighed. "Maybe she was killed," he said gravely.
"And didn't, uh, Helen seem a little happy to you? She didn't even flinch when you spilled Holy Water on her. It was almost like — "
"Like she was expecting it," Sam concluded.
"Do we think she's a Demon?" Dean asked, turning the engine over and pulling out into the street slowly.
"It's possible," Sam agreed.
"And what's the connection to the murder?" Dean wondered.
"There's only one way to find out," Sam huffed.
Disappearing Children cont'd
Andrew and Ava Miller were two of the blondest, nicest people Sam and Dean had ever met, but with their daughter missing the last four, almost five days, it was obvious they were both very anxious.
"We'll try not to take up too much of your time," Dean said as they all sat in the living room together. "I spoke with Sheriff Harvey this morning about these kidnapings, and I was hoping you could tell me what you remember about the last time you saw your daughter and the morning you discovered her gone."
The young couple exchanged nervous glances before the mother spoke.
"Well, the last time I saw Anna," Ava said, "she was fine. Perfect really. We were getting her ready for school the next morning. Andrew works at the local attorney's office, so Anna and I walk to school since it's so close. I fixed her lunch and made her a snack. I gave her a bath and put her to bed," she cried softly, and Dean glanced at Sam quickly. Ava cleared her throat, wiping tears from her eyes. "And the next morning, she was gone."
"I'm sorry," Dean said softly. "The police report said you didn't hear anything the night before."
Ava shook her head. "No."
"Did you notice anything different about her room before or after she disappeared?" Sam asked gently.
"No. Nothing. The police didn't find anything either."
"Have you been in your daughter's room since she disappeared?"
Again, she shook her head.
"I hate to ask," Sam said, "but would you mind if I took a look? Maybe a fresh pair of eyes might — "
"Oh, please," Ava begged. "It's upstairs, second on the left."
Sam smiled sympathetically, standing slowly and then making his way upstairs.
Dean immediately began speaking as soon as Sam was gone. "What can you tell me about the days leading up to your daughter's disappearance? Any strange people or animals hanging around your house or the school?"
Ava looked at her husband, and he sighed heavily. "Not that we can think of," he said. "Like we said to the police a few days ago. Do we really have to go through this again? Why don't you just go out there and find our daughter?"
"Mr. Miller, I know you're upset. Believe me , if someone I loved was taken from me, I'd be upset too. But right now, we need to know everything. Anything. Even if you don't think it's relevant. It could be a new teacher at school or a stray dog. Or it could even be something you think you saw but don't believe. So please, if there's anything you can think of. Tell me. I want to find your daughter just as much as you do."
Ava looked at her husband, and together they sighed before she spoke. "Well, there was this one thing."
Sam rounded the banister onto the second floor less than a minute after leaving Dean with the Millers, pulling out his EMF meter and finding Annabeth's room. It was typical of what Sam might expect a six-year-old girl's room to look like. The walls were bright white with pink trim around the boarder of the floor and ceiling. The bed was also pink with white lace. It was still unmade.
Sam looked everywhere for something he thought would indicate if anything had been inside the room. But the EMF was clean. He checked under the bed and along the walls for any sign of blood, but there was none. The window looked like it had been wiped clean, but when Sam lifted the window, he found something that told him exactly what had been inside Annabeth's room. It had been no Changeling or Shtriga. Not even a ghost or a revenant.
Only one thing left behind a sulphuric residue.
Dean was ready to go when Sam came back down from the second floor, and even though Ava and Andrew Miller both had expectant looks on their faces, Sam shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Miller. I couldn't find anything."
She huffed as she held onto her husband, and Dean sighed heavily.
"Thank you for your time," he said gently, reaching for Andrew's hand and then Ava's. "We'll be in touch with you. I promise."
He led the way outside with Sam in tow, and they got to the car before anything else was said.
"So did you find anything?" Dean asked as he and Sam slid into the Impala.
"Sulphuric residue," Sam said conclusively. "It was a Demon. The police probably didn't even know what it was. But no blood or broken glass. The window was unlocked, so it's possible the Demon climbed in, took the girl and left. But — "
"No evidence of a struggle," Dean countered. "So either the kid was asleep or went willingly."
Sam shrugged. "It's possible. What did you find out?"
Dean inhaled deeply. "Well, apparently, about three weeks ago, a new teacher started at the elementary school. Moved here from Wyoming. The Millers said the new teacher came to their house when she came into town and wanted to introduce herself. I just wonder what she told the school about where she's from. I say we go pay her a visit."
"There was a Devil's Gate in Wyoming, Dean," Sam reminded him. "You don't think it's possible that it's a Demon from there, do you?"
"There's only one way to find out," Dean insisted.
"How soon after she started at the school did the first kid disappear?" Sam asked over a notepad.
"Three days."
Though the newest teacher at the elementary school, Helen Quinn, had only been there for three weeks, she seemed to know her classroom's curriculum by heart — knowing exactly when to step away from them to talk to Dean and Sam.
"I've been trying to teach them a new study method," she said of the fifteen first grade students in her class. Her green eyes twinkled as she smiled at her students, and her brown hair glimmered even in the fake light of the school's flourescent fixtures. "Since Annabeth and Lauren disappeared, they've all been a little distracted."
"It's not hard to see why," Sam said glancing around the classroom. "Their classmates are gone. Their parents are worried. Scared their kid's going to be next."
"Right," Dean said, glancing at Sam and silently reigning him in. "Annabeth's parents told us when you moved into the neighborhood that you showed up at their house and talked to their daughter. They thought that was a little strange."
Helen laughed. "I'd just moved into a small town where everyone knew everyone else. I wanted all the parents to know me so when I began teaching their children they could trust me. I didn't want to have any secrets."
Dean again glanced at Sam, seeing him pull out a small silver flask and tilt it up to drink out of it. In a well-practiced move, they elbowed each other at the same time, causing holy water from inside the flask to spew from the mouth and splash onto the teacher. The only reaction she had was to gasp and wipe the remnants of the water away.
"Oh, God! I am so sorry," Sam exclaimed. "I'm such a clutz!" He handed her the flask, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe off the water. As the flask was made out of pure silver, Sam watched for a reaction if she was possessed or maybe a shape-shifter, but nothing happened.
"It's not a problem," she said politely.
Dean tried not to look surprised. "So what exactly are you teaching them?" he asked. "They're six."
Sill smiling, Helen eyed Dean curiously. "You'd be very surprised what they're capable of learning. Their minds are like sponges."
"So what happened to the previous first grade teacher?" Sam asked, replacing his flask. "Did she move away?"
"I think so," Helen said with a slow nod. "They said she gave her notice a couple of weeks before I started. I was looking for a teaching job and put in my resum . Is it strange that she moved away and I started in her place?"
"In the middle of the school year?" Sam commented. "It is a little strange."
Dean glanced at Sam, widening his eyes at his brother even though he said nothing to Sam. Then he looked at Helen. "Thanks for your time," he said smiling and reaching for her hand.
She smiled wider, as if that was possible, meeting him halfway, and Dean nudged Sam on, not speaking until they were around the corner.
"Way to put a lid on it, genius," Dean barked softly.
"Well, it is weird," Sam exclaimed softly.
"Yeah, but you don't have to let her know that! Come on, let's talk to the principal," Dean said, rolling his eyes annoyingly.
After discovering the principal our of his office, Dean simply cut to the chase, flashing his badge at the second middle-aged secretary he'd seen that day and asking for Helen Quinn's employment records and her files from the last three weeks.
"Oh, Helen's a joy," the woman said nervously, looking at Sam and blushing. "Practically a gift from God."
"What makes you say that?" Sam asked.
"Well, when Marilyn left, we didn't know what we were going to do. Helen virtually appeared our of nowhere—excellent resume , perfect references, spotless background. She was almost too good to be true. But those kids took to her like ducks to water. We don't know what we would have done without her, quite honestly."
Sam looked at Dean.
"Is she a saint or something?" Dean asked as the woman handed over the files.
"Oh, I don't know about that," the lady chuckled. "She's just too good to be true."
Dean looked at Sam, and after a few seconds, looked back at the lady. "Thanks," he said with a fake smile.
They left the office slowly, walking out to the car and getting in before they said anything.
"Well, that settles it," Dean said.
When he paused, Sam spoke. "It does? How?"
"Well, this woman shows up out of nowhere at the exact moment their other teacher leaves. Resume , references, background. Virtually our of nowhere. How much you wanna bet Marilyn didn't just leave?"
Sam sighed. "Maybe she was killed," he said gravely.
"And didn't, uh, Helen seem a little happy to you? She didn't even flinch when you spilled Holy Water on her. It was almost like — "
"Like she was expecting it," Sam concluded.
"Do we think she's a Demon?" Dean asked, turning the engine over and pulling out into the street slowly.
"It's possible," Sam agreed.
"And what's the connection to the murder?" Dean wondered.
"There's only one way to find out," Sam huffed.
