A Torn Family

Chapter 15

Yet again, we had stopped at a bar. Dean had banned me from alcohol after the kidnapping thing, so that sucked a little. Sam was researching, I swear he never stopped, and Dean was flirting with a girl who I believe was named after a drink. Brandi, or Margarita, something like that. I couldn't complain much though. The guys at the bar were suckers for a pretty girl, and they were all terrible at pool.
I made $350.

I took a break when Sam beckoned me over. I rolled my eyes, but did as he requested. Dean followed shortly after, shooting glances back at the girl he had been flirting with.

"All right. So, I think I got something." Sam glanced between the two of us and some newspapers laid out on the table in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, me too." Dean sat at the table.

"Same here." I fanned out my winnings for the boys to see.

Dean whistled, high fiving me. "I think we need to take a little shore leave. For just a little bit, don't you think? I'm so in the door with this one, here."

"So, what are we today?" Sam rolled his eyes at us, clearly annoyed. "Are we rock stars? Are we army rangers? What's our story?"

"We're LA tv scouts looking for people with special skills." Dean laughed, glancing back at the alcoholic girl at the bar. "But hey, it's not that far off, right? By the way, she says she's got a friend. I can probably hook you up, what do you think?"

"No thanks, I can get my own dates." Sam scoffed at Dean's offer.

"You can, but you don't." Dean shot back.

"It's cool, Dean." I nodded. "I'll chill with Sam, I'm trying to stop with the one night stand thing."

"You've never had a one night stand."

"C'mon, Dean. We both kno-"

"Shut up, Lucy." Dean pointed at me, before turning back to Sam. "And Sam, that was not the point."

"What was the point, Dean?" Sam asked. "What was that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Dean hesitated. "What have you got?"

"Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York." Sam sighed, reading off the newspapers. "They were both found dead in their home just a few days ago."

"Mmhmm."

"Throats were slit, there were no prints, no weapons, no- guys?" We both looked back to Sam, me from the pool table and Dean from the bar chick. "No prints, no murder weapon, all doors and windows were locked from the inside."

"Could be a garden-variety murder." I offered.

"Yeah." Dean pointed to me. "Not our department."

"No, Dad says different." Sam held up a finger, spinning Dad's notebook so we could read it. "Look. Dad noted three murders in the same area up upstate New York. First one, right here, 1912. The second one in 1945, and the third in 1970. The same MO as the Telescas- throats were slit and the houses were locked from the inside. Now, so much time passed between the murders that nobody checked the pattern, except for Dad."

"Great." I rolled my eyes.

"Shut up." Sam said, before continuing. "Dad always kept his eyes peeled for another one."

"And now we've got one." Dean finished.

"Exactly."

"Sooo... this means we're not taking a break?"

"I guess so." Dean glanced at me. "Alright, I'm with you. It's worth checking out."

"Dammit." I grumbled. "There's a new group of guys at the table. I was looking to double my earnings."