A Torn Family

Chapter 17

"Not a single decent lead in all of Nebraska." Dean folded up the newspaper he had been reading. "What've you guys got?"

"Well, I've been scouting Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota." Sam clicked a few times on the keypad of his computer. "I've got nothing so far. I'll keep looking."

"I have some mighty fine french toast." I answered Dean with my fork in my hand. "You guys, people usually eat when they sit down in restaurants."

"Here, a woman in Iowa fell 10,000 feet from an airplane and survived." Sam read off his computer, completely ignoring me.

"That sounds more like 'that's incredible' than 'the twilight zone'." Dean responded, stealing a forkful of my food and quickly eating it. His eyes widened, and he returned for more, but I slapped his fork away.

"Yeah." Sam sighed.

"We could just keep heading East." Dean suggested, eyeing my food. "New York, Upstate. Could stop by and see Sarah again. She's a cool chick, man. You two seemed pretty friendly, what do you say?"

"Yeah, I don't know." Sam grinned at the memory of Sarah. "Maybe someday. But in the meantime, we've got a lot of work to do."

"Whatever." I groaned. "You got anything else?"

"There was a guy in Colorado." Sam looked back down at his computer. "Local man by the name of Daniel Elkins was found mauled in his home."

"Elkins..." Dean put the prongs of his fork between his teeth. "I know that name."

"Doesn't ring a bell." Sam answered. "Sounds like the cops don't know what to think. At first they thought it was a bear attack or something, but now they found signs of a robbery."

"Dean?" I asked, but he shushed me. He quickly grabbed Dad's notebook and began leafing through it.

"Here, check it out." Dean stopped on a page, turning it so Sam and I could read it. "D. Elkins. He's a contact in Dad's journal."

"You think it's the same Elkins?" I asked.

"Colorado area code." Dean looked at us. "Right next to his name. Jesus."

"Well, I guess we're off to Colorado then." I wiped my mouth, and pushed the two leftover pieces of french toast to the side of my plate.

"Not yet, we're not." Dean held out a hand. "First, I'm gonna finish your breakfast. There are people that are starving, Luce. We're not wasting food."

***

We arrived at Daniel Elkins house, a rather large place with no nearby neighbors. We grabbed our flashlights, holstered our guns, and made our way up to the door. I kneeled down, quickly picked the lock, and the boys shone their flashlights inside once the door swung open. Sam and Dean wandered inside, quietly checking out the house, but I stayed at the front door, kneeling to touch the welcome mat.

"Looks like the maid didn't come today." Dean joked as he turned into an open doorway.

"Guys..." I rubbed my fingers together, feeling the grainy substance fall from my hands. "Guys there's salt over here. Right inside the door."

"You mean, like, protection-against-demon salt or oops-I spilled-the-popcorn salt?" Dean asked from inside, and I rolled my eyes.

"It's clearly a ring, you moron."

"Well clearly, it's not that clear." Dean snapped back.

"You think this guy, Elkins, was a player?" I heard Sam call.

"Definitely." Came Dean's reply. Something in his tone made me stand up and follow his voice. Apparently, Sam had the same idea. We walked into the room with Dean, Sam looking over his shoulder, and me leaning around his arm to see. There was a huge notebook laid out on a table that Dean was reading though.
"It looks a hell of a lot like Dads." Sam voiced what all of us were thinking.