Losing Hope | {BOOK 4}

75| Nazi Nutjobs

After working a couple cases, my mom decided she needed to head out on her own for a little while. Maddie and Zep had gone back to hanging out at Josh and Lucy's house with Connor and Libby while attending school and it was really quiet in the Bunker with just me, Sam and Dean. They were both kind of walking on eggshells around me since my mom took off and it was starting to get on my nerves.

"Ellie, we should really-"

"I found something," I cut Dean off, turning my computer so he and Sam could see. "Happened last night."

Dean continued to stare at me while Sam read the screen.

"Killed in Mystery Fire," he read out loud.

"Mm-hm," I nodded, ignoring Dean's look.

"Mystery fire?"

"Yeah, the kind that doesn't burn anything but the bodies."

"So spontaneous combustion," Sam clicked his tongue. "What are you thinking? Uh, witch? Dragon?"

"Maybe. Check it out. The old lady? Loaded. I'm talking Scrooge McDuck swimming in pools of money. So what's a lady like that doing at some crap store at 3 am?"

"Well, it says it was an antique shop."

"So?"

"Uh, rich people like antiquing. I don't know."

"I say we check it out."

"Uh..." Sam glanced over at Dean. "Alright."

"In the meantime, you sure you don't wanna talk about-" Dean tried again.

"No," I cut him off once more.

"Ellie, it's called sublimation."

"Yeah. Yeah, it's my kind of thing."

I stood up, heading off to pack my bag to get ready to go without waiting around for the boys any longer. I knew Dean was right and that we would have to address the topic of my mom leaving eventually, but I was going to avoid it for as long as I possibly could. I had just gotten her back, and to have her insist on going it alone so soon after really did a number on me, even though I refused to admit that fact.

⁘

JUNE 1985

I was sitting in a hard plastic chair in the hospital room. My father sat in the seat beside me, both of us listening to the steady beep of the monitors keeping track of my mother's vitals. The doctors had said she was sick. They hadn't seen anything like it, though. It was like her body had just decided to spontaneously shut down. Dad had brought her favorite nightgown to wear because he knew she hated wearing the hospital gowns.

"Daddy? Is Mama gonna get better?" I asked in a timid voice, looking up at him.

"I don't know, Ellie Bear," he swallowed, looking down at me before looking back at my mom in the bed. "I hope so."

I curled up in the chair, leaning into my father's side and felt him press his lips to the top of my head. I shut my eyes to try and hold the tears at bay, silently praying for some kind of miracle to help my mom get better. I couldn't get the last words I heard my mother say while hiding in the closet out of my head.

'T-they're coming.'

⁘

PRESENT DAY

Sam, Dean and I approached the antique store, observing the yellow police tape pulled across the doors.

"Looks like we missed the cavalry," Sam noted.

"I guess we should go home, then," Dean added.

Ignoring both of them, I ducked under the tape and entered the shop.

"Alright, I'm guessing that is the victim," I nodded at a pile of ash.

"Scrooge McDuck lady?" Dean asked, using my words from earlier.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Hm."

"Which makes this the antiques dealer," Dean took note of a second pile.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Name was Marvin Brickle. Widower. Owned the shop for decades."

"No sulfur," I informed them.

"Ditto EMF," Dean put away his silent reader.

"Maybe hex bags?" Sam suggested.

"Yeah, or, uh, you know... antique shop, full of old stuff," I pointed out. "Maybe the guy got his hands on a cursed object... and it went haywire, started killing everybody."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Dean agreed.

"Right," Sam nodded, tapping away at Brickle's computer.

Dean followed me upstairs and I whirled around as there was a crash- he'd knocked over a boat.

"Dean... babe..."

"Don't say it," he glared at me, fumbling to right the ship.

"May-maybe let's not touch anything until we figure out if this stuff wants to kill us or not?"

"Yeah, I got it," he whispered to himself, turning away and rolling his eyes.

He pushed past me, moving to another part of the store while I continued looking around. Sam was still typing away at the computer on the lower floor.

"Sam, Ellie, I think I found something," Dean called a moment later.

I moved to see what he was looking at as Sam called up to us from downstairs.

"It looks like the victims were meeting about an antique pocket watch the night they died."

"Pocket watch?" I echoed, moving further into the hidden room Dean had found with him.

"Yeah, according to Marv's email list, at least," Sam continued.

I opened another door in the hidden room and both Dean and my eyes widened in surprise.

"Uh, Sam?"

"Yeah, hold up," he said. "Get this- I hacked into Marv's hard drive. It- it looks like he was conducting... an entire underground business catering to, uh..."

"Nazi nutjobs?" Dean guessed.

"Yeah. How'd you know that?"

"Might want to take a look at this," I informed Sam.

"Yeah. What are you, uh..." Sam trailed off as he joined Dean and I, staring around the room filled with Nazi relics. "Oh. That's uh... Wow."

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "Looks like Scrooge McDuck lady got her rocks off by collecting Nazi crap."

"Yeah, guess so," Sam agreed, all of us still slightly shocked. "Uh, according to Marv's ledger, the watch belonged to a member of Hitler's inner circle."

"So where is it now?" I asked.

"I don't know. The police didn't report finding it. And I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess that it's probably not out there and probably not in here."

"Yeah," Dean and I agreed.

"I mean... Nazi connection? The immolation M.O.?" Sam continued. "Sound like anybody we know?"

"The Thule," Dean realized, exhaling sharply.

"Maybe they crashed the party, took the watch, and torched the bystanders," Sam suggested.

"Nazis," Dean scoffed. "I hate these guys."