One More Time

38.

"And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her-- her eyes... they were gone."

"I'm sorry," I sigh, rubbing her back soothingly.

"And she said it. I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?"

"No, you're not insane," I shake my head.

"Oh, God, that makes me feel so much worse."

"Look... we think something's happening here, something that can't be explained. And we're gonna stop it, but we could use your help," I admit.

~ ~ ~

She slides the window up, and we quietly step in into her bedroom. "What did you tell Jill's Mom," I ask.

"I just said I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things," Charlie answers. "I hate lying to her," she adds, as Dean closes the curtains.

"Trust us, this is for the greater good," Dean assures her. "Hit the lights."

"What are you guys looking," Charlie asks after turning off the lights.

"We'll let you know as soon as we find it," I answer.

"Hey, night vision," Sam says. I hit the button for him. "Thanks."

"Do I look like Paris Hilton," he questions making me roll my eyes.

"I hate you," I shake my head. Sam walks over to the closet, opening one of the doors.

"So, I don't get it. I mean, the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?"

"Beats me," Dean shrugs.

"I wanna know why Jill said it in the first place," I admit.

"It's just a joke."

"Yeah, well, somebody's gonna say it again. It's just a matter of time."

"Hey," Sam says making us look back. "There's a black light in the trunk, right?"

After Dean retrieves the black light, he shuts the window and curtains again, tossing it to Sam. Sam rips the paper off the back of the mirror, before turning on the black light. I see a handprint on the back of it, along with the name "Gary Bryman."

"Gary Bryman?"

"You know who that is," Sam questions her.

"No," she shakes her head.

~ ~ ~

"So, Gary Bryman was an eight-year-old boy. Two years ago, he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry, and nobody got the plates or saw the driver," Sam says.

"Oh, my God."

"What," I ask.

"Jill drove that car."

"We need to get back to your friend Donna's house.

~ ~ ~

After scanning the back of the mirror, we found a handprint and the name "Linda Shoemaker" on the back of it. "Why are you asking me all this," Donna asks.

"Look, we're sorry, but it's important," I sigh.

"Yeah. Linda's my mom, okay? She overdosed on sleeping pills. It was an accident, and that's it. I think you should leave."

"Donna, just listen--"

"Get out of my house," Donna exclaims, rushing past us.

"Oh, my God. Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?"

"Maybe."

"I think I should stick around."

"All right, whatever you do, don't--"

"Believe me, I won't say it."