19.

52 2 0
                                    

"Can I get you anything else," the waitress questions making Dean smile.

"Just the check, please," Sam answers.

"Okay." She walks off, and Dean glares at Sam.

"You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while," Dean points out, looking at the waitress. "That's fun." He's silent, as he stares back at him. "Here, take a look at this. I think I got one," he says, showing him the newspaper. "Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin-- Last week, Sophie Carlton, 18, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water-- nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found, either. They had a funeral two days ago," Dean explains.

"A funeral," I question.

"Yeah, it's weird. They buried an empty coffin for closure or whatever."

"Closure? What closure," Sam says. "People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them."

"Something you want to say to me," Dean asks.

"The trail for Dad-- it's getting colder every day," Sam points out.

"Exactly. What are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know. Something. Anything."

"You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?"

"Yeah, I know you do. It's just--"

"I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there, okay?" Sam sighs when the waitress passes by us.

"All right, Lake Manitoc. Hey."

"Huh?"

"How far?"

*Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin*

Dean knocks on the door, and a guy answers it. "Will Carlton?"

"Yeah, that's right," he nods.

"I'm Agent Ford. This is Agent Hamill and Agent Smith. We're with the U.S. Wildlife Service," Dean says.

We exchange a few more words, before he leads out to the backyard. "She was about 100 yards out. That's where she got dragged down," Will explains.

"And you're sure she didn't just drown," Dean questions.

"No. She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up that in lake. She's as safe out there as in her own bathtub," he shakes his head.

"So no splashing, no signs of distress," Sam asks.

"No, that's what I'm telling you."

"Did you see any shadows in the water, maybe some dark shape breach the surface," I ask.

"No, again, she was really far out there."

"You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline," Dean questions.

"No, never. Why? What do you think's out there?"

"We'll let you know as soon as we do," Dean replies, walking off.

"What about your father," I ask, not moving. "Can we talk to him?" Will glances back at him, sighing.

"Look, if you don't mind, I mean, he didn't see anything, and he's kind of been through a lot," he says.

"We understand. I'm sorry for your loss," I nod.

*at the police station*

"Now, I'm sorry, but why does the wildlife service care about an accidental drowning," the officer questions, allowing us through behind the desk.

"You sure it's accidental? Will Carlton saw something grab his sister," Sam says.

"Like what? Here, sit, please," he says, as we walk into his office. "There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake. There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness Monster."

"Yeah, right," Dean chuckles.

"Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still, we dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep just to be sure, and there was nothing down there."

"That's weird, though. That's the third missing body this year," I point out.

"I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about," he sighs.

"I know," I nod.

"Anyway... all this-- it won't be a problem much longer," he admits.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the dam, of course."

"Of course. The dam. It's, uh... It spring a leak," Dean says.

"It's falling apart, and the Feds won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either, but as federal wildlife, you already knew that."

"Exactly."

There's a knock at the door. "Sorry, am I interrupting?" We stand up, facing her. "I can come back later."

"Gentleman and lady, this is my daughter."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dean," Dean says, holding out his hand.

"Andrea Bar. Hi," she smiles, shaking his hand.

"Hi."

"They're from the wildlife service about the lake."

"Oh." A kid steps out from behind her.

"Oh, hey there. What's your name?" He turns away from Dean, walking off. She follows him out.

"His name is Lucas."

"Is he okay," I ask.

"My grandson's been through a lot. We all have. Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know."

"Thanks. You know, now that you mentioned it, can you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?"

"Lakefront Motel-- Go around the corner, it's two blocks up."

"Two-- Would you mind showing us?"

"You want me to walk you two blocks," Andrea chuckles.

"Not if it's any trouble."

"I'm headed that way anyway," she nods looking at her dad. "I'll be back to pick up Lucas at 3:00. We'll go to the park, okay, sweetie?"

One More TimeWhere stories live. Discover now