Supernatural... But Better (Vol. I)

Chapter Twelve

"You're sure this is okay?"

Dean shrugged, with a confident look that only a liar could have. "Yeah. I am an officer of the law."

We walked up to the house, him in the lead, me bringing up the rear of the group. It was the best vantage point, in my opinion. You couldn't necessarily see everything, but you could see everyone.

The brothers walked in the back door, ducking around the police tape to get inside. Rebecca stopped at the top step, looking around, but making no move to go in.

Sam looked back at her, face etched in concern. "Beck, you wanna wait outside?"

With a deep breath, she shook her head. "No. I wanna help."

As she followed them inside, I finally caught a glimpse of what had her so spooked. The entire room was covered in blood, from the floor to the ceiling. If you weren't used to it — if it was the blood of someone you knew — it would be a very scary thing to see. Fortunately, for us hunters, it wasn't all that unusual.

"Tell us what else the police said," Sam asked.

Her voice shaky, she obliged. "Well, there's no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers— they're already talking about plea bargain—" Becky looked around the room, tears welling in her eyes. "Oh, God...."

"Look, Beck," he called gently, trying to keep her attention on him and not on the carnage. "If Zach didn't do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?"

She shook her head, then slowly nodded. "Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes — Zach's clothes. The police— they don't think it's anything. I mean, we're not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed."

After another moment of looking around, the brothers seemed to mutually decide it was time to go. Dean opened the back door again, which immediately caused the dog next door to start barking.

Loudly.

Becky walked up next to him. "You know, that used to be the sweetest dog."

"What happened?" Dean asked.

She shrugged. "He just changed."

"Do you remember when he changed?" he pressed further.

I could see her thinking about it. "I guess around the time of the murder."

Sam came up behind me. "What do you think?"

I knew he was asking me about the crime scene, about Becky, about Zach's guilt, about Dean's belief that all of it was still stupid— all of it at once, trying to get my take on it, but I had little to give. "I think you were right in bringing us here. I think something's wrong."

Dean walked over to us. "So, the neighbor's dog went psycho right around the time Zach's girlfriend was killed."

"Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal," Sam pointed out.

"Yeah, maybe Fido saw something," he said, and I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

Sam gave him a look. "So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?"

His brother thought about it. "No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure."

Victorious once more, Sam nodded. "Yeah."

I glanced over at Becky then, finding her gaze on me. It was stiff, cold, as if she didn't quite like me or something. But that was insane, I'd hardly said two words to her. Shaking my head, I chalked it up to my sleep deprivation. Maybe my instincts really were off. I was feeling much better about my decision not to share them.

She walked over to us, and Dean turned to her. "So, the tape. The security footage— you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, 'cause I just don't have that kind of jurisdiction."

Looking a little sheepish, she nodded. "I've already got it. I didn't wanna say something in front of the cop," she explained, making Dean laugh. "I stole it off the lawyer's desk. I just had to see it for myself."

"Alright," he said, and we all turned to walk out the door.

Once again finding myself in the back, I found myself staring at the dog as we passed. It was barking, but its tail was lowered, not quite all the way, but significantly so. I wondered what it had seen, what it sensed. Clearly, whatever it had been, the dog had been able to figure out it wasn't good.

But dogs had been known to be afraid of truly awful human beings, too, though that was less common than them growling at ghosts in the night. And the way he was still acting afraid of the house....

"Annabeth!"

Clearing the thoughts from my head, I turned upon hearing Sam's voice, following them to the car. I still didn't have any evidence, and therefore, no real answers.