Living with Dean and Sam.

Chapter Twenty-Seven:

We stood downstairs with Donna, who seemed confused and slightly agitated.

"Why are you asking me this?" Donna asked.

"Look, we're sorry, but it's important." Sam insisted. She just gave us an annoyed look. We were treading on thin ice, very thin ice.

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

"Now, Donna, just listen." Dean tried.

"Get out of my house!" she shouted running off up the stairs.

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

"Maybe." Sam muttered.

"I think I should stick around." She added.

"All right. Whatever you do, don't-" Dean started.

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

***********

I was laying on the bed in the motel room, Sam was looking at the bulletin board and Dean was on the computer.

"Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?" Sam asked.

"Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database- at this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me." Dean replied.

"But if she's haunting the town, she should've died in the town." Sam insisted.

"Not necessarily, she could've died in another town, an object could have been moved, moving her here. Believe me, it's been done." I interjected.

"I'm telling you there's nothing local, we've checked. So unless you got a better idea-"

"The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern." Sam concluded.

"I know, I was thinking the same thing." Dean added.

"With mister Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run."

"Both had secrets where people died." I decided.

"Right. I mean there's a lot of folklore about mirrors- that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break them." Sam says.

"Right, right. So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it." I added.

"Whether you've summoned her or not."

"Take a look at this." Dean has a picture of a woman lying by a mirror, in a pool of blood. Dean prints out another and hands it to Sam.

"Looks like the same handprint." He finished.

"Her name was Mary Worthington- an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana."

"That's gotta be her." I muttered.

***********

The detective agency, seemed happy to answer our questions, we were in the office talking to one of the detectives.

"I was on the job for 35 years- detective for most of that. Now everybody packs it in with a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder- that one still gets me." he explained.

"What exactly happened?" Dean asked.

"You said you were reporters?"

"We know Mary was 19, lived by herself. We know she won a few beauty contests, dreamt of getting out of Indian, being an actress. And we know the night of March 29th someone broke into her apartment and murdered her, cut out her eyes with a knife." I explained.

"That's right." The detective replied, I smiled.

"See sir, when we asked you what happened, we wanted to know what you think happened." Sam added. The detective pulled some old files out of a filing cabinet.

"Technically I'm not supposed to have a copy of this." He opened the file to the picture we found on the computer. "Now see there? T- R- E?" we nodded.

"Yeah." Dean mutters.

"I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer." I had a small smirk on my face, this detective was good. Better than others I had met.

"You know who it was?" Sam asked

"Not for sure. But there was a local man, a surgeon- Trevor Sampson." He pulled out a picture of the man. "And I think he cut her up for good."

"Now why would he do something like that?" Sam asked.

"Her diary mentioned a man she was seeing. She called him by his initial 'T'. Well her last entry, she was gonna tell 'T's wife about their affair."