Hellhound (Supernatural #1)

5: Entering Without Breaking

Missing, adjective.

1. lacking, absent or not found.
2. to go missing; to disappear, to become lost.

***

After school, I went straight to the police station. I was a girl on a mission.

Dad wasn't there, the deputies told me. Apparently, he had gone to the crime scenes again with two other cops, hoping to find some physical evidence they might have missed the first time. And if the rain hadn't washed it away. I prayed they would find something, even though the odds were against them. Maybe they would if they had widened their search area though; that might increase their chances of finding something. Still, I was doubtful. If the killer had left no trace of themselves, had practically cleaned up after themselves, wouldn't they have made sure that was nothing to be found for miles?

I closed the door to Dad's office and made myself at home. Doing homework at his desk was something I had done for as long as I could remember. It meant he was often around to help me with what I didn't understand, and if he was out, like today, there were plenty of other people to help me. It was the most normal thing in the world to me; this desk had seen more of my homework assignments than my own desk at home had.

However, all the help in the universe wouldn't have allowed me to finish my homework that day.

I couldn't focus, my thoughts finding Tate a much more interesting subject than algebra - anything was more interesting than algebra. There was something about the way he had acted today that didn't sit well with me. That morning he had been his usual cheerful self until Devin had appeared. After that, it was like he was elsewhere with his thoughts like he had left his body behind to go through the motions while he was off fighting bad guys on some distant planet or whatever. At the end of our lunch hour, I had kicked him in the leg before he noticed he needed to go to class. He had been so preoccupied with something all day. It had to be related to his conversation with Devin since it was after that that he had started acting all weird.

During last period English, I had tried to engage him in a conversation but he had shot me down before I could even start. Something was off. Had it been anyone else, I wouldn't even have bothered wasting so much time thinking about it. In fact, I would have shrugged and focused my attention on something else - like the algebra formulas in front of me perhaps, hint hint. But, for some reason, I couldn't do that with Tate.

Finally, with a sigh, I pushed my chair back and ventured out of Dad's office. With the bits of change I had in my pocket, I went to the vending machine to get myself a soda can. I watched the string turn and turn and stop right before the soda can would drop. That was my cue to hit the side of the machine and watch as the can fell the rest of the way. It was universally known that the vending machine needed a good hit on the side if you wanted anything to come out. If you were lucky, you hit might dislodge some other snacks in the process.

As I opened the can and took my first gulp, I looked around the station to see who was there. Who was the least likely to tell Dad about what I was going to ask? Emily would definitely tell; she and Gabriel were two of the few deputies that I didn't like. They would surely tell Dad to keep him happy and informed, which, in their minds, would get them closer to a promotion. That left only three other deputies. Of those, Mason was also out of the running because I had asked him for a favor not too long ago.

My eyes wandered to Jessica who was on the phone and then to Wayne who was just clicking his mouse lazily. He was probably playing Solitaire. Which meant he had nothing to do, which was surprising with two unsolved murder cases. A little hesitant, and not wanting to be too obvious in front of the others, I went over to Wayne's desk. When I was behind him, my suspicions were confirmed; he was indeed playing Solitaire.