The Winchester Code

Chapter 12 - Karen

Karen

Chapter 12

“Don’t worry!” Zai assures us. “Gee wiz! What do you think I’m gonna do? Run off with a neon sign saying ‘here I am! Come kill me!’?”
“The demons can’t get past the salt line.” Dean says as he lines the windows. “Line the door when we leave.”
“Ok.” She says, rolling her eyes. I stretch out my arms trying to readjust my jacket. I pull at the knot in my tie.
“Right. Let’s go.” Dean pulls on his jacket. He turns to Zai. “Stay here.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“Fuck you, Watson.”
Zai smiles and Dean walks out, me following close behind. I hear Zai close the door and start sprinkling salt along the ground. We had told her not to open the door for anyone. We had also explained to her about the holy water precaution and agreed on a secret knock.

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“So what did you say her name was?” Dean asks as we get in the Impala. His tie isn’t yet knotted and his arms pull at his suit jacket.
“Karen.” I answer, pulling on my seatbelt. The leather seat is welcoming, indented with my body print from years of travel.
“Right, and what’s our cover?” My brother shoves his keys in the ignition and the engine purrs as he pulls out the parking lot.
“Electric company people?”
“Sounds good. So…” The mood shifts as Dean looks at me. “You’ve been having nightmares.”
“Dean…”
“Sam, come on, I’ve heard it. I’ve heard you talking – yelling – in your sleep.”
“Please drop it.” I ask. In truth, I’ve been sleeping better now than I had been. Lucifer has cut back on his visits.
“Sammy, you’re –”
“Turn left here.” I demand, cutting him off. He swings the car around the corner as I scan the roads. “This street.” I point. He turns obediently. “Thirty-six, thirty-four, thirty-two… twenty-eight. There!”
Dean pulls up and turns off the engine. He takes a minute to tie his tie. I readjust my own as well.
The house. Two stories, red-brick walls; there’s a small porch and a dark stained door. I nudge my brother, pointing to the blue stated roof. “Solar panels.”
“Awesome.” He says slowly. We walk together to the porch and Dean knocks on the door. I stand behind him looking around. The street is full of old-style houses. Most have been recently remodelled, each fitted with solar panels and gas tanks.
“Uh…” A woman says as she opens the door. “Hi.”
She is wearing a fluffy pink dressing gown and a white towel is wrapped around her head.
“Karen?” Dean asks. The woman looks at him offensively.
“Jackson.” I hiss. “Mrs Jackson.”
“Miss.” She corrects, crossing her arms. She shifts her wait on one leg and pushes her hip out, obviously not enthralled by our first impressions. “What are you doing here?”
“Miss Jackson.” Dean says, sick of the word banter. “My name is Carter. This is my associate, uh, Green. We’re from the solar company.”
“Uh-huh.” She doesn’t move.
“We’re doing a product inspection.”
“Why?”
Customer satisfaction.” I jump in.
She stares at us a little longer, looking us over, as if trying to decide something. “Fine. Come in.” She steps aside, eyeing me. I nod as I pass her. She leads us to the kitchen. It looks just like I remember. The walls are lemon yellow and a big window lets in a fountain of light. A small table is shoved in the corner, cluttered with colourful paper and crayons. Her fridge is filled with photos and notices, and pictures, the same style as the ones that are half completed sitting on the table.
“Well, there’s a thing on my computer that monitors the energy input, or something.” Karen shrugs.
“Where is it?” I ask. Computers are something that I know – unlike solar panels.
She blushes and crosses her arms again. “In the living room. I ah…” She turns around and walks out the kitchen, beckoning me to follow her. She walks down the narrow hall, lined with even more photos than I remember.
“Here it is.” She says, guiding me to the couch. Her laptop sits on the coffee table. She opens the lid and it flashes to life. Her desktop background is a picture of her and two other women. It looks like they are in a nightclub, all of them with sparkly eyes and glittery hair.
She clicks a couple of times and connects to the internet. She opens up a webpage for a solar power company and stands back.
“Ok.” She says, presenting me the laptop. “Um, please excuse me.”
I nod and she walks past me, brushing her arm against mine as she leaves.
I sit on the sofa and pull the computer onto my lap, searching the site for an FAQ so I have at least a smidgen of an idea as to what a solar power company inspector guy would say.
She comes back a couple of minutes later wearing tight blue jeans and a strapless shirt that shows off her collar bone. Her eyes have been ringed with brown eyeliner and her lips shine with gloss.
“Found anything?” She asks, speaking slowly.
“Uh,” I say, clicking to a random chart. “Yeah.”
She walks slowly to the couch and sits next to me. “Whatchya got?”
“Well Miss Jackson,” I start.
“Please, call me Karen.”
“Karen.” I amend. “You’re system isn’t operating at its maximum capacity.” She gives me a sideways glace. “Don’t worry, I can fix it.”
“How much?” She sighs, dropping her head.
“What?” I ask, a little surprised. “Nothing. Free.”
She looks at me incredulously. “Free?”
“Yes.” I shut the laptop lid and place it back on the table. “But I won’t be able to do it now.”
“Oh?”
“I can do it electronically, but I don’t have the programs with me at the moment.”
“So when will you have it?” She asks, standing up.
The date… What was the date on that calendar?
“I’ll be back on the twelfth.”
“The day after next?”
“Yes.”
She puts her hands on her hips and turns away. “Is there possibly another day that you could do it?”
“Sorry Karen.” I tell her. “Booked tomorrow, then we’ll be travelling the thirteenth.”
“Can someone else…” She trails off and turns to face me again. I give her a sympathetic look. She drops her hands again and sighs. “Ok. Just be here before five.”
I chuckle as I stand. “Alright.”
She leads me out of the living room and back to the kitchen where Dean jumps to attention when he hears us walk in.
“Would you like a snack or a drink while you’re here?”
Oh, no. We should –”
“Yes.” Dean says over top of me. He gives me a quick look as Karen smiles. “I would love a coffee.”
“Of course, and you, ah…”
“Sam.” Dean answers for me. I stare at Dean, still trying to interpret what he was trying to tell me.
Miss Jackson gently touches my arm. “Sam?” She asks, holding a coffee pot. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“Uh, yeah.” I answer, “Just a coffee. Two sugars.”
“Alright.” She smiles. I look back at Dean, who is now smiling like a loon. I can feel my brow crease. What the hell is so funny?