Bonds Broken ~Dean Winchester Love Story~

Night Shifter -- Another One?

~*****~

"So, what's it like-- being an FBI guy?" The woman in a jewelry store flirts with Dean.

"Well, it's dangerous." Dean answers. "You know... and the secrets we got to keep-- oh, countless secrets. But mostly, it's-- it's lonely."

Sam and I exchanged annoyed looks as he continued to flirt. "I so know what you mean." The girl answers.

"Helena was the head buy. She-- she was family, you know?" The store owner sighed softly as he approached Sam and I. "She said it herself every year at the Christmas party. She said we were the only family she had."

"So, there were never any signs that she'd do something like this?" I inquire softly.

"No... still can't believe it, even now." The store owner sighed. "That night, Helena came back to the store after closing, cleaned out all the display cases and the safe. Edgar, our night watchman-- He caught her in the act." I hummed softly as I crossed my hands over my front. "He didn't know what to do. He'd known her for years. He called me at home."

"And that's when she took his gun?" Sam asked.

"She shot him in the face." He gasped softly. "I heard him die... over the phone."

"Any idea what her motive could've been?" Sam continues.

"What motive? It makes no sense. Why steal all those diamonds, all that jewelry and then, what, just dump it somewhere? Just hide it and then go home. And kill her herself..." He breathed softly.

"She killed her self?" I hum.

"The cops said she sat in the bath and dropped the hair dryer. She fried herself. Didn't they tell you?" The store owner asked. "I couldn't even stomach seeing the security footage."

"So, you never saw the footage for yourself, then?" I question.

"The police -- they took all the tapes first thing." He answered softly.

"Of course they did," Dean hummed as he gazed down at a newly acquired number. Sam and I gave him a harsh glare.

~*****~

"This is it," Dean hummed as we pulled up in front of Mr. Resnick's house. "Friggin' cops." Dean complained.

"They're just doing their job, Dean." I mention dryly.

"No, they're doing our job, only they don't know it, so they suck at it." Dean retorted. "Talk to me about this bank."

"Milwaukee National Trust-- it was hit about a month ago," I explain softly.

"Same M.O. as they jewelry store?" Dean inquires.

"Yep. Inside job, longtime employee, the, 'Never In A Million Years' type." Sam adds. "Dude robs the bank, then goes home and supposedly commits suicide."

"Resnick was the security guard on duty?" Dean asks. Ron

"Yeah, he was actually beaten unconscious by the teller who heisted the place." Sam explains.

"Oh god," Dean hisses lightly.

"Yeah." Sam knocks onto the door. "Mr. Resnick! Ronald Resnick."

A light burst on the porch, causing the three of us to wince in surprise. "Son of a--" Dean growled.

A chubby, greasy looking man appeared before the door. "FBI, Mr. Resnick!" I barked as I lowered my head to avoid the glare.

"Let me see the badge!" He ordered. The three of us immediately slammed our badges against the glass. He gazed at them for a moment before speaking. "I already gave my statement to the police."