You Can't Leave Me (Dean Winchester Love Story Book 3)

Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Well, I was out on a drive, on a bit of a trip
Looking for thrills to get me some kicks
Now, I warn you ladies, I shoot from the hip
I was born with a stiff, stiff upper lip

Stiff Upper Lip by AC/DC

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I walk across the city square toward Dean who is sitting on a bench. "Yep. I got it Sam. Okay, bye." Dean says and I see him hang up the phone and he throws me a can of soda, then he stands and shoves the last of the food he is eating into his mouth. "So?" Dean asks as he chews. "So, the professor doesn't know shit." I sigh. "Shocking. Pack your panties, Skye, we're hitting the road." He says. "What? What's up?" I ask.

"That was Sam. Some banker guy blew his head off in Ohio and he thinks there's a spirit involved." Dean says. "So you two were talking a case?" I ask. "No, we were actually talking about our feelings. And then our favorite boy bands. Yeah, we were talking a case." Dean says. I roll my eyes. "So a spirit, what?" I ask. "Yeah, the banker was talking about some sort of electrical problems at his pad for like a week. The phone was going haywire, the computer was flipping on and off." He says. "Huh." I say.

"This is not ringing your bell?" Dean asks. "Well, sure, yeah. But, Dean, we're already on a case." I say. "Whose?" Dean asks. "Yours." I say, putting my hands on hips. "Right. Yeah. Well, you coulda fooled me." He says. "What the hell else have we been doing lately other than trying to break your deal?" I ask. "Chasing our tails, that's what. Skye, we've talked to every professor, witch, soothsayer and two-bit carny act in the lower 48. Nobody knows shit! And we can't find Bela, we can't find the Colt. So, until we actually find something, I'd like to do my job." He says.

"Well, there's one thing we haven't tried yet..." Dean cuts me off. "Skye no." "We should summon Ruby." I say. "I'm not going to have this fight with you." He says. "She said she knows how to save you." I say. I groan a little as my stomach starts to feel sick. Not again. I cover my mouth and take deep breaths. "Feeling sick?" Dean asks. "I'm fine." I say. "Skye this is the fifth morning in a row that you have been feeling like this." Dean says. "Dean don't change the topic." I say. "Well, she can't" He sighs.

"Oh really, you know that for sure?" I ask. "I do." He says. "How?" I ask. "Because she told me, okay!" He yells. "What?" I ask. "She told me. Flat out. She can't save me, nobody can." He says. No, he is lying.

"And you just somehow neglected to mention this to me?" I ask. "Well, I really don't care what that bitch thinks and neither should you, so..." Dean trails off. "So what, now you're keeping secrets from me, Dean?" I ask. "You really wanna talk about who's keeping secrets from who?" He asks as his eyes go to my stomach then he looks back into my eyes. I shake my head and turn away. "Now where you going?" He asks. "Guess I'm going to Ohio." I say.

~FEW DAYS LATER~

"I found him there." Mrs. Waters points to where she found her dead husband. "Why don't you tell us everything you saw, Mrs. Waters." I ask. "You mean besides my dead husband?" She asks. "Just everything else you saw. Please." I say.

"Blood. Everything. The phone was ripped from the wall, his favorite scotch on the desk, what else could you possibly want to know." She sighs. "Why was the phone ripped from the wall?" Dean asks. "I don't know." She says. "You mind if I take a look?" I ask. "I already went over this with the other detectives." She says. "We'll be out of your hair in no time, ma'am." Dean says.

I walk over to the phone and press a few buttons. "Ma'am, what time did your husband die?" I ask. "Sometime after 11." She sighs and I wait until Dean looks at me, then I tap the phone display. "What about strange phone calls? Receive any of those lately, weird interference, static, anything like that?" Dean asks. "No." She says defensively. I raise my eyebrow at her. "No!" She yells.

"Mrs. Waters, withholding information from the police is a capital offence." Dean says. I clear my throat causing Dean to glance at me and I glare at him. "In some parts of the world, I'm sure." Dean says under his breath. "A couple of weeks ago, uh...there was this..." She trails off. "This what?" Dean asks. "I woke up one morning, I heard Ben in his study. I thought he was talking to a woman." She says. "What made you think that?" I ask.

"Because he kept calling her Linda. The thing is, I picked up the other line and nobody was there, Ben was talking to nobody." She says. "There was nothing?" I ask. "Just static." She says. "Did you ever speak to Ben about this phone call?" I ask. "No. I should have but...no." I say. "Did he ever say who Linda was?" I ask. "What difference does it make, there was nobody on the other end!" She yells, getting upset.

~MOTEL~

"Linda's a babe. Or, was." Dean says and I roll my eyes as I eat a hamburger. "Did you find her?" I ask. "Yeah, Linda Bateman. She and Ben Waters were high school sweethearts." Dean says.

"So what happened?" I ask as I started eating my third burger. "Drunk driver hit them head on. Ben walked away." He says. "So, what then? Dead flame calls to chat?" I ask. "You would think, but Linda was cremated. So, why's she still floating around?" He asks. "You got me." I say. "What about that, uh, caller I.D?" Dean asks. "Turns out, it's a phone number." I say.

"No phone number I've ever seen." He says. "Yeah, cause it's about a century old, back from when phones had cranks." I say, eating. "So why use that number to reach out and touch someone." Dean says. "Got me there too, but we should put a trace on it." I say. "Well, how the hell are we going to put a trace on something that's over 100 years old?" Dean asks. "No idea." I say and set down my burger and run to the bathroom to get sick.