Mute 𖤐 Sam Winchester

NINETEEN

"SO, he gave you a big ass cross, that was it?"

"Yeah, pretty much." Sam said. "Can't even tell if it's real—"

"Hold on, if this was some heiress and she was bangin' Bobby, it's gotta be real, all right?" Dean said. "We're gonna find out."

"What do you mean it's not real?" Dean shouted at the clerk. He observed the cross with his oversized magnifying glass.

"The old bag was rollin' in it."
"Well, it looks like the old bag has a soft spot for fake rubies and cubic zirconium."

Dean groaned.

"This is interesting, though." He said, lifting a small piece. "It's a key."

Sam examined it before looking at Dean. "It's a key to what?"

"There's one way to find out. Ask Jeeves."

Joyce tossed her head back dramatically and rolled her eyes.

"What's wrong, Joyce, you don't like the sisters hands all over Sam?" Dean asked as Sam exited the shop first. She sent Dean a look, noticing the large smile on his face. She signed and mouthed the words: "Bite me".

"That's Sammy's job."

Joyce shoved her hands against his shoulders to push him out the door.

When they arrived back to the LaCroixs, there were still several cars in the lot, including a police vehicle. Sam and Dean looked at each other.

"What's wrong?" Joyce asked as they climbed out of the car.

"Something is off." Sam said as they walked towards the door.

"I could've told you that earlier today."

Dean rang the doorbell again as Sam sighed. As the door opened, the butler looked at the three, distraught.

"Everything okay?" Dean asked him.

"Not really."

The butler stepped aside and allowed the three in.
"I presume you three left something behind?" He asked. "I'll check the front closet for. . . Burlap."

"I got news for you, Mr. Belvedere. The jacket's canvas."

Another man approached them. "Uh, you three were here earlier?"

"Yeah, who wants to know?" Dean asked.

Joyce stiffened as the man revealed a Police Detective badge on his belt. "Detective Howard, New Canaan P.D. Congratulations, you three. You're now officially murder suspects."

Joyce blinked. "Who died?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Dean asked.
"Bunny LaCroix's brother Stanton was killed this evening. His body's just gone to the morgue."

"And you think—"
"I don't know what to think. And that's why you three and everyone else who stepped foot in this house today is being detained for questioning."

Joyce crossed her arms over her chest as he ushered them towards the living-room. Sam, Dean and Joyce walked down the hallway, and when Joyce glanced back, the detective was still watching them.

"It's so obvious she's guilty."
"You're off your rocker, old lady." Dash spat.

"Old lady? I—"

When she noticed Sam and Dean enter the room, she laughed it off. "I'm thirty-nine."
"And you have been since '03."

Joyce bit her lip to stop a smile from forming on her face.

"How dare you?"

Sam stepped in. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but who's guilty?"