The Master's Tale - When A Stranger Calls, Book 1, Part 8

Chapter 8 - Say Your Prayers

Sam let out a light laugh, shaking his head and turning back to follow after him, "It's not like it's been that long since we've been on a-"

Sam's eyes then stopped on something silver just out of sight underneath the bed when Dean stopped, turning back and narrowing his eyes slightly, "What? You find somethin'?"

Sam kneeled down and reached under the bed, glancing back at Dean and shaking his head, "Maybe?"

The cold metal chain slipped through his fingers as he picked it up, his eyes stopping cold on the heart-shaped locket with one of the angel wings opened to reveal a small ultrasound photo.

Dean's expression fell as he watched the fear grow in Sam's eyes, glancing down at the floor and shaking his head, "Don't worry about her, she's gonna be fine, Sammy. She's a tough cookie, she can handle whatever this is. I'd be surprised if she didn't already make her way out of this and is waiting for us back home."

Sam shook his head, pocketing the necklace and looking back as he stood tall again, "Something's wrong, Dean. I can't explain it, but I think she left this as a warning, or- I don't know, a message? This isn't just shapeshifters we're dealing with..."

Dean looked back, letting out a short breath and shaking his head, "Well, I guess you've been pretty right about this so far? This sure would be a hell of a lot easier with Cat's ESP, but we've always seemed to manage without any psychic abilities before? We'll figure this out, Sammy."

Dean was the first to walk through the open screen door into the dinky motel office, Sam following closely behind as they both flashed their forged badges to the old man behind the counter, Dean plastering an all-business half smile on his face as he stepped up to the counter, "U.S. Marshals. I'm Dean, this is my partner, Sam. We have reason to believe a possible suspect was staying in one of your rooms. We need access to the security footage just outside room eleven."

The frail old man with greasy gray hair stood up from the other side of the counter, furrowing his brows as he scanned their badges before they both slipped it into the inside pocket of their jackets and shook his head in confusion, "U.S. Marshals? What kind of suspect? What'd he do?"

Sam stepped forward, shaking his head lightly, "We're not at liberty to say. Do you have the name or credit card information for the last person to book that room?"

The man nodded, gesturing with his hand as he headed for the back office, "Follow me."

Sam was now sitting at the cluttered desk as he typed away on the old-school computer, watching the gray footage play at twice the speed with as careful an eye as he could manage, still fighting the effects of the cocktail. Dean stood at a counter with the frail old man as he flipped through the ledger, raising his eyebrows and looking back at the old clerk, "Vincent McCleoud? Was he the only one stayin' in that room?"

The man shook his head, shrugging, "I wasn't on the night shift last night, but I had seen a few women coming in and out of the room."

Dean raised his eyebrows slightly, giving him a look as he shook his head, "A few women? What'd they look like?"

The man shrugged, "I only got a good look at the one? A blonde lady, with black streaks and dressed like one of them devil worshippers."

Dean turned away, hiding his annoyed reaction as he closed the ledger and tossed it onto the desk, "Anything else you remember? Maybe what kind of car she was driving?"

The man shook his head, "I didn't see her drive up in a car, she came here with him. It was a red Dodge charger, I think?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, shrugging to himself as he turned and looked back at the man, "Well, I think that's all we need from you for now. Thanks for your cooperation."