Maddison Winchester: Journal 6 {Supernatural}

16 The French Mistake: Part 3

Fake-Ruby turned her attention back to Sam. "Well, there's that thing I have to get to."

Sam nodded. "Oh, yeah. Of course, yeah. The thing."

Fake-Ruby raised her eyebrows. "The international otter adoption charity dinner?"

Sam nodded. "Oh."

Fake-Ruby shrugged. "Okay, well..." She kissed Sam awkwardly, giving him a look when she pulled away. "I'm glad you guys are talking, anyway."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

We watched as Fake-Ruby left, and they both checked her out.

Dean shrugged. "Well, looks like you did all right."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Yeah. I should figure out her name."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We found a library in the mansion and got to work, trying to gather whatever we needed to reverse the spell.

Sam sat at a computer at a desk in front of a giant black-and-white portrait of himself as a cowboy. "'Wrist bone of saint and holy reliquary. Museum-quality, from a diocese in Oaxaca.' Looks legit."

Dean nodded. "All right." He gestured to the computer he was working on. "Auction house is in Mexico City. We could be there the day after tomorrow. We, uh, case it, yank it, be back here by the end of the week."

Sam shrugged. "Or we could just buy it."

I furrowed my brow at him. "How could we possibly do that?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, dude, that thing's over a hundred thou—"

Sam held up a black credit card.

Dean and I nodded, impressed.

Dean smiled brightly. "Hello, Jared Padalecki."

Sam called the number on the website and spoke to the person on the other end in Spanish.

I sat next to Dean as he ordered lamb blood. "Triple rush. No problemo." He smirked and winked at me and then typed the credit card number. "Because money is no obj—" Then a red error message popped up. "This baby's maxed." He tossed the card onto the floor and pulled a new card out of his wallet.

"Wow. They said it should be at the airport first thing in the morning," Sam said when he hung up.

Dean smiled. "Money, man. There is nothing like it." He clicked the order button and then closed the laptop. "All right. Couch. TV star. Beauty rest." He stood up and jumped onto an oversized black leather couch, where he laid down. "Ah." He groaned as he stretched.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, Dean called Clif, and we headed to the airport to pick up our package. We waited for Sam to return from the exchange on the airport apron next to the airplane.

"So, I don't mean to pry, but, uh, why are we picking up packages at 8 AM that haven't cleared customs yet?" Clif asked nervously.

Dean shrugged. "Just saving time."

Sam approached the car with a box and climbed into the back.

Dean rubbed his hands together excitedly. "All right, here we go."

Clif turned to face us. "We're not doing anything illegal, are we?"

Sam glanced at us and then back at Clif. "Would it make you feel better if we said no?"