Marked (Supernatural) [Rogue Trilogy] {2}

33. The Werther Project (Part 1)

33. The Werther Project (Part 1)

"Well, isn't this a lovely place?" I say as Sam and I walk up to the front door.

The house is white but looks to have been abandoned for some time. The lawn hasn't been cut. The house overall just looks neglected. We pass a pile of newspapers when we get onto the porch. I peek into the window and don't see anyone. I gesture to Sam, and he hands over his lock-pick.

I'm about fifteen seconds into picking the lock when I see a shotgun barrel sticking out from the mail slot and not at me. It's pointed at Sam's crotch.

"Hey now," I say warningly.

"Bad idea," comes a voice from the other side of the door.

"W-We can explain," Sam tries.

"Yeah, don't bother. You got three choices—get arrested, get your bits blown off, or get back."

"Yeah, alright. We'll, uh, we'll get back. Sorry. Jo." Sam has to pull me away from picking the lock.

"Attaboy."

"Were you just gonna let her blow my junk off?" Sam hisses as we leave the porch and get back to my truck.

"Of course not," I say.

"Then why did you look like you weren't gonna stop picking that lock?"

"I thought she'd bluff." I shrug.

"Don't ever try and call someone's bluff when they've got a shotgun aimed at your junk, Jo. That's playing Russian Roulette."

"Hey-ya, guys," says Dean, and I spin around to find him walking up alongside my truck. "How's the case?"

"What are you doing here?" I stammer.

"Well it looks like I, uh, I'm here to save your sack since Jo doesn't seem to care."

"Thanks, Dean." I frown.

"Look, you both were right, okay? I shouldn't have gone off solo like I did. It was stupid."

"And?"

"And selfish. It was a douche move. If you're doing this case without me to teach me a lesson, you don't have to, okay?"

"How'd you find us?" asks Sam.

"Ah. I, uh, took an etching off your notepad. Then I decided to take a crack at the St. Louis suicide house."

"So you know about it?"

"I got the basics from Google. The family moves into a long-vacant house. Uh, one week later, three of 'em dead by their own hands. Whole family wiped out except for the daughter, which the house is still under her name. I'm figuring she's the one who nearly unmanned you back there. But see, here's what I don't get. A cold case is one thing, but...this is subzero. I mean, there's nothing even in our wheelhouse, unless you two know something I don't."

"Yeah," I say. "Um...That long-vacant home used to be a Men of Letters chapter house. Remember Magnus?"

"You mean the dickwad ex-Men of Letters that tried to make a zoo exhibit out of me? Yeah."

"Before he was expelled, he built Werther, a magical box with a deadly alarm system. Werther is buried somewhere in that house. It was supposed to have been guarded, but—"