The Life and Lies of Mil Winchester - Book 1

2:07 the usual suspects

“Got over a dozen possible hits.”

“Possible hits,” Sam echoed. “Which makes them worthless.” I glanced at my brother. The range of his knowledge was extensive.

“But it makes you wonder,” Ballard continued. “What are we gonna find when we run yours and your sister’s prints?”

“Yeah well.” Sam pounded his fist on the table. “You be sure to let us know, all right.” He pointed to one of the coffee cups. “May I?”

“Please.”

“Great,” Sam said. He sniffed the cup, and sipped it, as Ballard leaned over he and I, intently.

“Sam, and Millicent, you seem like good kids,” Ballard said. “It's not your fault Dean's your brother. We can't pick our family. Right now detectives in St. Louis are exhuming a corpse. They're trying to figure out how your brother faked his own death. After torturing all those young women. Dean's a bad guy. His life is over. Yours doesn't have to be.”

I stared at her, incredulous, getting the hidden meaning in her words. “You want us to turn against our own brother?”

“No, we already caught him cold. Red-handed at the Karen Giles murder scene,” Ballard said. “We just need you two to fill in some missing pieces.”

“Why would we do that?” Sam asked.

“Because I can talk to the DA,” Ballard said. “Make a deal for you two. You can get on with your lives. Dean’s is as good as gone.”

Sam thought for a moment, his face twisted into feigned sorrow, before speaking quietly. 

“My dad and Tony Giles were old friends. They were in the service together. We've known him since we were kids, you know? So we came as soon as we heard about his death...” As Sam continued speaking, the story of how we got here replayed itself in my mind.

 Sam and I approached Dean, carrying three coffees between us. We took our seats, setting the drinks on the table. Immediately, Dean handed over the paper he’d been reading.

“There you go,” Sam said, speaking about the coffee.

“Anthony Giles,” Dean said, out of the blue.

“Huh?” I asked. Never heard of him.

Neither, apparently, had Sam. “Who’s Anthony Giles?”

“He’s a Baltimore lawyer,” Dean said. “Working late in his office, check it out.”

Sam frowned, muttering the words of the article. “Uh. Throat was slit, room was clean. Huh. No DNA, no prints.”

“Keep reading,” Dean urged. “It gets better.”

“Security cameras failed to capture footage of the assailant,” Sam read.

“So I’m thinking either somebody tampered with the tapes.”

“Or it’s an invisible killer,” I added.

“My favorite kind,” Dean said. I rolled my eyes, of course it was. Dean whacked Sam’s elbow to get his attention. “What do you think, Scully? You wanna check it out?”

“I’m not Scully, Mil’s Scully!” Sam protested.

I shook my head. “We’ve talked about this. I’m Skinner. I keep you guys in line.

“If anyone needs keeping in line, it’s Dean and you,” Sam said.

“And I’m Mulder,” Dean cut in. “Sam’s a red headed woman. And Mil - apparently you’re a bald old man.” We all snickered.