Sam and I were sitting at a table, Sam with his laptop open. Onscreen was a mugshot of Dean from the St. Louis Police Department. "I can't believe you got SHIELD to erase this from the Fed's database,"
"I didn't use SHIELD. I used a member of the Rising Tide," I corrected "I told you and Dean, I cut ties with SHIELD, they kept too many secrets from me,"
Sam raised an eyebrow at me "Really...KC? All ties?"
I rolled my eyes "Ok. Maybe not all ties. I just don't work for SHIELD anymore...better?" I asked as I kissed him. We broke apart when Dean returned.
"All right. What do you got on the case there?" Dean asked as he sat down at the table.
Sam shut his computer and pulled out several pages of research. "Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home, a condominium he designed,"
"Hmm. Build a high-rise and jump off the top of it. That's classy. When did he call animal control?"
"Two days earlier," I replied
"Did he actually say Black Dog?"
"Yeah. A vicious, wild, black dog. The authorities couldn't find it, no one else saw it; in fact, the authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town. After that, no more calls, he doesn't show up for work, two days later he takes a swan dive,"
"Do you think we're dealing with an actual Black Dog?"
"Well," Sam said looking over at me "maybe,"
"What's the lore on it?" Dean asked
Sam passed Dean the pages "It's all pretty vague. I mean, there are spectral black dogs all over the world, but...some say they're animal spirits, others say death omens. But anyways, whatever they are, they're big, nasty,"
"Yeah, I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg, look at that one, huh?" Dean held up a picture and smirked; I glared at him; the smirk slipped "What? They could,"
***
In a posh, well-lit room, Sam and I were wearing suits and interviewing a man.
"So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?" I asked
"That's right. Now one more time, this is for...?" The man asked
"A tribute to Mr. Boyden. Architectural Digest,"
The Man laughed.
I quirked an eyebrow "This funny to you?"
"No, it...it's just, a tribute. Yeah. See, Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind...well, he gets another tribute,"
"Right. Any idea why he'd do such a thing?" Sam asked
"I, I have no clue, I mean he lived a charmed life," The Man explained
"How so?"
"He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I'm capable, but next to him, I...and it wasn't always that way, either,"
"No?" I asked
"You wanna know the truth?" The man asked "There was a time where he couldn't even design a pup tent. Hell, ten years ago he's working as a bartender at this place called Lloyds. A complete dive,"
"Right." Sam said, "So what changed?"
"You got me. But overnight, he gets this huge commission, and he starts designing...he starts designing the most ingenious buildings anyone has ever seen. It was like, the level of Van Gogh, and Mozart..." the man cut off abruptly.
"What?" I asked
"It's funny. True geniuses, they seem to die young, don't they? To have that kind of talent? Why...why just throw it away?"
***
Dean exited a building designated Animal Protection Agency, wearing a suit. Sam and I were waiting in the car. Dean got in the driver's side.
"So," I said
"Secretary's name is Carly. She's twenty-three, she, uh, kayaks, and they're real,"
"You didn't happen to ask her if she's seen any black dogs lately, did you?" Sam asked
Dean held up a page "Every complaint called in this week about anything big, black, or dog-like. There's nineteen calls in all. And, uh," he pulled off a Post-it note "I don't know what this thing is.
I took it, read it, and laughed. I glanced at Dean "You mean Carly's MySpace address?"
"Yeah, MySpace, what the hell is that?"
Sam laughed.
"Seriously, is that like some sort of porn site?" Dean asked
***
Dean, Sam, and I approached yet another white suburban door and knocked. "I swear if this is another freakin' Pomeranian barking in the neighbor's yard..."
The door opened to reveal a young woman.
"Afternoon, ma'am," I greeted as I pulled out an ID "Animal Control,"
"Oh, someone already came yesterday," The Woman explained
"Oh, we're just following up." Sam said, "We're looking for Dr. Sylvia Pearlman?"
"The Doctor, well, she, I don't know exactly when she'll be back, she left two days ago,"
"Okay. And you are...?" I asked
"I'm Ms. Pearlman's maid," The Woman said.
"So where did the Doctor go?" Dean asked
"I'm not sure. She just packed and went, she didn't say where. That stray dog, did you find it finally?" The maid asked
"Oh, not yet. You know, you didn't ever happen to see the dog yourself, did you?" Sam asked
"Well, no. I never even heard it,"
As Sam and Dean talked to the Woman I took a photograph off the wall: It showed Dr. Pearlman at a bar with two friends.
"I was almost starting to think the Doctor was imagining things, but she's not like that, so..." The Woman continued
"Hey, you know I read she was, uh chief surgeon at the hospital." Dean said "She's gotta be what, forty-two, forty-three? That's pretty young for that job,"
"Youngest in history of the place. She got the position...ten years ago?"
"Huh," Sam said
"Huh." I repeated "An overnight success. Ten years ago,"
"Yeah, we know a guy like that," Dean said
"Oh, look at this." I held up the photo, flipped it over to show writing on the back "Lloyd's Bar,"
***
Dean, Sam, and I pulled up outside Lloyd's Bar and got out. As we walked towards the b I noticed some yellow flowers growing by the side of the road. I stopped.
"That's weird," I said noticing the yellow flowers were growing on more than one corner of the crossroad.
"What?" Sam asked
"Think someone planted these?"
"Middle of all these weeds?" Dean asked "These are, uh, what do you call 'em,"
"Yarrow flowers?" I suggested
"Yeah. Used for certain rituals, aren't they?"
"Yeah, actually. Summoning rituals," Sam explained
"So, two people become sudden successes about ten years ago. Right around the time they were hanging out here at Lloyd's," I noted
"Where there just happens to be a crossroads." Sam looked over at me "You think?"
"Let's find out," Dean walked to the center of the crossroads with a shovel and looked around, measuring. "This seem about the dead center to you?" he dug a few inches into the hard soil and hit something solid. Dean stopped "Yahtzee," he dropped the shovel and dug with his hands, pulling out an old rusted box. Dean opened it. It contained, among other things, several small bones and a small stoppered jar that I took out.
"I'd be willing to bet that's graveyard dirt. And a black cat bone," Sam said looking at what I was holding.
"That's serious spellwork. I mean, that's Deep South Hoodoo stuff," I noted "Used to summon a demon. Not just summon one. Crossroads are where pacts are made. These people are actually making deals with the damn thing,"
"They're seeing dogs, all right. But not Black Dogs, they're seeing Hellhounds. Demonic pit bulls,"
"Yeah, whoever this demon is, it's back and it's collecting." Dean said "And that doctor lady? Wherever she's running? She ain't running fast enough,"