xxxvii
( 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 )
𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 1𝗑19 - 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲
▬▬▬ DEAN AND A YOUNG WOMAN lean close together at the bar.
"Seven, Four, Two Zero."
Dean is typing the number into his phone. "Seven, Four, Two, Zero. All right, you're in there. Perfect. So is that Brandy with a 'y' or an 'i'?" He asks.
Sam and Elena sit at a table strewn with papers. Elena gestures to Dean, who gives her a 'wait' gesture as he laughs at something the woman whispers. Elena gestures again and Dean's smile drops.
"All right, listen, I gotta go. Hold that thought, I'll be right back, okay?"
He approaches Sam and Elena, holding three beers. He hands them over.
"Alright, I think we got something." Sam says.
Dean glances back at the bar, "Oh yeah, me too. I think we need to take a little shore leave, just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one."
"So what are we today Dean? I mean, are we rock stars, are we army rangers?"
Dean grins. "Reality TV scouts, looking for people with special skills. I mean hey, it's not that far off right? By the way, she's got a friend over there. Possibly hook you up. What do you think?"
"Dean, no thanks, I can get my own dates."
"Yeah you can but you don't."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"If Elena can get dudes to fall for her maybe we should too."
Elena slapped Dean's arm.
"Okay sorry."
"Anyways, Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago. Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all..."
Dean is distracted, continuing to check out women in the bar.
"Dean focus!" Elena blurted.
"No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and window locked from the inside. "
"Could just be a garden variety murder you know, not our department." Dean says as he drinks his beer.
"No. Dad says different."
"What do you mean?"
Sam points at the map. "Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. The first one here in 1912, the second one right here in 1945, and the third in 1970, the same M.O. as the Telescas. Their throats were slit, doors were locked from the inside. Now so much time had passed between murders that nobody checked the pattern, except Dad. He kept his eyes peeled for another one."
"And now we got one. All right, I'm with you. It's worth checking out. We can't pick this up til first thing though right?"
"Yeah. I guess."
"Good." Dean heads back to the bar.
"He loves beer and girls huh?" Elena asks
"Yeah, that's Dean for you." Sam replies.
"Ladies...did you miss me?" Dean asked all the women.
"Well yeah."
"I'm just kidding. Listen, I talked to my producer, and it is looking good." Dean says.
"Great. Cool."
Sam and Elena sniggers.
✫☆✫
Dean sleeps slouched in the passenger seat of the impala with sunglasses on. Sam walks around the car, leans in and honks the horn. Dean jumps. Sam sits in the drivers seat, laughing. Elena laughs as well.
Dean adjusts his sunglasses and mumbles, "Man, that is so not cool."
"I just swept the Telescas with EMF. It's clean. And last night, while you were....well...out..."
Dean smirks. "Good times."
"Ew. Poor women Dean." Elena says.
"I checked the history of the house. Nothing strange about the Telescas."
"All right, so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents. Cursed object or something."
Elena holds her head as another vision comes to her mind. "Not again."
The brothers turn around to see her in pain.
Elena sees an auction happening and a painting.
"Elena?" Dean says as his voice has a concerned tone.
Elena gasps as she was breathing for air. She knows the answer that the boys were looking for.
"It's a painting."
"A painting?"
"Yeah. It's cursed." Elena answers.
Both brothers looked at each other.
"I guess we found ourselves another case." Dean says.
✫☆✫
Sam, Dean, and Elena are wandering around an auction house, looking out of place in their casual, rough clothing. Dean takes finger food from a tray. One man especially watches them pass then excuses himself from his companion and moves toward them.
"Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for wasps if you ask me."
Dean takes more food from a tray on a table as the man moves up behind them.
"Can I help you lady and gentlemen?" The man asks.
Dean looks him up and down and then puts more food in his mouth. "I'd like some champagne please."
"He's not a waiter." Sam sharply says to Dean.
Dean cocks an eyebrow. Sam holds out his hand to the man. "I'm Sam Connors."
The Man just looks at him, not moving. Sam moves the hand he's holding out to point at Dean and Elena.
"That's my brother Dean and Elena. We're art dealers, with Connors Limited."
"You are art dealers?"
"That's right." Sam replied.
"I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house. Now, gentlemen, this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list."
"We're there chuckles, you just need to take another look."
A waiter goes past with drinks on a tray.
Dean swipes a glass, "Oh. Finally."
Dean turns back to Blake, sniffs the glass, raises his eyebrows then turns and walks away. Sam and Elena hastily follow, shooting Dean dirty looks.
"Cheers." Elena says.
✫☆✫
The three checks out the items for auction and are drawn to the painting of the family.
"Is this the paining Lena?" Dean asked.
Before Elena answered a woman spoke.
"I fine example of American Primitive wouldn't you say?" The woman asks.
The three turn to see a sleek, classy, extremely good looking young woman in a black dress coming down a spiral staircase. The brothers both stare at her as she turns her back while taking the final part of the stairs. Sam turns back to look at the painting again and Dean, oogling, slaps Sam on the back and continues staring.
"Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses. But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did." Sam remarks.
"Guilty. And clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake."
"I'm Sam. This is my brother, Dean and our friend Elena."
Elena reached her hand out for a handshake. Sarah handshakes her hand.
Dean continues to stuff his face from passing trays.
"Dean. Can we get you some more mini-quiche?"
"I'm good, thanks."
"So, can I help you with something?" Sarah asked Sam.
"Yeah, actually. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?"
Elena whispers into Dean's ear. "This is the painting."
"The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones." Sarah says.
"Is it possible to see the provenances?" Sam asks.
"I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that." Daniel says as he came up to them.
"Why not?"
"You're not on the guest list. And I think it's time to leave."
"Well, we don't have to be told twice." Dean says.
"Apparently you do."
"Okay. It's all right. We don't want any trouble. We'll go." Elena says.
Dean raises his eyebrows and walks off. Sam and Sarah exchange a long look, Elena looked at them, she knows it's a good time for him to move on from Jessica, she wants the brothers to be happy for their own good.
"Dad, that was just rude." Sarah mumbles.
✫☆✫
At a motel, Sam, Dean, and Elena approach a room.
"Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?" Dean questioned.
"Art history course. It's good for meeting girls." Sam says.
Elena unlocks the door.
"It's like I don't even know you." Dean snickered.
They enter the room, the do not disturb door hanger is a silver outline of John Travolta from Saturday Night Fever. They all look from one side of the room to the other and pause.
"Huh."
They move into the room, dumping their bags.
"What was...providence?" Dean asks.
"Prov-e-nance. It's a certificate of origin, like a biography. You know we can use them to check the history of the pieces, see if any of them have a freaky past."
"Huh. Well, we're not getting anything out of chuckles, but Sarah..." Dean snaps his fingers at Sam, smirking.
Sam smirks back, "Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin."
Elena looked at Sam and Dean. "Wow okay does testosterone reek here?"
Dean laughs and shakes his head. "Not me."
"No no no, pickups are your thing Dean." Sam says.
"It wasn't my butt she was checking out."
They all exchange a look.
"In other words, you want me to use her to get information." Sam says.
"Sometimes you gotta take one for the team. Call her."
✫☆✫
Sam and Sarah sit at a table at a fancy restaurant.
"Nice place." Sam starts.
"Yeah."
There is a long awkward pause.
"Glad you called. Surprised, but glad." Sarah says.
"Yeah?"
"Although you seemed to have a hard time getting out the words "Would you like to have dinner"."
"Ah, yeah. I haven't really been on a date in a while." At that moment Sam thought about Jessica.
"Welcome to the club."
Sam looked surprised. "You're kidding me."
"Yeah. But what about that friend of yours? Elena right?"
"Oh, Elena? Nah, she's just a close family friend." Sam says.
"A close family friend that hangs out with you guys?"
"It's complicated."
The waiter came up to Sam and Sarah. "Here we are. The wine list."
Sam looks totally uncomfortable, flipping pages randomly.
"I don't know about Romeo here but I'll have a beer." Sarah ordered.
The waiter looked at Sam. "And you?"
Sam smiles. "Make that two."
Later Sam and Sarah are talking about themselves and getting to know each other more.
"So you studied art in school huh?" Sam questioned.
"It's true. I was an artist. A terrible terrible artist. And that's why I'm in the auction business. And you were pre-law?"
"Yeah."
"But you didn't go to law school. How come?"
"Uh, that's a really really long story for another time." Sam mutters.
"You're not like any art dealer I've ever met."
They exchange another long look.
"So, what did you mean when you said you haven't been on a date in a while. Trying to make me feel like I'm not such a loser?"
"I'm sure you're many things Sam. I'm also sure loser isn't one of them." Sarah says.
More long looks exchanged.
"It was my Mom. She died about a year ago. Totally unexpected. It really threw me. I went into this shell. A nice warm safe shell. But lately I've been thinking. It's not what she would have wanted for me. So...."
Sam went into a thought, a common between Sarah and him is their mother died.
More long looks.
"So what about you? You're a reasonably attractive guy."
Sam laughs and looked embarrassed, "Reasonably?"
"Why haven't you been out and about?" Sarah asks.
Sam thinks, looks at her, loses his smile and thinks some more.
Sarah watches him. "Another long story for another time."
Sam nods slowly.
✫☆✫
Dean is sharpening his blade on a whetstone, Sam is looking through some papers while Elena is trying to do researches.
"So she just handed the providences over to you?" Dean asks.
"Provenances." Sam corrected his brother.
Dean rolls his eyes. "Provenances?"
"Yes. We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers."
"And?"
"And nothing. That's it. I left."
"You didn't have to con her or do any special favors or anything like that?"
"Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please?" Elena pleaded.
Dean laughs and looked at Sam again. "You know when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit."
"Why?" Sam asked.
"So you could take her out again. It's obvious you're into her, even Elena and I could see that."
Sam turns to Elena.
Elena slightly smiles. "Yeah. I agree with Dean."
Sam turns to his papers, "Hey, I think I've got something here."
Dean and Elena come over, Sam hands them the papers.
Dean reads off the paper, "Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910."
"Now compare the names of the owners with Dad's journal." Sam suggested.
Dean checks against the journal. "First purchased in 1912, Peter Simms. Peter Simms murdered in 1912. Same thing in 1945. Oh, same thing in 1970."
"Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it. So Elena's right, it's cursed." Sam says.
Dean gets up, "Either way, it's toast."
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