First Hunt: Day 2
"I'm very sorry, I know this is a tough time to have to talk about all of this." Sam's voice is soft as he speaks to the woman in front of him, (y/n) standing next to him as he tries to continue his interrogation. The woman is distraught, clutching a used tissue in her shaking hands as she tries to hold back her tears
"I've already been through it so many times with the lawyers, the police, the insurance guys" She explains tiredly, obviously just wanting to go home and rest for a change. (y/n) finds herself pitying her, knowing the heartbreak she must be feeling at the moment
"I know, we just...We have to conduct our own separate investigation. I'm sorry, I know it's tough" Sam professionally sympathizes with the woman, getting her to nod in understanding. Letting her take a moment to compose herself, Sam clears his throat to signal to (y/n) that he was going to start asking her the 'weird' questions. This was her cue to be on alert, ready to jump in to help cover his ass if things got sticky
"Can I ask you, did your sister have any enemies?" The woman furrows her brows at this question, blue eyes snapping to stare at him in disbelief
"Why do you ask that? Do you think her death wasn't accidental?" (y/n) sensing her growing anxiety, finally speaks up
"No! No, no, no, we just have to consider every possibility, you know?" (y/n) gently explains, able to calm the woman down a bit before continuing with the rehearsed questions Sam had given to her earlier ,"is there anyone who might have wanted to harm her?"
A bitter smile spreads across her face, new tears beginning to well up in her sky blue eyes as she sniffles lightly
"You guys don't live here, so you don't know-" the tears escape her lash line, running down her soft cheeks as she continues ,"-everyone...loved Wendy. She volunteered at the church, even ran a group for kids. I was the big sister, and I looked up to her."
"I understand-" (y/n) offers a empathetic smile, lightly rubbing the woman's arm to comfort her ,"-I'm so sorry."
"What about this man who died-" Sam pulls out a photo from his suit jacket, showing the picture to the woman ,"-Carl Dunlap? Did she know him?"
"I don't think so" The woman answers through light sniffles. Sam is persistent
"Wendy was in real estate, right? Carl was an architect, maybe they had some business dealings?"
"If they had worked together, I would've heard the name..." The woman sighs tiredly, a moment of silence passing the group before she's speaking to them again ,"Agents, if someone did this to my sister, find out who."
"We understand...Thank you for your time"
Bidding the woman a kind farewell, the pair watch as she climbs into her car, pulling out of the parking lot to drive back home. Sam lets out a tired sigh before his phone begins to vibrate against his thigh, hand reaching down to pull the device from his pocket.
"Dean?" (y/n) asks him and gets a nod in reply. Answering the phone he's silent as he listens to Dean's voice on the other end
"Another one? Send me the address, we'll meet you there" He hangs up the phone and shoves it back into his pocket.
"Dead body?" She asks vaguely
"Apparently, Vic was nailed to death"
"Dean would have had a field day with that-" Sam chuckles lightly at the playful smirk on her soft lips ,"-where are we headed?"
"Construction sight on the north side of town. Hopefully we'll find some answers with this one..."
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Heels digging themselves in the dirt, tan dust billowing in small clouds as it's moved, (y/n) walks beside Dean as he makes his way towards one of the higher ranking officers on the lot. She catches the way Dean giggles to himself upon seeing her struggle slightly in her ridiculous shoes on the way there. (y/n) makes a mental note to punch him later. Walking up to the officer, the pair quickly flash their badges
"Agents..." The chocolate haired officer greets them through furrowed brows, confused to see the FBI on a case like this. Dean is quick to get started, motioning towards the lifeless body behind the officer
"What do we know about the vic?"
"Dewey Stevens-" the man begins with a sigh, dark eyes filled with grief as he continues ,"-owner of Dewey Stevens Construction, biggest outfit in town. Rotarian, methodist, tenor, blue-ribbon pecan pie champ, asthmatic"
"You two must have been very close" (y/n) comments, receiving a sad nod in reply
"We're a close-knit community"
"So, this, um, pillar of the community-" Dean leads (y/n) and the officer over to the covered body resting inside of the bloodied porta potty ,"-was taking a leak before he, uh, sprung a few?"
"The crew had gone for the day. The site was shut down" the man explains, as they finally stop just before the open door of the bathroom. Massive flies begin to whiz past the group, incessant buzzing only amplified by the small space of the plastic outhouse. (y/n) seeing the sheet covering the body of the victim, swiftly rips the fabric away, revealing to Dean and her the fresh corpse of Dewy Stevens. Covered in coagulated blood, the man is completely nailed to the back wall of the bathroom, thick metal nails sunk deep into his eyes and limbs. (y/n) recovers the body with the plastic sheet while Dean turns to ask the officer some more questions
"Anything unusual besides the-" He uses his fingers to dramatically demonstrate what he had just seen ,"-nails in the eyes?"
"Well, we're still trying to figure out where they plugged in the nail gun, seeing as there's no generator on the truck."
"Well, when you figure that out, let us know."
Just as the officer is walking away from the pair, (y/n) finds something near the victims bloodied boot. On the floor of the porta potty, tucked away in the corner, was a dime-sized coin. Thick metal and golden in the light, the surface was covered in strange markings. (y/n) picks it up between her fingers and hands it to Dean.
"Same coin you found at the salon?" She asks him, watching as he carefully examines it's shining surface. He nods, stuffing the small piece into his suit pocket
"Let's go see if Sams found anything..."
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"So, another victim everybody likes" Dean announces loudly as the pair step into a small trailer used by the construction workers during their breaks. Sam, seated at one of the company computers, glances up from the screen before scoffing lightly
"Not everybody"
"These deaths are physically impossible, anyone have any ideas?" (y/n) asks the group, walking over to join Sam at the desk to see what he was up to. Looking at the screen, she watches as Sam skim's through a pile of emails
"Cirque du soleil?" Sam sighs tiredly, trying to rack his brain for anything at this point.
"Oh!" Dean pulls out the golden coin from his jacket, handing the small metal piece to his brother ,"(y/n) found another one of these, same as the hair-dryer/brain-roast"
"And I found a connection with all the vics-" Sam stuffs the coin into his own pocket before reading off his findings to the pair next to him ,"-these email logs show Wendy, the real-estate chick, Carl, the architect, and this Dewey guy, were all working on a shopping-center project together"
"Wait a second..." (y/n) leans over to get a better look, pointing at the dates the emails were sent ,"they stop all of a sudden, why?"
"My guess is that it all fell apart for some reason" Sam explains to the pair.
"So, everybody working on this project has died?" It's a question, but Dean's voice makes it seem more like a statement. Sam shakes his head, pulling up another window on the screen
"Well, not yet. They were working with a developer, a guy named...Don Stark?" Sam's information seems to strike a chord in Dean, green eyes narrowed as he tries to figure out why
"Don Stark? Why do I know that name?"
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"Don Stark?"
"Yeah, that's me..."
The three professionally dressed hunters stand on top of the concrete doorstep of the supposed next victim of these gruesome murders, greying haired man staring at them through narrowed eyes as (y/n) tries to greet him as kindly as she could
"We're with the FBI-" He widens his light eyes at this, Sam and Dean giving him tight lipped smiles as she continues ,"-we were wondering if we'd be able to come in, ask you a few questions?"
"Oh, uh..." He opens the navy blue door a bit more so that the group is able to slip into the home ,"Sure, right this way"
Leading the three through the winding halls of his large house, the group make their way into an office. Dark wood covered every surface as a pale yellow light illuminated the room. All around them were shelves filled with books and pictures of his accomplishments. It was obvious to (y/n) that he must be a very proud man. Don turns on his heels, pouring himself a glass of liquor before offering some to the hunters. They all politely decline
"Mr. Stark-" Sam begins, clearing his throat before he continues ,"-we were wondering if we could ask you about the recent deaths in this town? Wendy, Carl, and Dewey?"
"If the bureau's involved, I assume you think all three were murdered..."
"It's looking that way, yes" Dean answers before Sam is trying to ask more questions
"Now, Mr.Stark, you had a relationship with all three victims, correct?"
(y/n) watches carefully as he sits down into a black leather chair, hands moving around on his desk as he straightens out piles of papers messily strewn across it's dark stained surface.
"I knew them in business circles, I guess...sure"
"And you were all involved in some sort of shopping-center project, right?" (y/n) asks, receiving a small nod from Don before continuing ,"Why'd that fall through?"
"Uh, sometimes things just happen-" Before he's able to continue, a faint knock on the open door catches all of their attention. Turning to look, their eyes land on a small blonde girl with what looks to be dry cleaning in her hands. Her smile is sickeningly sweet
"Oh, Jenny!" Don greets her kindly, motioning towards the 3 people standing in front of him ,"These people are from the FBI."
"Jenny Klein, Don Starks assistant" She reaches out a hand to shake, the group awkwardly greeting her back before she's turning back to Don ,"Okay, Don, I'm off to the cleaner's and then I'm gonna stop at Beaman, Beaman, and Beaman for the revised contracts."
"Hurry on back. You know how things fall apart without you" Don replies, a fond smile on his lips as he speaks to her. Dean raises a knowing eyebrow, glancing over to the pair next to him to find they are thinking the same thing. Jenny chuckles lightly before gasping dramatically
"Oh! I baked you some cupcakes, coconut!"
"Coconut, you're too good to me, Jenny"
"I feel like I shouldn't be watching this..." (y/n) whispers to Dean and Sam who nod their head in agreement. Bidding her farewells, Jenny makes her way out of the office and disappears down the hallway, Don watching her leave the entire time. When he catches the group staring at him, he shrinks slightly into himself
"She bakes cupcakes..."
"Yummy" Dean replies through his cringed teeth before Sam interrupts him
"I noticed this plaque on this wall over here, 'citizen of the year?'" Don seems to enjoy being able to indulge in his narcissistic tendencies, a smile spreading across his lips as he motions to the many other awards he's gotten over the years
"Everyone here respects and admires me, I've done a lot for this city"
"Including your wife?" Sam's question comes out somewhat harsher than expected, Dean and (y/n) finding themselves staring at the man in wide eyed shock as Sam tries to recover ,"-sorry, it's just, we heard the two of you were splitting up, right?"
Don's smile is wiped away as he avoids their gazes, obviously still hurt from the relationship. He clears his throat to try and cover up his fragility before replying
"Maggie and I are going through a tough time. It's a separation--temporary. Sometimes, you know, you grow apart and it's no one's fault."
"Now, how would you describe the, uh, issues between you and your wife?" (y/n) notes the somewhat rough territory their crossing into, watching Don carefully
"Just one of those marital misunderstandings, you know"
"No, I'm sorry, I don't." Sam replies, persistent to get him to talk. Don furrows his eyebrows in annoyance
"It's one of those vague, hard-to-define passages-"
"She caught you cheating, huh?" Dean interrupts, done with the vague bullshit ,"I couldn't help but notice that things were kind of cordial between you and your assistant. Pretty good with the ladies there, Mr.Stark? Blessing and a curse, isn't it?"
"Guys, I'm a people person, and I admire dynamic, confident women" He poorly defends himself
"'Admire'?" (y/n) echoes through narrowed eyes, feeling herself grow a tad frustrated. Don cracks, sighing tiredly
"Okay, look...It's true I had a recent thing with a business associate, but that's all it was."
"A 'thing'?" (y/n) scoffs lightly, trying to control her temper.
"Yes"
"Mr. Stark, an affair isn't something you can refer to as a 'thing'. That's a sure fire way to piss off a wife caught in the middle-"
"Yes, and when Maggie found out about it, she needed some time off, temporarily" Don replied calmly, almost as if he knew for a fact that Maggie would crawl back to him. Dean lets out a light chuckle
"Now, if we were to guess that the 'business associate' was Wendy Goodson, would we win the weekend trip to Maui?"
"No-" Don sighs, standing up from his chair to walk away from the group ,"-her death had nothing to do with the affair, it was over long before her accident"
"If it was an accident" Sam corrects quietly earning a confused stare from Don
"You're not implying that Maggie was behind this"
"No, we're not implying anything-" Sam begins, shrugging his shoulders lightly ,"-we're just saying...you should be careful."
"Maybe even take her dinner, apologize" (y/n) suggests bitterly
The group slowly makes their way out of the dark wood office, Dean turning back for a moment to wink at the greying man still leaning back on his desk with a dumbfounded look on his face
"Grovelling wouldn't hurt either!"