SPN Big Bang 2011 - Where the Wind Blows - Part 4
Take one step back for PART 3
Armed with background information for each of the staff, Sam made his decision to start with Annie, the cook slash general housekeeper. Sam found her in the kitchen, in hopes that the familiar place would not put her on the defensive. She was stirring something in a pot, and the whole kitchen smelled of tomatoes.
There was nothing provocative or interesting in Annie Bosco's life of sixty years. She started out as a teacher at a public school in Kansas, then resigned to take a post at an all-girls' private school in New York. She worked her way up to principal, and retired five years ago. She had been with the Frances ever since.
In the personal side, both her parents passed away ten years ago, her three siblings were married and she had several nieces and nephews. Her assistant housekeeper, Lela Adams, was one of them. There were no significant others, and nothing else indicated that she might have a grudge against the Frances. But Sam knew appearances can be deceiving.
Annie looked up from stirring the pot when he came in. Sam smiled at her, flashing his dimples, and she took a moment to return it, a little less brightly than his own.
“Sam, what can I do for you?” Her tone was not encouraging.
“Hey Annie. Do you have a minute to spare?” Sam was always nervous when it comes to interviewing people like Annie, who had that air of a person that knew everything that was going on around her, and would know if she was being lied to. Additionally, the housekeeper still looked like the former principal that she was, stern to her students but secretly was fond of all of them, even the rowdy ones.
Alright, it’s possible I’ve been reading too many Mallory Towers when I was a kid. Dean would laugh himself sick if he knew what I was thinking.
“Sure. Hold on a minute.” She covered the pot and turned down the flames of the stove, then turned back to Sam. “Have a seat at the island, I’ll pour us some lemonade.”
“You don’t have to bother…” Sam began but Annie was already fetching the glasses and opening the large refrigerator door. While Annie was pouring out the drink, Sam took a good look at the kitchen. He had ventured in here to do an EMF sweep - was it only yesterday? Felt like a long time ago - but he didn’t linger.
The kitchen looked like something out of a magazine. The room was enormous, with a color scheme of dark browns, and pale yellows. Everything looked expensive, from the intricately cut tile pattern on the floor, to the yards of material that had been used to drape and swag the wide windows. Little details like fresh flowers in bottle vases and herbs in little planters by the side of the counters gave the place a personal touch. The huge island in the middle was clearly an antique buffet of some sort, refitted with new drawer pulls and a thick granite top. The appliances were stainless steel and modern, with numerous buttons and digital screens. Sam made a mental note not to touch anything because everything there was intimidating, person included.
“Thanks, Annie.” Sam took the glass offered to him, and downed half of it in one gulp. It was refreshing. He took a smaller sip and placed it on the island counter, and faced Annie who was sitting calmly opposite him, with a glass of her own. Sam decided to start with small talk and worked his way into a serious one.
"So Annie, how long have you been working here?"
"Almost thirteen years now, just before Skylar was born. But that’s not what you want to know, is it?"
Sam was taken aback, having his own spotlight turned back to him. "Excuse me?"
"You don't want to know anything about me, not really. Or maybe you already know, but you pretended not to know. Either way, it doesn’t matter. What you really want to know is if I know anything about the attacks plaguing Trin."
Sam waited a beat before answering, observing the woman in front of him. His gut instinct told him she wasn't the one he was looking for, the one that had been doing the sending, but he had been tricked before. He decided to be straightforward about the attacks though, because there might be something that could help them crack the case open.
"Yeah, you are right. I'm actually trying to help to stop the attacks on Trinity,” he said, purposefully editing Dean's attack out. “Is there anything you can think of that can help us?”
She studied him for a moment, face serious, and then gave a small nod. "I might. You know that the children's mother, Sharon, died about three years ago?” Sam nodded, and she continued. “Before she died, God rest her soul, she confided in me that she was 'disturbed' at night, hearing voices calling her name, and waking up with scratches on her limbs and back without knowing how she got them, said she was always feeling watched by someone. I thought it was because of her cancer spreading in her brain causing hallucinations or something like that. But now, with Trin going through almost the same thing, I can't help but wonder if there was really something to her words."
Interesting. Annie had corroborated Brian's story to Dean about the late Mrs. Frances being disturbed by something just before her death.
"Annie, did Sharon say anything else about whatever that was disturbing her?"
Annie shook her head, frowning, making little curls escape from her tight bun. "Just in general terms. She might have thought she was mistaken, or maybe the feelings ceased, because she only told me that once, and it was never brought up again. Shortly after that she took a turn for the worse, and had all but forgotten what she said, until the attacks." Her face was pensive, perhaps thinking that there might be something she could have done that might have made a difference.
"I see." Impulsively, he asked a follow-up question. “Do you believe in the supernatural, Annie?”
Annie laughed, her demeanor thawing. “I’m an old woman, Sam. I’ve seen things that defy logic, and others that simply can’t be explained except with the supernatural. Trin’s attacks cannot be explained by logic, so when you’ve eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”
Sam smiled. “Holmes did really say it best.” The housekeeper smiled back.
Annie had nothing else to add to that particular topic, and with that out of the way, Sam should now cast the bait to find out where she stood was in regards to his brother. "By the way, I apologize for Dean disrupting your work yesterday. He has a boundless interest when it comes to pie, and it matches his appetite. "
Annie beamed, transforming her face from merely jovial to very motherly. "Oh no, it's all right! I'm thrilled he likes them. It's always nice to meet someone who's interested in my baking! Kids these days only want to buy that pre-made stuff for convenience. If you boys are staying here longer, I could teach him how to bake one.”
Sam chuckled at the mental image of Dean in an apron and a face full of flour. “He might blow up the kitchen, Annie." Sam finished his drink and stood up from his chair, a signal that the interview was over. "Thanks for talking to me, Annie.”
“It's not a hardship, Sam,” Annie replied, and stood up as well, gathering the glasses to bring them to the sink.
Sam asked, “Do you know where Lela might be at the moment?"
The housekeeper thought for a moment. "She should be cleaning the living room right now. You should be able to find her there."
"Thank you." As Sam reached the doorway of the kitchen, he paused, and turned back.
"I’m curious. How did you know I'm investigating the attacks? Did George tell you?"
The plump woman laughed. “I was a teacher, and then the head for a private school for twenty years, Sam. I know when kids are telling lies, and when they're not. It's a gift." She winked, and turned around to resume her duties.
Sam smirked. His imagination wasn’t off the mark after all.
Dean took over the laptop after Sam left, and started researching the former neighbor's history through the internet, but after an hour of trawling around, he could only find the bare minimum, so he decided to ask the Frances what they knew about their ex-neighbor, and took it from there. With that half-plan, he went searching for a family member and found all of them in George's study.
"Dean." Well, at least Skylar was happy to see him, smiling when he opened the door. The other two people in the room were looking at him with wary and weary eyes.
"Is it time to ask us more questions again?" Trinity asked monotonously.
Dean favored her with a brief smile. "I'm afraid so. I'll try to keep them as short as possible."
"Do you need to ask each of us separately, because I can go..." George sat back down when Dean gestured to him to stop.
"No, all of you can be here together. I think it might be better, actually.” Having them here at the same time would save him some trouble of hunting each later on.
Dean chose to perch himself on the edge of the desk across everyone while they sat on the couch; he wanted to be able to see their eyes to know if they were hiding something.
“Now, I know this might sound unrelated, but bear with me. What can you tell me about your former neighbor, the one who sold you that piece of land just past the garden?"
All three exchanged surprised looks. "You mean Michael Surry? What has he got to do with what's happening?" George was frowning, trying to come up with a connection.
"For the moment it’s only an instinct." Dean admitted. "We're exploring options. We found out that he didn't want to sell that land for the longest time, when he changed his mind suddenly. That sounded hinky, and I was wondering if you asked him for a reason."
George shook his head thoughtfully. "I didn't think much of it. It was only a few months after Sharon died and I was still half-mad with grief. He came to the house one day saying that he had an unexpected urge to move, and offered to sell me that land before he put his house on the market. I bought it, in memory of Sharon, but not much has been done to it. Brian cuts the grass at regular intervals, to keep it neat. We wanted to extend the garden at first, but the land wasn't arable or fertile enough, so we just left it as it is."
Dean nodded his head, accepting the explanation. "I see. What did his wife say about the sale? He was married, right?" That much he had gotten from the records.
"He was. His wife died, around five, six years ago. She fell down the stairs of the house and cracked her head. The coroner said death was instant." Trinity continued with the story. He saw Trinity hesitate, before speaking carefully.
“We’re not very close to them, to be honest. They had no kids, so Skylar and I had no reason to go over. Some years we had Fourth of July barbecues, and we invited them over, and I remember one year Mrs. Surry came wearing a floaty white dress, with flowers in her hair and barefoot.”
“She was a hippie, they both were.” George volunteered, a smile on his face as he remembered his old neighbors. “Madeline came from old money; her grandfather struck oil somewhere on his land, so neither them had reason to hold down jobs. They made money by some smart investing, and they devoted most of their time to charity work. When she died, Michael came apart.” He paused, smile dimming.
“Sharon was still alive then, she hadn’t been diagnosed with cancer yet, and all four of us went to the funeral. Not many people were there, it was a small one. After her death, Michael became more hermit-like, venturing out only when necessary. I tried to visit a couple of times, bring him out for drinks, invite him over. I never broached the subject of buying that land again after Madeline’s death.”
“Did he seem to be especially eager to sell the land off to you?”
“If by eager you mean willing to sell below the valuation price, then yes, he was.” George paused. “Is anything on the land that’s connected to what’s happening to my daughter?”
“We don’t know yet. Every little bit of info helps.” There might be something on that land, maybe something connected to the person doing the summoning and sending.
Dean thought through what he had learned so far.
"So his wife died, he continued to stay in the house, and then when Sharon died he had an epiphany, decided to move on and sold the land to you at a dirt cheap price, then disappeared to the other end of the country?" Dean summed up the story of Michael Surry.
"That's in the nutshell." George agreed. “Although when you put it that way it does seem odd.”
“Uh-huh. So do you know how to contact him in LA?” Maybe this Surry guy would be able to shed some light to the situation, or at least answer some puzzling questions that George hadn’t bothered to answer.
“We were never close. We didn’t keep in touch after the move. Within weeks of selling the land to us, he had packed up his stuff and caught a flight to LA. We didn’t even know he had left the state until he sent a postcard. It’s been radio silence ever since.”
Stumped, Dean tried another tack. “Did he ever act strangely whenever he came over? Or at anytime at all?”
George took a minute to answer. “No, like I said, he hid himself even more after his wife’s death, but other than that I thought he was pretty normal. I was not close to him, so I couldn’t say if he was acting stranger than normal.” He turned to his children. They shrugged, knowing less than their father.
A dead end, right here.
Lela Adams, Annie's niece-slash-assistant, was twenty-five, a Washington native who upped and move to Florida a year ago after she resigned from her job as a doctor's personal assistant. There didn't seem to be bad blood between she and her previous employer, from what Sam could glean from a hurried phone call he'd made to the doctor's office.
Personality-wise, he was hard-pressed to find anything he disliked about her, except maybe for the unabashed enthusiasm she had at the mention of his brother. Then again, maybe it was just an act, meant to deflect herself from suspicion.
"Dean didn't disturb me at all; in fact, he helped me wipe down the sliding doors that connect the stairs to the garage, and he was really thorough too."
She had stopped vacuuming when Sam came into the living room, and was now seated on the couch grinning expectantly at him. He supposed it was a nice change from all the weeping or suspicious interviews he had conducted over the years. She seemed almost too eager to help, and Sam could use all the help he could get.
He cleared his throat discreetly. "Well, that's my brother alright. So, you can't think of anything strange happening since you started working here?" He tried to get the conversation back on track.
"No, but I’ve only been here for about a year, so if there was anything weird before then I don't know about it."
“I got to know that you got the job from Annie. She’s your aunt, is that correct?” Dean had told him about the conversation he had with Lela the previous day. Sam wasn’t sure if it was significant or simply an interesting footnote.
“Oh yes! I moved here in Florida about three months ago, right after I quit my P.A job in Washington. My boss was nice, but the job was a bit too stressful for me, and anyway I wanted a change of scenery, you know. Annie was always telling me how nice it was here. So, after a month here, I was still finding a job, when Annie asked if I wanted to work here for a little while. I came for an interview, George liked me and now here I am.”
So far, everything was as he had discovered. Sam decided to push her a little bit. "So you have no trouble with your work so far? Maybe George is pushing you too hard, Trinity and Skylar giving you trouble?"
The dark-haired girl shook her head. "No, everyone here has been really nice. And although this isn't my dream job - I mean, who dreams of cleaning people's houses for a living, right, - it pays well, accommodation is included and the work isn't difficult."
Lela must be one of those perennially happy-go-lucky girls who don’t mind any job as long as it pays the bills. And it doesn't look like she's guilty of sending those things.
"Great, thanks Lela. You've been a great help." Sam stood up. “I’ll let you get back to your work.”
"You're welcome.” She turned her focus towards the machine to turn it on.
Sam was well on his way from the room when he heard his name being called and he twisted his head. Lela was at the doorway.
“Sam, can I ask if Dean is seeing anyone?"
Oh great.
Dean moved away from the topic of Michael Surry to that of the events leading to the attacks.
"So let's get back to what you guys were doing on the days of the attacks. We’re trying to figure out the trigger of the attacks on both days. Can you think of anything unusual you did? Something that you don't normally do, something you don't normally see, maybe you went the same place both days?"
“You think we might have encountered whoever it is that’s doing the sending?” Trinity arched an eyebrow, questioning.
Dean nodded. “It’s a possibility.”
Skylar volunteered. "I was at home the first time it happened, trying to build a model airplane all afternoon, and I stayed home the whole day. I remembered that because the model is still not finished. I was also at home the day the second attack occurred, but I don't think I did anything odd. I spent the time doing homework and making a list for school supplies that I need to get before school reopens."
"Okay, thanks Sky.” Dean turned his attention to Trinity. “What about you, Trinity?"
Dean encouraged the nineteen-year old to speak up.
"I went to Mom's garden." The girl's soft tone was a confession. Dean guessed their mother was a sore subject. He could relate.
"On the day of the second attack, I went to visit Mom’s garden.” Trinity reiterated. “Just to clear my mind, you know? I was missing her badly that day, so I went there after lunch, and stayed there till past dinner. I asked Brian for some tools to do some weeding, general gardening stuff. Brian would normally ask one of the part-time gardeners to tidy it up, but I told him I'd do it. After I was done I returned the tools, went to the kitchen to make a sandwich for myself, and stayed in my room, reading."
Dean had a feeling that info was significant to the case. "Was there any particular reason why were you missing your mum that particular day?"
Her father supplied the answer. "That was my fault. I told the children that we should go on a holiday with Dr. Lewis, maybe go back with her to England." George paused, his eyes growing sadder. "Sharon's last wish was to go to London with the children to visit the Buckingham Palace and ride on the London Eye. She kept on talking about it, but she passed away before we could go."
“I see." Nothing seemed adequate enough for Dean to reply to that statement.
George huffed out a small laugh. "Yeah, me too." He reached over to plant a kiss on his daughter's hair and threw an arm over his son's shoulders. "Anyway, the children objected to the trip, and I could see Trin getting more upset, so I called Sue to let her know that we shouldn't be booking those flights and hotel rooms so soon."
He went on, his face sobering. "That was also the topic of uh, disagreement that we had yesterday. She practically insisted that if the kids didn't want to, both of us could fly off together, but I refused."
"You can, you know. Go to London, just the two of you." Skylar said, looking up to meet his father's eyes.
George pulled Skylar closer. "I'm happier having the both of you with us, trust me." He addressed Dean again. "Anyway, that plan was put on the back burner for now, and Sue wasn't happy. I wasn’t sure how long you were going to be here, so I told her that both you and Sam will be around, maybe for another week or so, and I wouldn’t accompany her to Chicago on Friday."
Dean winced internally. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. No matter how awesome the accommodations were, he would have cabin fever. Hell, he would go mad if they were still there by the end of the week.
“Weren’t you also arguing with her on the phone that Thursday, Dad?” Trinity spoke up suddenly, eyebrows furrowing. “I seemed to remember you were brooding all day long.”
George grimaced. “Yes, but that was a different misunderstanding. Remember the tennis bracelet I got you for your birthday last month? Sue found it in my coat pocket when we were having dinner at her place. She thought it was for her, but then she saw you wearing it. She said it wasn’t a big deal, but then she refused to answer my calls for two days.”
Dean snorted, and nearby, Skylar giggled. Trinity groaned.
“You mean the diamond one? No wonder she kept looking at my hands that day!”
George shrugged. “Yeah, well, that’s over now. I bought her a nice wristwatch. She likes it.”
Trinity shook her head, not convinced. “You should have brought her another one for her.”
“Maybe the next time,” her father said, dismissing the matter.
After managing to get away from Lela by profusely promising that he would ask Dean about his dating status, Sam stepped out of the house to track Brian down, and after half an hour of wandering aimlessly, found him around the tree house belonging to the youngest Frances. Dean was right, the tree house didn't even look like a tree house. It looked like a house, period.
There was a set of stairs from the ground leading up. Not wooden slabs cut out and nailed to the trunk, but actual stairs, complete with railings, painted brown to match the whole tone of the tree house. The exterior of the house was also painted brown, and there was an opening big enough to be a door and a smaller square which Sam took to be a window. The entire structure looked new.
The groundskeeper was at the base of the tree with a pair of shears that gleamed in the evening light. He cleared his throat, because it was never a good idea to startle anyone who was holding anything sharp.
"Hey Brian. Do you need some help?"
"Sam. Give me a second. I need to prune this tree, the branches are going into Skylar’s tree house.” Sam watched him trim the branches and got rid of some of the leaves.
Of the three staff members he thought Brian would be the most probable person to be doing the sending. Judging by the reception they got last night when they arrived at the hotel, it was obvious that he was concerned about the Frances, but that he wasn't entirely comfortable with the Winchesters' presences. Who knew, he might be harboring some dark secret within him.
Brian Gibbs had been the groundskeeper for the family for the last ten years, and he was the longest-staying employee among the three of them. Previously, he had his own landscaping company, which he closed down after he couldn't keep enough money to keep it afloat. Sam wondered if he'd ever resented working for another person after being his own boss, and if he'd ever begrudged George Frances for being his employer.
"Alright, I’m done. What can I do for you, Sam?" Brian asked as he put down the shears to pay more attention to the younger Winchester.
"You know that I’m trying to find out more about the attacks right?” He knew Brian had overheard his discussion with Dean in the hotel room yesterday; they didn't bother to lower their voices.
Brian nodded, his face serious. “I’m trying to go at it from another angle. Have you ever come across any rare, unusual things while you’re working here? Or have anything weird happen, especially recently?" He didn't bother asking if Brian loved his work or his employer.
"Not really. This job is pretty routine, and George treats his staff like family."
"I understand you employ part-time gardeners here?"
"Yup, George said I could get some people to help me with the garden a couple of times a week, but I am the one overseeing them. Not so many hassles that way, and the schedules aren't exactly fixed. They come in maybe twice a week to handle the major mowing and some odd jobs."
Sam thought about that for a moment. They might have to widen the suspect pool, but then, they hadn’t seen any of the part-time gardeners, so maybe that wasn’t necessary.
"I see. So have you ever noticed if any of the people you employ have an unnatural interest over the family?"
Brian thought about it for a minute. "Can't say I have. The boys who come in here are serious about their work, and besides, it's not like George is a celebrity, and I do know that the company from where I get the boys from handle celeb homes all the time. Trinity and Skylar are away from the home for most of the year, and they are more interested in seeing Lindsay Lohan or Miley Cyrus."
Sam nodded his head, holding back a sigh. It looked like another dead end. "Alright, thanks so much for your time."
He turned to go, and was quite a ways away when he remembered another question. He turned back to Brian, who thankfully hadn’t resumed his pruning.
"Sorry Brian, I have another question. Do you know anything about the land that George purchased from Mr. Surry three years ago? I noticed there wasn't anything growing there except grass. I was surprised that there aren’t at least trees growing in the area."
Brian nodded his head. "Yeah, it was a surprise to all of us. Trin wanted to expand her mother's garden, you know, since it was right at the edge of the land. But everything that we had tried to plant died, which was a surprise. Have you seen that grass? It grows so fast we had to cut it every weeks. Anyway, after nearly a year we all gave up and George decided to stick with the grass."
"Huh. Isn't that weird?"
Brian shrugged, seeming unconcerned. "It's been known to happen, although it is pretty unusual. We even asked Dr. Lewis if that had ever happened before, but she had no idea."
Sam was puzzled. "You asked Dr. Lewis because she was a scientist?"
"No, we asked her because it was her brother used to own that piece of land. Selling that piece of the property to George was the last thing he did before he changed the title deed and sold the rest of his property to her."
Dean was getting nowhere.
So far it was a dead end on both the Michael Surry part and finding any similarities during the days when the attacks took place. Feeling maybe he might have missed something, he decided to change tack.
"Can you think of anyone who might want to harm you? Maybe they're jealous of your wealth, your lifestyle..." Dean asked the Frances.
The three of them looked at each other, and Skylar and Trinity shook their heads.
"Most of our classmates at school are as rich, if not richer than us. They don't need to be jealous," Trinity explained.
Skylar picked up where his sister left off. "I'm also not a very outstanding person, what threat can I possibly be to anyone?"
"You'd be surprised," Dean said dryly, thinking of all the times during his childhood that he got into fights and trouble because someone else thought he was a threat to them, to their social status or their girlfriends.
Skylar just shook his head, looking bewildered. Dean turned to face George.
"I've never snatched a job away from another company by using underhanded means, and neither has another company taken any contracts from me. We bid on the same projects, but around here there was enough to go around, even with the recession."
"How about closer to home? Any of your neighbors resent you for getting the piece of land that they want? Like the new owner who bought the Surry house. Were they angry that part of their land was sold to you just before they bought it?" Dean asked.
George gave Dean a wry grin. "The new owner is Sue. She was Michael Surry's sister who came down from London to stay with him after Madeline died. In fact, according to Michael, Sue was the one who persuaded him to sell the land to us."
Ahah. Dean felt like an important piece of the puzzle had slotted into place.
He prodded for more information. "So you met Dr. Lewis when she came down to care for her brother after his wife died?"
George shook his head. "No, it was the year before. She came down for a holiday, and Michael threw a party and invited us."
"She was the one who came over to tell us that Michael had left the state to go to L.A.," Skylar said. He paused, then added, "She said that Michael wanted to leave just like that but she told him that he shouldn't make us worry about him."
"So you never really saw Michael leaving, but you based it on Dr. Lewis' words?" Dean wanted to know.
"But why would she want to lie about something like that?" Trinity asked.
Why indeed. I think I've just found our main suspect.
Sam and Dean met at the top of the staircase leading to the hallway where their room was situated, and both started talking at the same time.
"Dude, it's Dr. Lewis."
Take last step to PART 5
Armed with background information for each of the staff, Sam made his decision to start with Annie, the cook slash general housekeeper. Sam found her in the kitchen, in hopes that the familiar place would not put her on the defensive. She was stirring something in a pot, and the whole kitchen smelled of tomatoes.
There was nothing provocative or interesting in Annie Bosco's life of sixty years. She started out as a teacher at a public school in Kansas, then resigned to take a post at an all-girls' private school in New York. She worked her way up to principal, and retired five years ago. She had been with the Frances ever since.
In the personal side, both her parents passed away ten years ago, her three siblings were married and she had several nieces and nephews. Her assistant housekeeper, Lela Adams, was one of them. There were no significant others, and nothing else indicated that she might have a grudge against the Frances. But Sam knew appearances can be deceiving.
Annie looked up from stirring the pot when he came in. Sam smiled at her, flashing his dimples, and she took a moment to return it, a little less brightly than his own.
“Sam, what can I do for you?” Her tone was not encouraging.
“Hey Annie. Do you have a minute to spare?” Sam was always nervous when it comes to interviewing people like Annie, who had that air of a person that knew everything that was going on around her, and would know if she was being lied to. Additionally, the housekeeper still looked like the former principal that she was, stern to her students but secretly was fond of all of them, even the rowdy ones.
Alright, it’s possible I’ve been reading too many Mallory Towers when I was a kid. Dean would laugh himself sick if he knew what I was thinking.
“Sure. Hold on a minute.” She covered the pot and turned down the flames of the stove, then turned back to Sam. “Have a seat at the island, I’ll pour us some lemonade.”
“You don’t have to bother…” Sam began but Annie was already fetching the glasses and opening the large refrigerator door. While Annie was pouring out the drink, Sam took a good look at the kitchen. He had ventured in here to do an EMF sweep - was it only yesterday? Felt like a long time ago - but he didn’t linger.
The kitchen looked like something out of a magazine. The room was enormous, with a color scheme of dark browns, and pale yellows. Everything looked expensive, from the intricately cut tile pattern on the floor, to the yards of material that had been used to drape and swag the wide windows. Little details like fresh flowers in bottle vases and herbs in little planters by the side of the counters gave the place a personal touch. The huge island in the middle was clearly an antique buffet of some sort, refitted with new drawer pulls and a thick granite top. The appliances were stainless steel and modern, with numerous buttons and digital screens. Sam made a mental note not to touch anything because everything there was intimidating, person included.
“Thanks, Annie.” Sam took the glass offered to him, and downed half of it in one gulp. It was refreshing. He took a smaller sip and placed it on the island counter, and faced Annie who was sitting calmly opposite him, with a glass of her own. Sam decided to start with small talk and worked his way into a serious one.
"So Annie, how long have you been working here?"
"Almost thirteen years now, just before Skylar was born. But that’s not what you want to know, is it?"
Sam was taken aback, having his own spotlight turned back to him. "Excuse me?"
"You don't want to know anything about me, not really. Or maybe you already know, but you pretended not to know. Either way, it doesn’t matter. What you really want to know is if I know anything about the attacks plaguing Trin."
Sam waited a beat before answering, observing the woman in front of him. His gut instinct told him she wasn't the one he was looking for, the one that had been doing the sending, but he had been tricked before. He decided to be straightforward about the attacks though, because there might be something that could help them crack the case open.
"Yeah, you are right. I'm actually trying to help to stop the attacks on Trinity,” he said, purposefully editing Dean's attack out. “Is there anything you can think of that can help us?”
She studied him for a moment, face serious, and then gave a small nod. "I might. You know that the children's mother, Sharon, died about three years ago?” Sam nodded, and she continued. “Before she died, God rest her soul, she confided in me that she was 'disturbed' at night, hearing voices calling her name, and waking up with scratches on her limbs and back without knowing how she got them, said she was always feeling watched by someone. I thought it was because of her cancer spreading in her brain causing hallucinations or something like that. But now, with Trin going through almost the same thing, I can't help but wonder if there was really something to her words."
Interesting. Annie had corroborated Brian's story to Dean about the late Mrs. Frances being disturbed by something just before her death.
"Annie, did Sharon say anything else about whatever that was disturbing her?"
Annie shook her head, frowning, making little curls escape from her tight bun. "Just in general terms. She might have thought she was mistaken, or maybe the feelings ceased, because she only told me that once, and it was never brought up again. Shortly after that she took a turn for the worse, and had all but forgotten what she said, until the attacks." Her face was pensive, perhaps thinking that there might be something she could have done that might have made a difference.
"I see." Impulsively, he asked a follow-up question. “Do you believe in the supernatural, Annie?”
Annie laughed, her demeanor thawing. “I’m an old woman, Sam. I’ve seen things that defy logic, and others that simply can’t be explained except with the supernatural. Trin’s attacks cannot be explained by logic, so when you’ve eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”
Sam smiled. “Holmes did really say it best.” The housekeeper smiled back.
Annie had nothing else to add to that particular topic, and with that out of the way, Sam should now cast the bait to find out where she stood was in regards to his brother. "By the way, I apologize for Dean disrupting your work yesterday. He has a boundless interest when it comes to pie, and it matches his appetite. "
Annie beamed, transforming her face from merely jovial to very motherly. "Oh no, it's all right! I'm thrilled he likes them. It's always nice to meet someone who's interested in my baking! Kids these days only want to buy that pre-made stuff for convenience. If you boys are staying here longer, I could teach him how to bake one.”
Sam chuckled at the mental image of Dean in an apron and a face full of flour. “He might blow up the kitchen, Annie." Sam finished his drink and stood up from his chair, a signal that the interview was over. "Thanks for talking to me, Annie.”
“It's not a hardship, Sam,” Annie replied, and stood up as well, gathering the glasses to bring them to the sink.
Sam asked, “Do you know where Lela might be at the moment?"
The housekeeper thought for a moment. "She should be cleaning the living room right now. You should be able to find her there."
"Thank you." As Sam reached the doorway of the kitchen, he paused, and turned back.
"I’m curious. How did you know I'm investigating the attacks? Did George tell you?"
The plump woman laughed. “I was a teacher, and then the head for a private school for twenty years, Sam. I know when kids are telling lies, and when they're not. It's a gift." She winked, and turned around to resume her duties.
Sam smirked. His imagination wasn’t off the mark after all.
Dean took over the laptop after Sam left, and started researching the former neighbor's history through the internet, but after an hour of trawling around, he could only find the bare minimum, so he decided to ask the Frances what they knew about their ex-neighbor, and took it from there. With that half-plan, he went searching for a family member and found all of them in George's study.
"Dean." Well, at least Skylar was happy to see him, smiling when he opened the door. The other two people in the room were looking at him with wary and weary eyes.
"Is it time to ask us more questions again?" Trinity asked monotonously.
Dean favored her with a brief smile. "I'm afraid so. I'll try to keep them as short as possible."
"Do you need to ask each of us separately, because I can go..." George sat back down when Dean gestured to him to stop.
"No, all of you can be here together. I think it might be better, actually.” Having them here at the same time would save him some trouble of hunting each later on.
Dean chose to perch himself on the edge of the desk across everyone while they sat on the couch; he wanted to be able to see their eyes to know if they were hiding something.
“Now, I know this might sound unrelated, but bear with me. What can you tell me about your former neighbor, the one who sold you that piece of land just past the garden?"
All three exchanged surprised looks. "You mean Michael Surry? What has he got to do with what's happening?" George was frowning, trying to come up with a connection.
"For the moment it’s only an instinct." Dean admitted. "We're exploring options. We found out that he didn't want to sell that land for the longest time, when he changed his mind suddenly. That sounded hinky, and I was wondering if you asked him for a reason."
George shook his head thoughtfully. "I didn't think much of it. It was only a few months after Sharon died and I was still half-mad with grief. He came to the house one day saying that he had an unexpected urge to move, and offered to sell me that land before he put his house on the market. I bought it, in memory of Sharon, but not much has been done to it. Brian cuts the grass at regular intervals, to keep it neat. We wanted to extend the garden at first, but the land wasn't arable or fertile enough, so we just left it as it is."
Dean nodded his head, accepting the explanation. "I see. What did his wife say about the sale? He was married, right?" That much he had gotten from the records.
"He was. His wife died, around five, six years ago. She fell down the stairs of the house and cracked her head. The coroner said death was instant." Trinity continued with the story. He saw Trinity hesitate, before speaking carefully.
“We’re not very close to them, to be honest. They had no kids, so Skylar and I had no reason to go over. Some years we had Fourth of July barbecues, and we invited them over, and I remember one year Mrs. Surry came wearing a floaty white dress, with flowers in her hair and barefoot.”
“She was a hippie, they both were.” George volunteered, a smile on his face as he remembered his old neighbors. “Madeline came from old money; her grandfather struck oil somewhere on his land, so neither them had reason to hold down jobs. They made money by some smart investing, and they devoted most of their time to charity work. When she died, Michael came apart.” He paused, smile dimming.
“Sharon was still alive then, she hadn’t been diagnosed with cancer yet, and all four of us went to the funeral. Not many people were there, it was a small one. After her death, Michael became more hermit-like, venturing out only when necessary. I tried to visit a couple of times, bring him out for drinks, invite him over. I never broached the subject of buying that land again after Madeline’s death.”
“Did he seem to be especially eager to sell the land off to you?”
“If by eager you mean willing to sell below the valuation price, then yes, he was.” George paused. “Is anything on the land that’s connected to what’s happening to my daughter?”
“We don’t know yet. Every little bit of info helps.” There might be something on that land, maybe something connected to the person doing the summoning and sending.
Dean thought through what he had learned so far.
"So his wife died, he continued to stay in the house, and then when Sharon died he had an epiphany, decided to move on and sold the land to you at a dirt cheap price, then disappeared to the other end of the country?" Dean summed up the story of Michael Surry.
"That's in the nutshell." George agreed. “Although when you put it that way it does seem odd.”
“Uh-huh. So do you know how to contact him in LA?” Maybe this Surry guy would be able to shed some light to the situation, or at least answer some puzzling questions that George hadn’t bothered to answer.
“We were never close. We didn’t keep in touch after the move. Within weeks of selling the land to us, he had packed up his stuff and caught a flight to LA. We didn’t even know he had left the state until he sent a postcard. It’s been radio silence ever since.”
Stumped, Dean tried another tack. “Did he ever act strangely whenever he came over? Or at anytime at all?”
George took a minute to answer. “No, like I said, he hid himself even more after his wife’s death, but other than that I thought he was pretty normal. I was not close to him, so I couldn’t say if he was acting stranger than normal.” He turned to his children. They shrugged, knowing less than their father.
A dead end, right here.
Lela Adams, Annie's niece-slash-assistant, was twenty-five, a Washington native who upped and move to Florida a year ago after she resigned from her job as a doctor's personal assistant. There didn't seem to be bad blood between she and her previous employer, from what Sam could glean from a hurried phone call he'd made to the doctor's office.
Personality-wise, he was hard-pressed to find anything he disliked about her, except maybe for the unabashed enthusiasm she had at the mention of his brother. Then again, maybe it was just an act, meant to deflect herself from suspicion.
"Dean didn't disturb me at all; in fact, he helped me wipe down the sliding doors that connect the stairs to the garage, and he was really thorough too."
She had stopped vacuuming when Sam came into the living room, and was now seated on the couch grinning expectantly at him. He supposed it was a nice change from all the weeping or suspicious interviews he had conducted over the years. She seemed almost too eager to help, and Sam could use all the help he could get.
He cleared his throat discreetly. "Well, that's my brother alright. So, you can't think of anything strange happening since you started working here?" He tried to get the conversation back on track.
"No, but I’ve only been here for about a year, so if there was anything weird before then I don't know about it."
“I got to know that you got the job from Annie. She’s your aunt, is that correct?” Dean had told him about the conversation he had with Lela the previous day. Sam wasn’t sure if it was significant or simply an interesting footnote.
“Oh yes! I moved here in Florida about three months ago, right after I quit my P.A job in Washington. My boss was nice, but the job was a bit too stressful for me, and anyway I wanted a change of scenery, you know. Annie was always telling me how nice it was here. So, after a month here, I was still finding a job, when Annie asked if I wanted to work here for a little while. I came for an interview, George liked me and now here I am.”
So far, everything was as he had discovered. Sam decided to push her a little bit. "So you have no trouble with your work so far? Maybe George is pushing you too hard, Trinity and Skylar giving you trouble?"
The dark-haired girl shook her head. "No, everyone here has been really nice. And although this isn't my dream job - I mean, who dreams of cleaning people's houses for a living, right, - it pays well, accommodation is included and the work isn't difficult."
Lela must be one of those perennially happy-go-lucky girls who don’t mind any job as long as it pays the bills. And it doesn't look like she's guilty of sending those things.
"Great, thanks Lela. You've been a great help." Sam stood up. “I’ll let you get back to your work.”
"You're welcome.” She turned her focus towards the machine to turn it on.
Sam was well on his way from the room when he heard his name being called and he twisted his head. Lela was at the doorway.
“Sam, can I ask if Dean is seeing anyone?"
Oh great.
Dean moved away from the topic of Michael Surry to that of the events leading to the attacks.
"So let's get back to what you guys were doing on the days of the attacks. We’re trying to figure out the trigger of the attacks on both days. Can you think of anything unusual you did? Something that you don't normally do, something you don't normally see, maybe you went the same place both days?"
“You think we might have encountered whoever it is that’s doing the sending?” Trinity arched an eyebrow, questioning.
Dean nodded. “It’s a possibility.”
Skylar volunteered. "I was at home the first time it happened, trying to build a model airplane all afternoon, and I stayed home the whole day. I remembered that because the model is still not finished. I was also at home the day the second attack occurred, but I don't think I did anything odd. I spent the time doing homework and making a list for school supplies that I need to get before school reopens."
"Okay, thanks Sky.” Dean turned his attention to Trinity. “What about you, Trinity?"
Dean encouraged the nineteen-year old to speak up.
"I went to Mom's garden." The girl's soft tone was a confession. Dean guessed their mother was a sore subject. He could relate.
"On the day of the second attack, I went to visit Mom’s garden.” Trinity reiterated. “Just to clear my mind, you know? I was missing her badly that day, so I went there after lunch, and stayed there till past dinner. I asked Brian for some tools to do some weeding, general gardening stuff. Brian would normally ask one of the part-time gardeners to tidy it up, but I told him I'd do it. After I was done I returned the tools, went to the kitchen to make a sandwich for myself, and stayed in my room, reading."
Dean had a feeling that info was significant to the case. "Was there any particular reason why were you missing your mum that particular day?"
Her father supplied the answer. "That was my fault. I told the children that we should go on a holiday with Dr. Lewis, maybe go back with her to England." George paused, his eyes growing sadder. "Sharon's last wish was to go to London with the children to visit the Buckingham Palace and ride on the London Eye. She kept on talking about it, but she passed away before we could go."
“I see." Nothing seemed adequate enough for Dean to reply to that statement.
George huffed out a small laugh. "Yeah, me too." He reached over to plant a kiss on his daughter's hair and threw an arm over his son's shoulders. "Anyway, the children objected to the trip, and I could see Trin getting more upset, so I called Sue to let her know that we shouldn't be booking those flights and hotel rooms so soon."
He went on, his face sobering. "That was also the topic of uh, disagreement that we had yesterday. She practically insisted that if the kids didn't want to, both of us could fly off together, but I refused."
"You can, you know. Go to London, just the two of you." Skylar said, looking up to meet his father's eyes.
George pulled Skylar closer. "I'm happier having the both of you with us, trust me." He addressed Dean again. "Anyway, that plan was put on the back burner for now, and Sue wasn't happy. I wasn’t sure how long you were going to be here, so I told her that both you and Sam will be around, maybe for another week or so, and I wouldn’t accompany her to Chicago on Friday."
Dean winced internally. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. No matter how awesome the accommodations were, he would have cabin fever. Hell, he would go mad if they were still there by the end of the week.
“Weren’t you also arguing with her on the phone that Thursday, Dad?” Trinity spoke up suddenly, eyebrows furrowing. “I seemed to remember you were brooding all day long.”
George grimaced. “Yes, but that was a different misunderstanding. Remember the tennis bracelet I got you for your birthday last month? Sue found it in my coat pocket when we were having dinner at her place. She thought it was for her, but then she saw you wearing it. She said it wasn’t a big deal, but then she refused to answer my calls for two days.”
Dean snorted, and nearby, Skylar giggled. Trinity groaned.
“You mean the diamond one? No wonder she kept looking at my hands that day!”
George shrugged. “Yeah, well, that’s over now. I bought her a nice wristwatch. She likes it.”
Trinity shook her head, not convinced. “You should have brought her another one for her.”
“Maybe the next time,” her father said, dismissing the matter.
After managing to get away from Lela by profusely promising that he would ask Dean about his dating status, Sam stepped out of the house to track Brian down, and after half an hour of wandering aimlessly, found him around the tree house belonging to the youngest Frances. Dean was right, the tree house didn't even look like a tree house. It looked like a house, period.
There was a set of stairs from the ground leading up. Not wooden slabs cut out and nailed to the trunk, but actual stairs, complete with railings, painted brown to match the whole tone of the tree house. The exterior of the house was also painted brown, and there was an opening big enough to be a door and a smaller square which Sam took to be a window. The entire structure looked new.
The groundskeeper was at the base of the tree with a pair of shears that gleamed in the evening light. He cleared his throat, because it was never a good idea to startle anyone who was holding anything sharp.
"Hey Brian. Do you need some help?"
"Sam. Give me a second. I need to prune this tree, the branches are going into Skylar’s tree house.” Sam watched him trim the branches and got rid of some of the leaves.
Of the three staff members he thought Brian would be the most probable person to be doing the sending. Judging by the reception they got last night when they arrived at the hotel, it was obvious that he was concerned about the Frances, but that he wasn't entirely comfortable with the Winchesters' presences. Who knew, he might be harboring some dark secret within him.
Brian Gibbs had been the groundskeeper for the family for the last ten years, and he was the longest-staying employee among the three of them. Previously, he had his own landscaping company, which he closed down after he couldn't keep enough money to keep it afloat. Sam wondered if he'd ever resented working for another person after being his own boss, and if he'd ever begrudged George Frances for being his employer.
"Alright, I’m done. What can I do for you, Sam?" Brian asked as he put down the shears to pay more attention to the younger Winchester.
"You know that I’m trying to find out more about the attacks right?” He knew Brian had overheard his discussion with Dean in the hotel room yesterday; they didn't bother to lower their voices.
Brian nodded, his face serious. “I’m trying to go at it from another angle. Have you ever come across any rare, unusual things while you’re working here? Or have anything weird happen, especially recently?" He didn't bother asking if Brian loved his work or his employer.
"Not really. This job is pretty routine, and George treats his staff like family."
"I understand you employ part-time gardeners here?"
"Yup, George said I could get some people to help me with the garden a couple of times a week, but I am the one overseeing them. Not so many hassles that way, and the schedules aren't exactly fixed. They come in maybe twice a week to handle the major mowing and some odd jobs."
Sam thought about that for a moment. They might have to widen the suspect pool, but then, they hadn’t seen any of the part-time gardeners, so maybe that wasn’t necessary.
"I see. So have you ever noticed if any of the people you employ have an unnatural interest over the family?"
Brian thought about it for a minute. "Can't say I have. The boys who come in here are serious about their work, and besides, it's not like George is a celebrity, and I do know that the company from where I get the boys from handle celeb homes all the time. Trinity and Skylar are away from the home for most of the year, and they are more interested in seeing Lindsay Lohan or Miley Cyrus."
Sam nodded his head, holding back a sigh. It looked like another dead end. "Alright, thanks so much for your time."
He turned to go, and was quite a ways away when he remembered another question. He turned back to Brian, who thankfully hadn’t resumed his pruning.
"Sorry Brian, I have another question. Do you know anything about the land that George purchased from Mr. Surry three years ago? I noticed there wasn't anything growing there except grass. I was surprised that there aren’t at least trees growing in the area."
Brian nodded his head. "Yeah, it was a surprise to all of us. Trin wanted to expand her mother's garden, you know, since it was right at the edge of the land. But everything that we had tried to plant died, which was a surprise. Have you seen that grass? It grows so fast we had to cut it every weeks. Anyway, after nearly a year we all gave up and George decided to stick with the grass."
"Huh. Isn't that weird?"
Brian shrugged, seeming unconcerned. "It's been known to happen, although it is pretty unusual. We even asked Dr. Lewis if that had ever happened before, but she had no idea."
Sam was puzzled. "You asked Dr. Lewis because she was a scientist?"
"No, we asked her because it was her brother used to own that piece of land. Selling that piece of the property to George was the last thing he did before he changed the title deed and sold the rest of his property to her."
Dean was getting nowhere.
So far it was a dead end on both the Michael Surry part and finding any similarities during the days when the attacks took place. Feeling maybe he might have missed something, he decided to change tack.
"Can you think of anyone who might want to harm you? Maybe they're jealous of your wealth, your lifestyle..." Dean asked the Frances.
The three of them looked at each other, and Skylar and Trinity shook their heads.
"Most of our classmates at school are as rich, if not richer than us. They don't need to be jealous," Trinity explained.
Skylar picked up where his sister left off. "I'm also not a very outstanding person, what threat can I possibly be to anyone?"
"You'd be surprised," Dean said dryly, thinking of all the times during his childhood that he got into fights and trouble because someone else thought he was a threat to them, to their social status or their girlfriends.
Skylar just shook his head, looking bewildered. Dean turned to face George.
"I've never snatched a job away from another company by using underhanded means, and neither has another company taken any contracts from me. We bid on the same projects, but around here there was enough to go around, even with the recession."
"How about closer to home? Any of your neighbors resent you for getting the piece of land that they want? Like the new owner who bought the Surry house. Were they angry that part of their land was sold to you just before they bought it?" Dean asked.
George gave Dean a wry grin. "The new owner is Sue. She was Michael Surry's sister who came down from London to stay with him after Madeline died. In fact, according to Michael, Sue was the one who persuaded him to sell the land to us."
Ahah. Dean felt like an important piece of the puzzle had slotted into place.
He prodded for more information. "So you met Dr. Lewis when she came down to care for her brother after his wife died?"
George shook his head. "No, it was the year before. She came down for a holiday, and Michael threw a party and invited us."
"She was the one who came over to tell us that Michael had left the state to go to L.A.," Skylar said. He paused, then added, "She said that Michael wanted to leave just like that but she told him that he shouldn't make us worry about him."
"So you never really saw Michael leaving, but you based it on Dr. Lewis' words?" Dean wanted to know.
"But why would she want to lie about something like that?" Trinity asked.
Why indeed. I think I've just found our main suspect.
Sam and Dean met at the top of the staircase leading to the hallway where their room was situated, and both started talking at the same time.
"Dude, it's Dr. Lewis."
Take last step to PART 5