Takes place after my story Head Trip.

Thanks to Midge for the Beta

CHAPTER TWO
Insufficient Evidence

The light switch flicked on without warning. Sam blinked as the bright glare woke him up. He rubbed his eyes adjusting to the blaring light. He looked over to see his brother sitting on the other bed. Sam's laptop sat in front of his brother along with a newspaper and a couple books. Dean was at that moment looking through their father's journal, "Dean what are you doing?"

Dean didn't look up from his research, "looking for a job."

"In Dad's journal?" Sam sounded confused, "haven't we both read it from cover to cover more times than I can count?"

"True," Dean admitted yet he continued to leaf through the book.

"So why are you reading it again?" He sat up slowly in bed and looked at the clock. He sighed, "at 3:47..."

Dean ignored the time completely, "I couldn't find anything in the papers, or online," he paused and smirked, "well there was this one site." His eyes took on a dreamy look, but he quickly refocused, "It wasn't really a lead on a case. Still I bookmarked it."

"Dean, we've been through every page in Dad's journal. There's nothing in there." Sam stated flatly. He was frustrated, Dean still wasn't sleeping much. Which meant that Sam wasn't sleeping much. "Look aren't we kind of ignoring the case we should be working on. We should be hunting Lilith down."

Dean shut the journal sharply and looked as his brother, "Great idea and as soon as we have a clue where she or any of the seals are, I'd love to. But it's not like we've got any insider info."

"We have Ruby, and Castiel," Sam reminded the older hunter.

"Yeah, you're right. We have a demon who is totally trustworthy, and an angel who's not exactly chatty. Especially since we stepped on his toes and helped Anna get her grace back," he snapped at the younger man, "and to make matters worse we really have no clue how that all turned out either."

Sam shrugged, Dean was right. He hated to admit it but his older brother had a point.

"Look, it's not like any of them have been very informative, and until they decide to share, I say we do what we do best." Dean handed his brother his laptop, "We save people and hunt down some evil sons-of-bitches."

Sam took the laptop and watched as Dean opened the journal again. He gave up. There was no changing Dean's mind on this. And it wasn't like they had anything better to do at the moment; aside from sleeping. "Great and what fun filled case have you found?"

"Nothing yet. I told you, I'm still looking."

"Dean..." Sam closed the laptop laying it on the night table. He really wanted to go back to sleep. Lately he had to admit he had been wanting to spend more time sleeping since his run in with the Vetala. Dean was clearly ignoring his younger brother. Sam shook his head, "I'm going back to sleep, and turning off the light. We can find something in the morning."

Dean grabbed Sam's hand as it reached up to turn out the light, "Wait..."

"What?"

"These dates..." Dean pointed to a small group of dates scribbled in the margin. There was a small box drawn around them.

"So..."

Dean handed the book to his brother. Then pointed out, "they're every 20 years." He looked at Sam urging him to notice. "This month will be 20 years from the last date."

"It's probably a case Dad took care of..." Sam trailed off looking at the page. There was nothing else really there that seemed to be connected to the dates, beside a location written above them. "Plus it's not a lot to go on, all we have is dates and Jasper County, Iowa."

"Well there is one way to find out if it's something Dad already took care of..." He nudged the laptop toward his brother, "We do an internet search to see if we got something."

"What are you going to do?"

"Start packing ready for when you find something." Dean stood, as Sam reluctantly picked the laptop back up and started searching.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dean sat behind the driver's wheel. He had an air of accomplishment. They had been driving for only a few minutes. They had a case and he had been right. It would take several hours to get to their destination. He looked over at his younger brother. He couldn't help but have a slight smirk on his face.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Fine, I'll say it. You were right."

"You know it never gets old hearing that." Dean grinned and turned his attention back to the road.

"Yeah, I bet." There was more than a little sarcasm in Sam's voice.

"So fill me in, cause all you said back at the motel was that, I was in fact right. And we did have a case."

Sam looked down at his notepad. The information it contained, been scribbled during his research. "The first disappearance dates back to 1849. It's been like clock work, every 20 years, all have been during late November early December."

"Any connection with the victims?"

"Most were teens. Local authorities attribute it to a high runaway rate."

"And..."

"Well the kids are never found, just empty cars a day or two later. Usually out on old country roads. No sign of a struggle. It's like they just left the cars there, and all are within the same general area."

"Phantom hitchhiker? Woman in white?"

"I don't think so. They both tend to go after individuals who are alone. Most of these victims were with someone. Usually a couple or group of friends."

"Any witnesses or survivors?"

"One. Cathy Wilcox. Back in 1989 she snuck out with some friends. She came back they didn't. According to the police report she swears they were killed by a homicidal manic in a really creepy old house."

"And..."

"They never found the guy. They investigated the house, there was no sign the kids had even been there. No finger prints or anything. In fact no sign anyone had been there in quite some time."

"Could be a haunting. Maybe cleaning up after itself. We've known them to do it before."

"True."

"So where's the house?"

"No mention of an address. It's just referred to as the old Turner place."

"Great. So where to next Sherlock?"

* * * * * * * * * *

The front door opened, "Yes." The slightly older woman stood in the door way looking at the two men dressed in suits before her. "May I help you?"

"Cathy Wilcox?" The taller man asked.

"Yes," she looked at them with apprehension.

"I'm Agent Tipton and this is Agent Halford." The shorter man supplied as they both flipped open their badges. Dean had to work try really hard to keep a straight face when calling Sam, Halford. He could see the slight eye roll from his brother. "We'd like to talk to you a moment."

She looked at the FBI badges before her, slightly confused and concerned, "What is this about?"

"We recently uncovered a possible lead in a missing persons case you were involved in 20 years ago. We'd like to ask you a few questions if you don't mind." Sam stated as he and his brother put away their badges.

Her face paled at their request but she nodded slightly as she pushed open the screen door.

* * * * * * * * * *

The group entered the living room, Cathy motioned for the two men to have a seat on the sofa, then she took a seat in a nearby chair. "Why all the sudden interest? And why come to me?" She asked. To be honest the whole thing had her slightly uneasy. She hated even thinking about that night.

"Like we said, there may be some new leads in the case. We wanted to see if there was anything you could tell us about that night." Sam leaned forward slightly as he spoke.

"It was a long time ago... besides I don't care what anyone says. My story isn't changing. It happened exactly like I wrote in my statement."

"Would you mind going over it one more time?" Dean asked abruptly. He noticed Sam's slightly icy glare. Dean was forgetting to be sensitive again. He gave a quick glance back to his brother. To be honest Sam should be used to it by now.

"We snuck out, went to the old Turner place on Route 7. It was way back off the road. The guys thought it would be creepy and that creepy equaled romantic. High school thing I guess." She took a deep breath, she hated this. Hated that she could still remember it like it was yesterday. " I stayed in the car, because the place freaked me out. Mark left me the keys so I could listen to the radio. It started acting weird so I turned it off."

With the mention of the radio the boys exchanged looks but didn't interrupt the woman.

"That's when I heard Mark and Ashley screaming. Then I saw Ashley in the window upstairs...." The woman looked away shutting her eyes tightly a moment. "She was pulled away, there was so much blood..." She ran hand through her hair. "Then he came out of the front door heading toward the car. He was carrying -" she paused and took a deep breath, "Jeff's head. I freaked out. I just drove away as fast as I could."

"And you're sure about this?" Dean cut in.

"Do you think I could forget seeing my first boyfriend's severed head being carried by a maniac or my best friend getting killed and not being able to help her?"

"We're very sorry, it's just.." Sam began.

"I know they checked the house, no sign of them or any kind of struggle. They even accused me of drinking, or doing drugs. Even though the drug test screen came back negative." She tried to maintain her emotions but it was difficult. For the last 20 years she had the images burned in her mind. She had to face the families of her friends. Deal with the rumors and allegations. It had been hell for her. "Look I can't help you any more. That's all I know."

"Is there anything else you can remember about the house or after the incident?" Sam asked. He could tell she just wanted them to leave but they needed all the information they could get.

"No, not really. The house was creepy beyond all reason. I still won't even go down that road."

"Understandable," Sam tried to empathize with the woman. He began to stand, signally his brother to do the same. "We've taken up enough of your time." He reached out giving her a small business card. "If you think of anything at all, don't hesitate to call."

She walked the young men to the door, as they began to leave she stopped them, "There was one thing..."

Dean turned back to the woman "What?"

"There was this man. He showed up a few days after. He was looking for someone who had gone missing out that way. He thought it might be connected. What was his name?" She paused a moment racking her brain as the two men waited patiently, "It was John something... I think it was the name of a gun."

"Winchester?" Sam asked not even thinking about the possible ramifications of his question.

"Yeah, that was it. Wait was he... I mean is he involved in all of this?"

"We can't divulge any information about that right now." Dean covered. 'Great even in death Dad's getting blamed for murders.' he thought. "Thank you for the information. We need to be going."

She nodded and watched as the two men walked toward their car, before re-entering the house. She leaned against the front door, her mind still lost in the hellish memories. She looked down at the business card in her hand, then pushed it into her pocket.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Impala drove through the suburban streets, "Well it looks like Dad was here." Sam spoke looking over at his brother.

"Yeah but why didn't he write about any of it in his journal then?" Something wasn't sitting right with Dean. He had a weird feeling about this case.

"Maybe it was your typical salt and burn." Sam suggested.

"How many times is it ever really a typical salt and burn?" Dean looked over at his little brother, with an expression that said, 'yeah right.'

"True. But this might have been. I mean there haven't been any disappearances this year."

"Good point." Dean hated to admit it but Sam had a point. In all their research there had been nothing yet this year. Maybe John had handled the case.

Sam was actually somewhat glad. This turning out to be a dead case meant a night off for once. Dean was running himself ragged and to be truthful making Sam a little crazy in the process. "Look I say we get a room, call it a night. Then tomorrow you can go gung ho and find another case for us."

Dean reluctantly agreed, "alright." However he couldn't shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach. There had to be more to the story. Something their dad didn't want to write about. Part of him wanted to know what it was, and part of him really didn't.

* * * * * * * * * *