Supernatural--Cold Fire (24 page)

Melissa nodded. “But once he entered the nursery, the monitor… the sounds changed. Filled with static. I heard him yell and then lots of static.”

“If you didn’t hear her or see her upstairs or after—the fall,” Sam said, “how do you know it was a woman?”

“Because, when Kevin yelled, he said, ‘Get away from her, you freaky bitch!’” She finally turned around to stare at Sam, clutching the back of the nearest kitchen chair for support, almost as if she dared him to dispute her conclusion. “Would he say something like that if it wasn’t a woman?”

“No,” Sam said, but thought it only proved that Kevin believed it was a woman. Appearances, especially in a hunter’s line of work, could be deceiving. “Did you hear him say anything else?”

“Not really,” she said. “With all the static, I could hear him better from the stairwell, telling me to call the police. He fought with her… Kevin wasn’t a small man. He played college football. But she… she slammed him into the wall—so hard the house shook. And she never made a sound.”

“Do you have any idea how this woman could have gotten into your home?”

Melissa shook her head. “We were home all day,” she said. “With a newborn, we don’t get out much. I never saw any sign of an intruder.”

“You need to find this woman before she tries to steal another baby,” Melissa’s mother said. “Whoever she is, she’s a menace. And a murderer.”

“Why do you think she came to steal the child?” Castiel asked.

The woman startled, as if she’d forgotten Dean and Castiel stood a few feet away.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she said. “Kevin didn’t find her rooting through a jewelry box or looking for a wall safe. She was sneaking around in the damn nursery.”

Castiel came forward while the woman talked and took advantage of his proximity to examine the fussing baby. “Beautiful child,” he said, smiling.

The older woman returned the smile reflexively, with a grandmother’s pride. “She certainly is, aren’t you, dear?”

Sam noticed Castiel’s gaze shift toward the back of the infant’s neck. His smile faded abruptly and he caught Sam’s eye. “A word, Agent Rutherford?”

Nodding, Sam excused himself to both women and joined Castiel and Dean in the adjoining room. Castiel had taken out his phone and brought up a photo of another baby. Sam noticed what appeared to be a round rash on the nape of the infant’s neck, and closer inspection revealed several tiny puncture wounds, forming a partial circle outlining the rash. They’d already begun to heal by the time Dr. Hartwell had taken the photo.

“I haven’t had a chance to send you this image yet,” Castiel explained, his voice low enough that neither Melissa nor her mother could hear what he said. “The Barrows child has the same rash and marks on the back of her neck.”

“Whoever this woman is,” Dean said, “we now know she’s responsible for the murders
and
the attack on the Atherton baby.”

Before they left, Sam wanted to examine the nursery. Leaning through the archway into the kitchen he asked Melissa if she had any objections to them checking the room.

She shook her head, but added, “You won’t find anything. I don’t know how she got into the nursery, but she never came out through the door. I stood near the bottom of the stairs while Kevin… while he stopped her. She had to have gone out the window with… when he fell.”

Sam led the way up the steps. After Melissa rescued her infant daughter from the nursery, the police had blocked access to the room with an “X” of crime scene tape across the open doorway. From the hallway, they could see indentations where Kevin had been thrown bodily against the drywall, and blood splatter on the floor and curtains. But the crib was across the room. Ducking, Sam stepped through a gap in the tape and crossed the nursery, careful not to step in any blood stains.

He examined the mattress pad and the floor under the crib, looking for anything the intruder might have left behind—a slimy residue, a broken tooth—but other than a few strands of fine hair, his search proved fruitless. The baby monitor sat on a dresser facing the empty crib.

Sam spread his arms. “So she came here to what? Feed on the baby somehow while both parents were downstairs?”

“But didn’t notice the baby monitor,” Dean said. “They hear something.”

“The father interrupts… whatever she’s up to, and she guts him instead?”

“He defended his child,” Castiel said. “The woman fought back.”

“But he manages to wrestle her out the window,” Dean said. “Assuming Melissa’s correct and that’s how she exited the house.”

“So this time,” Sam said, “the attacker herself was surprised.”

“She must have a trigger,” Dean said. “The father was in the house, but instead of attacking and feeding on him, she goes after the baby.”

“She attacks the fathers when the mothers are still pregnant,” Sam said. “After childbirth, the babies become her target.”

“Or she has two options once the baby is born,” Dean said.

“Both times she’s… attached herself to an infant,” Castiel said, “the infant has survived.”

“She was interrupted both times,” Sam reminded him.

“You assume she’s only done this twice,” Castiel said ominously. “She may have attached herself to other infants without getting caught in the act.”

“You saying she means them no harm?” Dean asked.

“The rash and puncture wounds prove she is harming them,” Castiel said. “But somehow those wounds are healed within hours.”

“It’s a form of concealment,” Sam said. “If her visits go undetected, it allows her to return multiple times.”

“She kills the men,” Dean said. “But we have no idea what her endgame is with the babies.”

They descended the stairs, continuing their discussion in lowered voices as they approached the kitchen. Sam turned to Castiel. “Dr. Hartwell found nothing wrong with the Atherton boy, right?”

“Correct,” Castiel said. “Other than the rash and punctures that healed by morning. If she hadn’t stopped by to hear the nurse’s account, she never would have known about them.”

“Whatever she’s up to, it ain’t good,” Dean insisted. He lowered his voice further after a quick glance toward the kitchen. “In my book, if a cannibal freak attaches its spine tentacle to a baby’s neck, you assume the worst.”

Sam returned to the kitchen to find Melissa holding her baby, smiling at the child though her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed from crying. “Excuse me again,” Sam said. “I was wondering if Noelle’s doctor has stopped by to check on her.”

“Not yet,” Melissa said, tracing the infant’s face with her index finger. “Thank God Kevin stopped that woman before she could hurt my little baby.”

“Dr. Hartwell’s on her way,” Melissa’s mother informed them. “Called her as soon as I heard what happened.”

“Good,” Sam said. “I’m familiar with Dr. Hartwell.”

Since Hartwell had already seen the rash and punctures on the Atherton baby, she might have some insight on how Noelle’s wounds compared. In both incidents, it appeared that the mystery woman hadn’t had much time to harm either child. Castiel was correct to suggest other attacks could have happened without anyone’s knowledge, but Sam wondered how both babies would have fared if the woman hadn’t been interrupted.

Sam heard activity at the front door.

Melissa’s father ushered in Dr. Vanessa Hartwell. “I’m so sorry about Kevin,” she said as she walked purposely toward the kitchen with him. “They have to stop this person.” She spotted the baby. “But my little patient is okay?”

“She’s upset,” Melissa’s father said. “But that’s natural, I guess.”

Castiel caught the OB/GYN by the arm and whispered in her ear.

She nodded, her features shifting from personal sympathy to professional concern. “Thanks. I’ll check.”

Sam left the kitchen after Hartwell entered. She placed her medical bag on the kitchen table, then stood beside Melissa as she began a cursory visual inspection of Noelle. She placed a finger at the top of the child’s onesie and gently pulled it down enough to examine the nape of the baby’s neck. She looked up toward Castiel and nodded. A moment later, Melissa passed the infant into Dr. Hartwell’s arms.

“She’s fine, isn’t she, Dr. Hartwell?”

“I think she’s incredible,” Dr. Hartwell said, smiling at the baby. “Let’s have a look…”

Unless the doctor found something other than the fading rash and puncture wounds, Sam decided they’d learn nothing more from Melissa and her child. He led the way out to the front walk.

Overhead lights flashing but silent, the EMT van left the scene with the remains of Kevin Barrows. Trumble wrapped up a final conversation with Cordero, climbed into his dark SUV and left in the same direction as the van. The patrol officers who had stood guard over the body had returned to the street, now grouped by one of the patrol cars, talking among themselves.

Sam turned to Dean and Castiel. “This is connected to Nodd and those disappearances in the sixties,” he said. “Sally’s arrival in this town must have triggered something that’s been dormant until now.”

“Sally and Riza are related by blood,” Dean said. “Maybe Riza came back when Sally moved here.”

“Maybe Riza never left,” Sam said, although he couldn’t imagine how she could have stayed hidden in town all these years. With her boyfriend and a child in tow? She could have changed her appearance, assumed a false identity. Even so… “She would be seventy years old now.”

“Her child would be in his or her fifties,” Castiel said.

“Nobody in town, not even the old-timers, would recognize that child,” Dean said. “He or she could have come back any time, unnoticed.”

The front door opened and Dr. Hartwell hurried outside.

Sam caught her attention. “Something wrong with Noelle?”

“She seems fine, but I’m ordering a comprehensive metabolic panel, to be sure,” she said. “My service just called—twice in two minutes. Just when I think nothing else strange can happen…”

“More strange?” Dean asked.

“Two of my patients have gone into premature labor,” she said. “I believe you’ve spoken with both of them in relation to these attacks. Olivia Krum and Chloe Sikes.”

As she strode to a silver Lexus GS hybrid parked beyond the police perimeter and drove away, Sam frowned. One more weird coincidence in a string of unlikely coincidences involving pregnant women in Braden Heights dating back to the early sixties. Back then pregnant women went missing, never to be heard from again, and now the fathers of their children were being murdered while the newborns themselves had become prey.

As Dean and Castiel wove through the remaining emergency vehicles and edged their way past the crowd gathered at the edge of the crime scene tape, Sam veered off to speak with Assistant Chief Cordero. He waited while Cordero sent some of his patrol cops on their way, keeping a few around to maintain order while the crime scene unit wrapped up.

Once Sam had Cordero’s full attention, he said, “Getting out of the office more than usual these days?”

“Only wish it were under better circumstances,” Cordero said. “Chasing a phantom serial murderer has everyone rattled.”

“Trumble’s sticking with his wild animal attack theory,” Sam said.

“He’s like a dog with a bone,” Cordero replied, shaking his head. “But until one of us proves the other wrong, we’ll keep telling the press these are suspected animal attacks. At this point, I’d rather have the public fearful than panicked. Lesser of two evils, basically. I assume you didn’t stop by just to check the status of our public relations efforts.”

“Any eyewitnesses?”

“To the attack?” Cordero shook his head. “Melissa was downstairs. Heard the commotion; didn’t see squat.”

“To the fall,” Sam said, pointing toward the broken second-story window. “Neighbors outside see anything? Passing motorists?”

“What’s it take to fall from that height?” Cordero asked. “A second? Maybe less?” Again, he shook his head. “Had a few officers canvass the street. Nobody saw him fall. Several heard the crash, saw the aftermath.”

“But no wild animal sightings?”

“Not one,” Cordero said. “All anybody saw was that poor bastard lying on the sidewalk with a cracked skull and his guts ripped open. Unfortunately. Nightmare fuel.”

“Melissa didn’t see the intruder come out of the nursery,” Sam said. “And nobody saw the woman fall from the window.”

“Say Barrows broke her fall so she’s not hurt much. She’d only need a few seconds to duck between houses, cross a backyard. Not unreasonable.”

“But unlikely.”

“Maybe so,” Cordero said. “But that’s our working theory. Unless you got a better one…?”

I could suggest a few
, Sam thought,
but you’d never believe me.
“Not yet.”

Unwilling to share his own speculations with Cordero, Sam left the marked crime scene area, ducking under the police tape in one of the less crowded areas. Almost half the gawkers had departed when the EMT van took Barrows’ corpse to the morgue. As the minutes ticked by with no further developments, others began to disperse, their morbid curiosity mostly unsatisfied. Sam noticed a woman in a red dress, standing by herself on the far side of the street. As he looked toward her, she returned his gaze and a jolt of recognition startled him.