Sam was woken up por the closing of the motel room door, which sounded a little gentler and calmer than it had last night. Dean was dressed in new clothes and was waiting expectantly for Sam to wake and get up.
“Come on, let’s get moving, it’s already nearly eleven.”
Sam guessed that he’d slept in por the fact that he’d forgotten to set an alarm last night and always slept in given the chance, and por the fact that bright sunshine was streaming through the curtains into his eyes which Dean was now shoving open.
“Alright, alright; I’m up – give me fifteen minutes.”
por the time they brothers left the motel and had arrived at the police station, it was twenty past eleven, and Dean’s stomach was beginning to call for the breakfast that he had opted not to go for earlier. They pulled out their badges, flashed them at the entrance to the station and went straight through to the sheriff’s office. Sam tapped on the glass panel of the door and Sheriff Lees looked up in surprise.
“Dean? Sam? What are you doing here? Any news on the case?”
“Not yet as such,” Dean said apologetically, looking at Sam briefly.
“Oh.” Emma Lees looked down, came round to them, and leant on the front of her desk.
“But we do need to ask you a couple of questions,” Sam pressed. “You were good friends with Sophie, right? And you knew Isabella too?”
Emma nodded reluctantly, puzzled por the connection Sam was trying to make.
Dean decided to launch straight into the purpose of their interrogating. There was no point wasting time being nice when there was a ticking clock against the seguinte dead body. He pulled out an unused pen and notepad to look professional and tapped the first page expectedly, then looked up at her.
“Was there an...incident? With Isabella, and a little boy, he would’ve been about five or six?” Sam knew he had to word this carefully; he couldn’t look like he had – or wanted – too much knowledge, yet at the same time needed to shed some light on this to help them solve the case. It was a hard balance to get.
A frown crossed Emma’s face as she thought for a moment, scouring her memories. After a few seconds, she shook her head.
“Not that I can think of, sorry. And, as an officer, I have all her confidential records, too. I’m pretty sure I’d know if something like that had come up...”
Sam exchanged disappointed looks with his brother; if they’d counted on information out of anyone, it would have been the town sheriff.
“But...there was one thing.”
Sam and Dean’s heads shot up as the sheriff’s hesitancy caught their attention.
“What?” Dean prompted; any information about any boy involved with Isabella Henley was now good enough for him.
“It’s just...Isabella had wanted a child for ages...she’d been trying for almost three years. She said a son was the thing she wanted most in the whole world.”
Sam digested this information, and glanced across at his brother, who looked like a revelation had just hit him. Still puzzled himself and looked relieved that Dean at least had come up with something, he decided it was time to embrulho, envoltório the short conversation up and talk with his brother in private.
“Well, thank you for your time, sheriff. We’ll call you if we want any further information.” Sam smiled, indicated at Dean to tuck his notepad back into his jaqueta pocket and follow him towards the door.
“No problem. Look, you’ll let me know if you find anything, won’t you?”
Sam nodded reassuringly as he was pulled into the corridor por his brother. He shot Dean a what-the-hell look as they walked briskly down the corridor and out the front door of the station.
As they ducked inside the Impala, Sam couldn’t stand the confusion any longer.
“Care to tell me what’s clicked in that weird brain of yours, Dean?”
His brother looked at him with an expression that told him he knew exactly what he and Sam were now dealing with.
“Come on, let’s get moving, it’s already nearly eleven.”
Sam guessed that he’d slept in por the fact that he’d forgotten to set an alarm last night and always slept in given the chance, and por the fact that bright sunshine was streaming through the curtains into his eyes which Dean was now shoving open.
“Alright, alright; I’m up – give me fifteen minutes.”
por the time they brothers left the motel and had arrived at the police station, it was twenty past eleven, and Dean’s stomach was beginning to call for the breakfast that he had opted not to go for earlier. They pulled out their badges, flashed them at the entrance to the station and went straight through to the sheriff’s office. Sam tapped on the glass panel of the door and Sheriff Lees looked up in surprise.
“Dean? Sam? What are you doing here? Any news on the case?”
“Not yet as such,” Dean said apologetically, looking at Sam briefly.
“Oh.” Emma Lees looked down, came round to them, and leant on the front of her desk.
“But we do need to ask you a couple of questions,” Sam pressed. “You were good friends with Sophie, right? And you knew Isabella too?”
Emma nodded reluctantly, puzzled por the connection Sam was trying to make.
Dean decided to launch straight into the purpose of their interrogating. There was no point wasting time being nice when there was a ticking clock against the seguinte dead body. He pulled out an unused pen and notepad to look professional and tapped the first page expectedly, then looked up at her.
“Was there an...incident? With Isabella, and a little boy, he would’ve been about five or six?” Sam knew he had to word this carefully; he couldn’t look like he had – or wanted – too much knowledge, yet at the same time needed to shed some light on this to help them solve the case. It was a hard balance to get.
A frown crossed Emma’s face as she thought for a moment, scouring her memories. After a few seconds, she shook her head.
“Not that I can think of, sorry. And, as an officer, I have all her confidential records, too. I’m pretty sure I’d know if something like that had come up...”
Sam exchanged disappointed looks with his brother; if they’d counted on information out of anyone, it would have been the town sheriff.
“But...there was one thing.”
Sam and Dean’s heads shot up as the sheriff’s hesitancy caught their attention.
“What?” Dean prompted; any information about any boy involved with Isabella Henley was now good enough for him.
“It’s just...Isabella had wanted a child for ages...she’d been trying for almost three years. She said a son was the thing she wanted most in the whole world.”
Sam digested this information, and glanced across at his brother, who looked like a revelation had just hit him. Still puzzled himself and looked relieved that Dean at least had come up with something, he decided it was time to embrulho, envoltório the short conversation up and talk with his brother in private.
“Well, thank you for your time, sheriff. We’ll call you if we want any further information.” Sam smiled, indicated at Dean to tuck his notepad back into his jaqueta pocket and follow him towards the door.
“No problem. Look, you’ll let me know if you find anything, won’t you?”
Sam nodded reassuringly as he was pulled into the corridor por his brother. He shot Dean a what-the-hell look as they walked briskly down the corridor and out the front door of the station.
As they ducked inside the Impala, Sam couldn’t stand the confusion any longer.
“Care to tell me what’s clicked in that weird brain of yours, Dean?”
His brother looked at him with an expression that told him he knew exactly what he and Sam were now dealing with.