Dean slowed down in a street near the café. A few yards further a police van was parked. Yellow stripes marked a crime scene and people in white costumes were discussing with people in black costumes.
“You think it’s Cas?” Sam asked, looking at Dean from the corner of his eye.
“If it’s not, I’m fairly certain he’s got something to do with it” Dean replied dark, before getting out of the car. He walked steady to the crime scene as he pulled out one of his fake ID’s. “FBI, what do you got?”
“Man, 43, looks like he’s strangled to death” the coroner said. He took a...
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