The Kapok Shade Detective Agency for Exotic Solutions, Part Two

[tcs1121]

Title: The Kapok Shade Detective Agency for Exotic Solutions
Author: tcs1121
Artist: thruterryseyes
Pairing and Characters (in order of appearance): Jensen/Jared, Lauren Tom, Osric Chau, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, D.J. Qualls, Samantha Ferris, Mark Pellegrino, Misha Collins, Nathan Fillion, Alona Tal, Tahmoh Penikett. Mentions and cameos: Chad Michael Murray, Felicia Day, Jim Beaver, Steven Williams, Sterling K. Brown, and original family members
Rating: NC-17, bottom Jensen
Genre: J2 AU, h/c
Word Count: ~37,000
Warnings: Drug addiction and drug rehab, one brief suicidal ideation, one character is a cross-dresser (not one of the Js). This warning under the gray is also a spoiler Minor Character Deaths but not one of the J's. It might be more fun to read without knowing that. ;-)

Disclaimer: Untrue story. Character names are being used without permission. No money changes hands.

~~Special Thanks to:~~
My Tireless Beta: kee who always knows how to talk to me, what to say to help my stories along, and never lets me get away with anything. I love her more than just a little.
My First Reader: SPN_J2fan whose careful attention to detail and kind consideration of these characters makes her a joy to work with.
And Wendy: The ever patient moderator of the SPN-J2 Big Bang I don't know how she does it year after year.

A/N: Two year age difference between the boys. The real Jim Beaver is younger than this James Beaver.
~~*~~*

My Artist: thruterryseyes who went way, way above and beyond for this story.Please read my note of thanks under the fin.
Art Master Post to her many beautiful illustrations: ~~CLICK HERE~~

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Summary:
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Jensen was born an empath. With a touch, he can experience the physical and emotional sensations of another person.

Jared is a claire-clairvoyant, clairaudient, and clairsentient. He can hear, see, smell and even gather emotions from either side of the veil.

With Jensen's ability to feel the subject's emotions and pain, and Jared's extraordinary ability of communication, they work as paranormal detectives seeking the missing, the lost, the dead and the dying.

A new case puts Jensen's life in danger and Jared must use all his exotic abilities to find the perpetrator before time runs out.

~~*~~*~~


Back to Part One

~~*~~*~~



The Kapok Shade Detective Agency
for Exotic Solutions
~~*~~

"Jared's at the scene now, Lieutenant, and will probably stay there until late tonight. He said there was a lot of interference on the docks with all the equipment and personnel and he couldn't get any clear messages. That happens sometimes."

Jensen shifted his rolling computer chair over to the far right of his three desktop monitors and clicked the keyboard. "When am I meeting up with the daughter?"

"Hold on a sec, Jensen."

The speakerphone hissed with the muffled precinct noises coming from Jeff's side of the connection.

"Sorry, about that. You still there?" Jeff asked.

"Still here, LT."

"Okay, says here that the questioning of James Beaver's daughter, Lily Holt, is on hold until the judge signs a new warrant that specifically allows you to touch her during questioning."

"Even though Ms. Holt volunteered and said we didn't need one?" Jensen asked, scrolling down his screen.

"Looks like. You never know who's going to turn into a suspect, although her alibi checked out. She was out of state when her father was killed." Jeff rustled some papers. "We won't have to wait long, though. Judge Lehne has it on his desk now and is just making sure that all the i's are dotted and t's crossed."

"Those warrants are bitches to follow since they all have such strict and separate conditions," Jensen sighed. "Like: The Touch may last no longer than five minutes unless an active link failed to be established within the first fifteen seconds of first contact or had been lost for thirty seconds-or whatever the court had deemed prior, as a 'significant amount of time'-after the first minute of a fully established link…yadda, yadda."

"The wheels of justice, Jensen. They turn at their own speed, but at least they're turning. You know I'll be there, along with the deputy DA, making sure the questioning goes off without a hitch."

"I know," he said, wistfully. "But how 'bout next time you send a rich banker with a lost dog over to the Kapok Shade instead of a murdered union organizer."

"Murder pays the bills with both cops and private investigators."

Two more messages from other clients appeared on the email monitors. Jensen pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stave off a brewing headache. "What a way to make a living," he said, shaking his head.

"If I had a nickel for every time my wife said that," Jeff chuckled through the speaker.

"That would certainly supplement the income," Jensen joked.

Jeff became serious. "Hey, don't forget that you and Jared are the good guys and you do good work. You do great work."

"Thanks and back at'cha, Lieutenant Morgan."

"Keep your phone on, I'll be calling as soon as the legal paperwork's signed. Morgan out."

Jensen laughed in spite of his throbbing temples. Who ended phone calls with Morgan out?

Jeff's call had barely ended when Jared's name appeared on his phone.

"How's it going, Jay?"

"Let the voice mail handle the calls, take some extra strength Tylenol and lie down for a couple of hours."

"Can't, a warrant's about to be signed, allowing me to read the vic's daughter. Plus two new clients have gotten back to us with authorized agency contracts."

"You can kick back for a couple of hours because I'm sending in the cavalry. Osric got back early and is on his way in to take care of the phones, get the paperwork cleared, and set up schedules."

"Oh, sweet," Jensen moaned, thankfully. "Finally, a way for me to get something from his eidetic memory. Like a nap."

"Go, I think Chau'll be there in twenty. And the Tylenol's in the cabinet on the third shelf in the back bathroom."

"You always know what to say to a guy," Jensen said, sweetly.

"That's because I always know what he's going to ask," Jared replied just as amiably. "Seriously, Jense, take a few minutes now while the Tylenol will still work."

"I will, but I'll wait until our office manager gets here first."

Jared was right. There was a relatively small window of time that Tylenol would work on one of his headaches, and since Jensen wouldn't take anything stronger he had to nip that bitch in the bud.

"And drink a gallon of water."

"Yes, dear." Jensen went to the back bathroom and got the pill bottle, right where Jared said it would be. "Are you going to be home for dinner tonight or are you camping out at the scene?"

Sometimes, Jared would literally camp out at the crime scene if he thought he could get any information through the veil, especially if he was having difficulty getting someone to talk to him-dead or alive.

"Haven't decided yet. I'm getting a lot of mixed messages and a hell of a lot of static. I sure could use one of your light touches right now."

"You should come home." Jensen popped the pills and then sipped from the bottled water he'd pulled from the mini fridge. "I think a nice, deep touch would do us both good."

To an uninformed eavesdropper, that might have sounded like a deeply sexual innuendo. But, to the two partners who made up the Kapok Shade Detective Agency, it was a practical suggestion for the powerful empath to soothe the clairvoyant's mind of excess negative energy and useless information-which was what Jared called "static."

Jensen, for his part, would be able to release his pent up emotional stress safely. It was true that empaths needed to touch and be touched as part of their nature and it was even more important for Jensen. The years that he had fought to keep his emotions from accidently leaking out had been hard on him, but he had Jared now. Jared was his safety valve. A deep touch performed in a considerate, mutual environment, helped Jensen avoid emotional meltdowns, powerful bleed-throughs and painful headaches.

Fortunately, Jared was a careful, considerate toucher.

"That sounds good," Jared said. "I think I will, but it'll be late. Think you could wait up and have dinner with me?"

"As long as you don't want anything fancier than pizza." Jensen rubbed his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut, accentuating the light show going on behind his lids.

"Jen." Jared's voice was soft. "I'm not an empath, but when you’re hurting, I hurt. Go lie down and let the hired help sort out the office."

"I don't think Chau would appreciate being called the hired help." Jensen joked, blinking his eyes open.

"Please don't let it slip that I said that, then," Jared said, cheerfully. "I'll bring home dinner around nine and we can touch each other for the rest of the night."

"You make it sound so dirty."

"That's what I was going for." Jared's voice smiled. "Because after we finish touching, I'd like us to fuck."

"That's more like it." Jensen laughed, weakly.

"I can come back now if you need me to. The spirits can always wait." Jared's soft voice was laced with concern.

"No, I'll be all right. If it gets bad, I'll let you know. Besides I think I hear Osric, now. Must've been closer than you thought."

The front door to the office opened and closed.

"Jensen?" Osric's voice was just above a whisper.

"Back here," Jensen called out before wincing at the volume of his own voice.

"He's there, now?" Jared asked.

"Yeah, it's all good. See you tonight, Jay. Bring something delicious."

"Call me if you need me."

"I will. Be safe."

"Love you, too, babe. See you tonight." Jared ended the call.

Jensen looked up from the edge of the couch he realized he was sitting on.

Osric crept in on tip toes, murmuring softly, "I'm here."

It was relatively easy for Osric to remain up on tip toes as he was wearing his four-inch silver stiletto heels over black fishnet stockings. The tight, leather miniskirt showed off his great legs beautifully. The purple halter top was a bit much, though, since it was still March.

"Aren't you cold?" Jensen asked.

"Aren't you hot?" Chau replied with a toss of her blonde wig. "Why, yes. Yes, you are."

When Osric was en femme, and in leather, she went by Chau. When she wore lace, she was Miss Chu hua.

"Chau is a girl's name and means pearls or precious stones in Vietnamese," she had explained. "Chau can be pronounced sorta like Chu hua which is a Chinese name meaning "Chrysanthemum." I get a two-fer. How awesome is that?"

"You only think I'm hot when you're wearing heels." Jensen snickered, and then grimaced.

"You're always hot, even in my flats. Unfortunately, you're not my type. Hey, Jen," Chau lowered her voice. "Jared told me to make sure you drink lots of water before making you nap for a couple of hours."

"Yeah, he told me that, too." He pointed to his empty water bottle.

"Well, here's two more." She pulled the water bottles from her colorful backpack. "Drink these, then doze off. I’ll go up front to see if I can make sense of your emails and phone messages."

"Thanks." Jensen twisted the top off one of the bottles and took a hefty swallow. "By the way, you look gorgeous." Jensen tipped his chin to Chau's skirt and stockings.

"Thanks, boss," she smiled. "Nothing like being a martial arts champion for making a girl's legs look sleek in her Jimmy Choos."

"Apparently not," Jensen agreed, capping his bottle and lying down on his side.

The throbbing ratcheted up several notches, but after an undetermined amount of time it finally throttled back and he was able to nap. When he woke, the migraine had leveled off at a manageable dull ache and Jensen wobbled to a stand. He reached for his sunglasses, drank another bottle of water, hit the bathroom, and then made his way to his desk, which was remarkably clear of debris.

Chau was on the phone fielding questions from a potential client.

"Because a Kapok tree is an exotic tree and the bosses thought it would make a catchy name. What's your contact information? Start with phone numbers."

She scribbled a few notes.

"No, ma'am, The Kapok Shade Detective Agency does not work on the commission after finding your grandfather's lost treasure. By the way, what kind of treasure are we talking about, here?" Chau saw Jensen standing in the doorway and returned to the call. "I mean, no. No matter what kind of treasure you're talking about, The Kapok Shade does not work on commission but we do have a sliding fee scale."

She toyed with the blonde strands at the nape of her neck and listened. "You pay them to find it, and if they do, all the treasure will be yours. You have to pay the agency first for their time and expertise. I can set up an appointment for you to talk to one of our agents."

Jensen waved his hands and shook his head, mouthing, "No, no, no."

"Next Thursday afternoon, one week from today, with Mr. Ackles at three-thirty would be fine. Do you know how to get here?" She nodded while clicking on the calendar. "Hope to see you then, Mrs. Ferdinand."

"Why, Chau, why?" Jensen sat heavily.

"Don't sweat it. You and Jared have an appointment together at one o'clock that afternoon, so you'll already be here. You might even be able to go home early if the Ferdinand thing is a bust."

"Why an appointment with both of us? It's not one of our moms, is it?" Jensen pulled his sunglasses off and rubbed his eyes.

"No, although you do have your mother penciled in for next month-the week-end of the seventeenth." Chau displayed her calendar. "However, next Thursday, Samantha Ferris requested a private meeting with both you and Jay, and said," Chau lowered her voice an octave, "It is imperative that I meet with both the clairvoyant and the empath."

"Should I know Samantha Ferris?"

"Probably not. I had to look her up. She's the wife of the late Nathan Ferris of Pellegrino and Ferris Pharmaceuticals. We know them as P & F PharmCare. I figured whatever she wanted, she had the capital to back it up."

"She didn't tell you what it was about?"

"Nope. Just that she wanted both of you at the same time before she signed on the dotted line."

Chau handed Jensen several sets of papers. "Here's Samantha's bio, her dead husband's bio, information on their daughter, Alona Penikett, and her husband, Tahmoh Penikett, the history of the main company and…" Chau handed him another stack of printouts, "…some information on the partner, Mark Pellegrino, his history and his family and how he got the company started."

"This is a lot of information. How long ago did she call?" Jensen said, lightly perusing the papers.

"About an hour and a half. You've been napping for a couple of hours. Are you feeling better?"

Jensen blinked, looked around, and took stock of himself. "Yeah, much better. Thanks. And thanks for coming in on such short notice."

"Not short notice. Jared called yesterday morning and asked if I could switch my days around and come in this afternoon. He knew I got home early. It was…it was like he's psychic or something." Chau made an exaggerated, wide-eyed expression.

"I hope he knows I'm in the mood for dinner from the Cantonese Cuisine tonight." Jensen sat at his desk to begin reading up on Mrs. Ferris.

"He's good, but not that good. I'll let him know."

"Beauty and brains. I guess we'll keep you." Jensen put his feet up on his desk and perused the papers in front of him.

"You'd be fools not to. After all, I have every piece of personal and professional information committed to memory." She tapped her temple with a well-manicured fingernail.

"Then, surely you remember how I take my coffee?" Jensen asked, innocently.

Chau stood and sneered. "Only because I know that a caffeine hit helps after your headaches, but don't expect this kind of service on a regular basis." She stomped over to the coffee maker and prepared a pot.

"I won't." And Jensen wouldn't, because he never forgot that there was a martial artist with a sixth degree black belt wearing those Jimmy Choos.



~~*~~*~~

"Hey, how're you feeling?" Jared put the bags from the Cantonese Cuisine on the dining room table.

"Not so bad. Thanks for arranging for office help."

Jared watched Jensen rub his eyes as he sat up from napping on the couch. It was nine forty-five and even though it was late to be having dinner, they had become well versed in eating at weird times.

'The spirits wait for no man-or his dinner.' Jensen once said as a way of forgiving Jared for his spur of the moment run-off-into-the-middle-of-the-night calls.

Jared smiled as he took the white boxes out of the bags and tabbed them open.

"I got your favorites-spare ribs soup with watercress and apricot kernels."

A slow smile spread across Jensen's face, and he licked his lips. "Mmm. Did you get the steamed scallops with ginger and garlic?"

"Did you think I'd forget?" Jared kidded. He kept his voice low in case Jensen had any residual headache pain. "And to be on the safe side, I bought Jook-sing noodles and Beef Chow Fun because Beef Chow…"

"...is always fun," Jensen finished. "Thanks, Jay, this is great."

"You're welcome. Sorry I'm late. How's the headache?"

"Better." Jensen wrapped his hands around Jared's forearms and breathed in deep. Jared felt the mild zing that tingled under his skin when Jensen went for a light touch.

"Don't hold back, babe," Jared whispered. "Gimme all you got."

Jensen closed his eyes. He slid his hands under Jared's shirt, pressing his warm hands above Jared's heart.

Jared felt Jensen breathe in deep and let it out. Jensen kept a tight rein on his anxieties until he touched Jared, only then did he feel safe to let them lose After his second breath, a charge of emotion-laden energy flooded Jared's body and settled deep in his bones. Stress as hot as gunpowder crackled under his skin and sizzled around his muscles. Several seconds after Jensen's touch vibrated through him, the tension popped like an old-time flashbulb, and a light feeling, washed through him. Something akin to cut grass and summer rain, swept his spirits up and away.

After another deep breath Jensen looked up through his lashes and smiled.

"All better now."

Jared leaned in for a kiss and then another. "I'm glad."

"Thank you," Jensen said, kissing into Jared's lips. "Thank you for doing this for me."

"Any time."

Jensen ran his palms across the skin of Jared's chest up along his ribs and around his back. "And now, this one's for you."

Empathic vibrations juddered gently through him, finding and sharing the areas of tension and easing each point of stress, like a massage of mind and body. Jared relaxed as the stiffness held deep in his aura let loose and melted like butter on a hot knife. It was as if Jensen sucked all the bad energy and negative thoughts out of his body leaving him loose-limbed and stupid.

With the first touch, Jensen released his emotions and took calm from Jared. With the second Jensen returned the calm to Jared. They were made for each other.

They both groaned in contentment as Jared sank gratefully into the overstuffed chair by the fireplace carrying Jensen down with him.

Jensen smiled a knowing grin. He scooted up until he was sitting in Jared's lap, leaning down for a deep, dirty kiss.

The next touches were between the both of them and they had everything and nothing to do with relieving stress.



~~*~~*~~

After some time playing on the overstuffed chair, Jensen sat up and said that he was hungry. Jared set the kitchen table with plates and bowls, chopsticks and tea cups, while Jensen started up a pot of oolong tea.

"So, how did it go at the docks?" Jensen asked. "Did you speak to any friendly souls?"

"Sorry to say there was still a lot of interference and nonsense babble, so I didn't get anything we could use. It looks like you're going to have to interrogate the daughter and, if they can get a warrant, the ex-wife. I don't think either one of them knows anything, but they might know somebody who knows somebody that we don't know about yet."

Jared came up to Jensen, hugging him from behind. "I hate when I can't touch you for days."

Jensen turned in the circle of Jared's arms. "You know that goes triple for me."

Their kissing started up again as chaste little nips and licks, but progressed into another full-tilt breath-stealing, tongue-sucking, mouth-watering make-out session.

When Jensen came up for air, he said, "You'd think we were still teenagers."

"Except when we were teenagers, I didn't get a chance to do this." Jared dipped Jensen backwards as he kissed him. He ran his hand down the front of Jensen's pajama pants, cupping his cock and squeezing gently.

Jensen groaned into the kiss and pulled himself to stand. "I never knew what a turn-on it was to be groped in my own kitchen with the aroma of crabmeat wontons and Jook-sing noodles in the air."

"Because Jook-sing noodles," Jared said, trailing kisses up to Jensen's lips, "are always fun."

Jensen groaned again.

Jared smacked a wet, slurping kiss across Jensen's forehead and then licked his cheek.

"Get off me, you mangy mutt," Jensen laughed.

Such a great sound, Jared thought. Jensen's laugh is the best there is.

They scooped out portions onto their plates and sat back to eat. Jared popped open a beer while Jensen opted for the tea.

"So, was Osric able to get the schedule in order?"

Jensen nodded. "Chau arrived a few minutes after you called. Did she tell you about the appointment we have next Thursday at the office?"

"I got a text, what's that all about?" Jared asked, while carefully pouring soup into two bowls.

"I guess we'll see soon enough. We're getting busy. I hope we'll still be able to make it out to Trinidad and Tobago for those couple of weeks in June."

"More Kapok Shade business means longer stays in five star hotels, my love." Jared raised his beer bottle and Jensen tapped it with his tea cup.

Jensen ate slowly and carefully, starting with the soup and nibbling on some noodles. Jared recognized the gesture and understood that Jensen was still not one hundred percent so he said, "I'd like to make good on my earlier offer to fuck you all night long, but I'm afraid I'm too tired to perform properly."

"What?"

"I'm tired and I don't have the stamina you require to be fully satisfied, my little sex kitten, especially with the early morning rendezvous I'm hoping to have with a ghost. Plus, there's your interview with the daughter. However, I'd like to offer you a rain check."

Jensen put down his chopsticks and took Jared's hands into his. He held tight, causing Jared's body to thrum with energy.

"I know you're a big, fat, liar, but I also know you lie because you love me." Jensen gave Jared's hands a quick squeeze. "Yes, rain check. Yes, bed. Yes, I love you, too. And yes, you clean up."

Jensen shuffled off to bed leaving the left-overs to Jared's discretion.

Jared smiled thinking about their upcoming Caribbean vacation, and the mess he was planning on making of their five star hotel room.

He was definitely going to make Jensen clean that up.

~~*~~*~~


~~*~~*~~

The warrant allowing Jensen to question the murdered Jim Beaver's daughter came through early the next morning, as expected. It was Friday, right before noon, when Jensen and Jeff Morgan stood on the sidewalk in front of Lily Holt's brownstone in the lower end of the city, five blocks from the city dock.

Jensen preferred to perform readings in a person's home rather than the precinct, and since she wasn't a suspect, all involved agreed to meet at her place.

"D.J.'s on the way, we might as well go in." Morgan rang the doorbell and got out his identification.

Lily Holt was a tall, slender woman, dressed all in white. The hem of her sleeveless dress fluttered around her ankles, and her long, blonde hair, ironed straight, fell past her waist. Her high cheekbones and expressive blue eyes made her look more like nineteen than her actual age of thirty-four. Her husband, Barry Holt, was in the National Guard and away for annual training. Lily had driven him there, and they were both on the road the night her father was murdered. Two hotel receipts and an entire unit of National Guard soldiers verified their alibis.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, after examining Morgan's badge.

"We've spoken on the phone," he half-turned to Jensen, "but this the first time we've met face-to-face. This is Jensen Ackles, the empathic investigator from the Kapok Shade Detective Agency. The deputy District Attorney is on his way and he…"

"Is here! Hi, D.J. Qualls from the DA's office." A tall, lanky man came through the doorway, smiling. "We have met before, Mrs. Holt. As I explained, I'm here to make sure everything goes by the book. I'll be recording the interview so that there's no misunderstanding of what transpires here today." He shrugged. "Keeps things on the up and up. Do you understand the procedures and the reasons for them? Hey, hi, Lieutenant. Morning, Mr. Ackles."

"Yes, you filled me in on everything, but can I see what you're going to use to record with?"

"Of course."

Lily led the three men into her country kitchen. A platter of pastries and a pot of coffee were in the center of the table. The deputy DA pulled out her chair, and then sat next to her, reviewing all of his recording paraphernalia and the specifications of the warrant.

Lt. Morgan filled his coffee cup. "Mrs. Holt, it's important that I take you through the facts of the crime as we know them before Mr. Ackles proceeds to question you. I don't want to upset you, but we all need to start on a level playing field."

"I understand," she said. Her wide eyes taking up her whole face as she scrutinized the men sitting at her kitchen table. "I'll do whatever I can to help catch my father's killer."

Jeff nodded to D.J. who stood, shouldered his video camera, pointed it at Morgan and said, "Now."

Jeff began, "Today is Friday, March the fifteenth, two thousand fifteen, it is twelve twenty in the afternoon. Present are, myself: Lieutenant Jeffrey Morgan, Twenty-third Precinct, the Assistant District Attorney for Westminster County, D. J. Qualls and Jensen Ackles, Empathic Investigator from the Kapok Shade Detective Agency. We are serving a lawfully obtained warrant to question Lily Marie Holt regarding the death of her father, James Norman Beaver.

"On Friday the twenty-eighth of February of this year, at approximately eleven thirty p.m., an anonymous telephone call came in to the Twenty-third Precinct requesting assistance for what appeared to be a shooting in progress at the Metro City docks. The caller did not identify herself, but was later determined to be a female.

"When the officers responded, they located an unresponsive elderly male lying face-up on the sidewalk with apparent gunshot wounds to his upper torso and abdomen. Officers called emergency services and attempted CPR, but the victim was pronounced dead at the scene. The victim was later identified as James Norman Beaver, aged seventy-two. We have no known witnesses or motives, and we do not have the weapon. However, the medical examiner recovered two bullets, each one a .357, most probably from a Glock 31. Both bullets were determined to have been fired from the same gun. The police are asking for help from the community as well as friends and family of the deceased." Jeff tilted his head towards Jensen. "We're even looking into unconventional means to solve this murder."

Jeff addressed Lily. "Mrs. Holt, it was reported that your father was planning to stage a peaceful rally to be attended by members of the dockworkers union after the state government began considering statutes that would limit the union's bargaining rights. Other than that, your father was a largely uncontroversial figure."

Lily's eyes were dimmed with tears, one trailing down her right cheek. "Did you know that my father owns a Glock 31, as well as a Sig Sauer and a couple of hunting rifles?"

"We did."

"My husband also collects handguns and semiautomatic firearms."

"We know that, too," Jeff said, gently. "He's not a suspect."

"Okay." She sniffed and looked far away for a moment.

"My father, he was a good guy. He was a great guy, never sick a day in his life. I can't believe he's dead." She wiped under her eyes, trying to catch the tears before they fell. "He was just an old man trying one last time to be the union organizer he was back in the day."

"We're so sorry for your loss," D.J. said, handing her a tissue.

She nodded her thanks.

"Mrs. Holt," Jeff said. "The reason we’re here today is because you may have some subconscious information about the people surrounding this crime. Mr. Ackles is a registered exotic private investigator and empath from the Kapok Shade Detective Agency, and may be able to help you uncover it."

Jeff spoke to the camera. "Mrs. Lily Holt, we are here to execute a warrant for you to be Read by Detective Jensen Ackles, license number #PI 8389-E1379. The warrant was written to protect your rights and privacy during the possible disclosure of information from your subconscious and/or unconscious mind. Anything discovered here will not be used against you or any individual or entity, professional or otherwise, in a court of law, but, should new information pertaining to this crime be obtained through this Reading, further investigations may occur. Again, we are here to gather information pertaining to this case only."

He turned to Jensen. "Mr. Ackles?"

Jensen stood and approached Lily. She was trembling and biting her bottom lip with the tips of her teeth.

"Before we start, do you have any questions for me?" Jensen sat down next to her at the table.

"Will…will it hurt?" she asked.

He smiled and shook his head. "This reading won't hurt you, but it will bring to the surface the thoughts, accusations and emotions that you have buried underneath the grief of losing your father. And that's okay, because that's what we're hoping will happen." He leaned in close and took her hand. "Lily, we're not here to judge you, I promise. You are in a safe place." Giving her hand a gentle touch, Jensen sent a sense of calm through her.

She relaxed and breathed, "Did you do that?"

"Sort of. It's more that I helped you do that."

"Did you read anything just now?"

"No, that was a small touch from me to you, letting you feel what I was feeling, and to show that I'm not going to hurt you." Jensen touched her again with a little more emotion. He'd found that if he started small, allowing the subject to feel what his touch is like, it was easier for them to open up and accept it. "Do you feel that?"

"Yes, yes I do. It feels-nice."

"All I want you to do is relax, and let me feel what you feel; let me know what you imagined happened, who you think might be involved, and how you are affected by the situation. Don't try to interpret or withhold anything that comes to your mind because that's how we find clues. I assure you, we aren't looking for secrets. You are not a suspect."

"I offered to help," she said, confidently.

"You did, and you are."

Jensen shifted so he was fully facing her. "In a moment, I'll run the palms of my hands up your arms and clasp lightly onto your shoulders. That's why we asked you to wear something sleeveless. You will feel that same energy tingle under your skin, but it won't get stronger and it won't hurt. I'll bow my head when I'm fully in touch with you, and that will give Lieutenant Morgan the signal to start timing. The reading will last for five minutes."

"Is five minutes enough time?"

"It's usually more than enough. Our thoughts travel quickly and I'm pretty good at catching the ones we need." He smiled and stroked her arm, conveying comfort and reassurance before continuing. "When five minutes are up, the lieutenant will touch the back of my neck, I'll withdraw my touch, remove my hands and it'll be over. Mr. Qualls will be recording the whole time."

"Will I know what's going on?"

"Oh, yes. You'll be fully awake and aware, and you'll hear everything, but please don't say a word, okay? I will be speaking directly from your mind, using your words, and it will no doubt be sad for you to hear. If it becomes too distressing, we'll end the session right away."

Jensen waited several seconds before he asked. "Do you have any more questions?"

Lily paused, looking unsure. "What about you? Will you be okay?"

Jensen blinked. "You're one of the very few who have ever asked that, Lily. Thank you. Yes, I'll be fine, or at least as fine as you are. So, are you ready?"

"Yes. I'm ready.

Jensen looked at D.J., then at Jeff who updated the timestamp.

Jensen opened his hands and moved his palms up Lily's bare arms, leaving a trail of glittering energy in their wake. He held on to her shoulders, lowered his head, and closed his eyes.

He entered Lily's world, one layer at a time. He flinched and picked up his left foot. "You hurt your ankle. It feels like yesterday? I didn't notice you limping, but it hurts like a bitc…like crazy today."

He felt her take a breath as though she was going to reply, but she stayed silent.

Jensen remained on the physical level for a few seconds, taking in how she was hungry but grief made it difficult to eat. She was tired but couldn't sleep. She missed her husband, wishing he were here to help her through this. He quickly weeded through her sensations one at a time. She was scared; she was heartbroken at being an orphan. She was angry and she was…suspicious.

Bingo.

Jensen lifted his hand from Lily's shoulder and touched the back of his own neck before bowing his head.

Jeff's voice sounded distorted. "The Touch has been established. The time is twelve twenty-nine and thirty-seven seconds p.m."

"I loved my father." Jensen's heart clenched as it always did when spoke another's thoughts aloud. Sorrow always came through first. "Why was he killed, he wasn't a threat?" Jensen shook it off and dug deeper.

Relax, Lily. I'm just taking a peek.

Jensen felt Lily build her resolve, and he sensed a change in direction. "Mr. Williams was my father's union friend." His voice got louder. "Steven Williams. He was angry that my dad didn't try harder to keep the men fired up. My father and Mr. Steve had been big, successful union organizers. Every dock worker up and down the coast knew "Good Ol' Jim" and "Fightin' Steve." But dad grew old and Steve grew old with him. Steven never wanted them to give up the good fight, but, in the end, they'd become anachronisms. Just two old men trying to relive the glory days when unions were king."

Jensen knew she was trying, but there was nothing here. Lily's mind was a knot of questions and turmoil. Jensen concentrated, trying to separate out the threads and find something useful.

You're doing fine, Lily.

But she was overwrought, and Jensen felt like he was losing his touch. Her thoughts came barrelling through.

"Didn't anybody who lived near the docks see anything?"
"There must have been shouting."
"Why didn't someone call the police sooner?"
"Did he suffer?"

No. No. No. He had to get a hold of this or he'd be putting her through all this for nothing.

"Two and a half more minutes, Jensen." Jeff's voice sounded through the fog.

Time was running out. There was no way around it, so he dove in and went straight for the heart.

"Oh, no…" First one, then two tears ran down his cheek. He doubled over and his breath hitched. Grief like a freight train ran him down. Grief and white-hot anger. "He's dead. They killed him. Oh, God. Oh, dad. My father, my dad."

Through the tears, he said, "I'm sorry they murdered you, dad. I'm so sorry."

In the background, he heard Lily sob low in her chest.

Jeff's hand was on his shoulder, but Jensen shook his head. New tears fell down his cheeks and, he imagined, Lily's cheeks, too. Jensen worked hard to pull it together, focusing on the burning anger rather than the overwhelming sadness.

You're safe, Lily. Let me feel it. Let me know it.

"I hate her. God, I hate her. Mom died. Years later, he re-married. He married her. Ellie. He married Ellie and she took over his brownstone and his checkbook. She never liked me, either. I knew she didn't love dad like he deserved, but I didn't think she wanted him dead."

Jensen backed away from the sheer emotion to try and examine the details. It was deeper than the jealousy a grieving daughter had for her ex-stepmother.

Tell me.

"Years ago, before I married Barry, she told me to move out. I'd known that it was way past time, and I had planned to, even though I'd grown up in that house. My mother left me some money and I knew I'd be okay."

"One minute, thirty-six seconds, Jensen."

Keep going, you're doing great, Lily.

"Dad said she tried to write me out of everything but he wouldn't let her. I would always be his little girl. That's one of the reasons he divorced her. Dad was financially and socially comfortable, and she wanted everything."

Fresh tears coursed down his face, but Jensen ignored them.

"And she did. I think she signed her name to everything he owned without him realizing it."

Lily's emotions were overwhelming.

"Ten seconds, Jensen. Pull back."

He withdrew through the horror of the murder and the suspicion of the other woman, tripping head-first into the memories little Lily had of her father having a tea party with sparkly party hats and drinking imaginary tea-eating chocolate dipped vanilla cones at Dairy Queen-watching Disney's The Great Mouse Detective, fingers covered in popcorn salt and butter.

Jensen felt his heart break as the sobs came in great, breathless heaves. His stomach hurt, his head pounded and the tears wouldn't stop. He knew these emotions were Lily's but he felt them sharp and clear and his soul ached.

Then, a warm, familiar hand cupped the back of his neck.

"It's over now, Jense. It's over."

Jensen sniffed and held his head between his hands.

Wait a minute.

That didn't feel like Jeff's hand or sound like Jeff's voice.

"Jensen, time to come back. We got what we needed."

"Jay?" Jensen blinked hard and got his breathing under control.

"Yeah, it's me, love."

"What are you doing here?"

"I was down the street at the docks." Jared carded his fingers through Jensen's hair and he spoke in a quiet, careful tone. "I heard the last two minutes of your reading."

Jensen shook his head to clear it and then looked around. "Lily?"

From his right, he heard her whimper. "Are you okay, Mrs. Holt? That was pretty intense. I'm sorry."

Lily's voice was harsh and wet. "It's not like I haven't felt it all before."

Jensen leaned into Jared's hand. Jared's fingers rubbed soothing circles into Jensen's scalp. As Jensen got older, these strong emotions hit him harder and it took longer to separate from them. He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut to center himself.

"Did you find out anything?" he wheezed.

"I did," Jared hummed softly. "Between you and me and Lily, we have a lead. I spoke to an old stevedore who's roamed the docks for the past two hundred years. Said his name was Hiram Smallwood." Jared smiled, "He said to call him Hy. He told me what he heard and saw."

At this point they both seemed to have forgotten that there was a police lieutenant, a grieving daughter and a deputy DA-with rolling video-in the same room with them.

Jared ran his hand through Jensen's spiky hair one last time before turning to Lily. "Mrs. Holt, I'm Jared Padalecki, Jensen's partner from the Kapok Shade Agency, also working on the investigation into your father's murder. May I ask you a couple of questions? It won't take long."

She looked at Jeff.

"Jared's been working on this investigation along with us," Jeff explained.

"Ask your questions," she said, wearily.

"All I need is a yes or no." Jared looked at Jensen who felt sucked dry and ready to drop. "You okay, Jen?" Jared asked.

"I'm good. Go on."

Jared asked, "Do you know anyone who may have had a grudge or ill feelings against either you or your father?"

Lily's eyes opened wide. "Against me?"

Jared repeated, "Anyone who may have had any resentment toward either you or your dad?"

Lily shuddered when she nodded yes.

"Mrs. Holt, would you answer out loud, so I can get it on tape, please?" D.J. asked.

"Uh…yeah, yes."

"Would anyone have any financial gain now that your father is dead?" Jared looked at her intently.

"Yes."

"Would anyone have any financial gain if you were dead?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Jared touched her arm. "I'm sorry, I know this is difficult, but you're helping us so much."

"I'm okay, but, please hurry?"

"My source told me that there was a loud argument on the night your father was killed. Did he ever have shouting matches with any of his acquaintances?"

Lily frowned and said, "Only one that I know of…I mean…yes."

"Did your father call anyone a name that sounds like Lion?"

Lily's eyes filled with rage. She mumbled a low,"Yes."

Jensen reached out and held her hand. He sent quiet comfort through her fingertips while getting bombarded with her shock and anger.

Jensen composed himself. When his sight came into focus, he saw Jared, watching him intently. Jared ran his fingertips along Jensen's forearm and Jensen let him. He took a quick touch from Jared. They glanced silently at one another and said as one,

"It's the ex."



~~*~~*~~

"Evidence" obtained through empathy or ghost whispering or any exotic talent is never admissible in court. The Kapok Shade's job, as far as law enforcement was concerned, was to find possible suspects. Police detectives would evaluate the paranormal information and investigate if the information fit in with the crime and appeared plausible. If the cops knew who they were looking for and how the crime was committed, damning evidence would almost surely be found, because humans had the habit of messing up when committing crimes.

If the police were lucky and the perpetrator was barely holding it together, the use of an intimate narrative of the crime, provided by an "eye witness" could compel a full confession.

In Eliana Beaver's case, pretty much all Lieutenant Morgan had to do was to say that a reliable witness came forth (Hiram) and reported to one of their investigators (Jared) that she and her husband had been observed having an all-out shouting match on the docks on the evening of February twenty-eighth.

According to Hy, Eliana said, "You'll never prove that I forged your signature, and neither you nor your daughter will be able to take me to court," right before drawing a firearm from her green leather pocketbook and firing four shots.

Lieutenant Morgan explained that the witness saw the first two shots go wild, but the second two shots found their target. Two bullets from a Glock were recovered from the splintered dock and two were recovered from Jim Beaver's body.

"Eliana Beaver, Jim Beaver's SheLion, folded like a cheap umbrella," Jared said, hanging up the phone. "Jeff expresses his apologies for calling on a Sunday evening, sends his thanks for our work in solving the case, and gives his assurance that there's a check in the mail to the Kapok Shade Exotic Detective Agency from Metro City's Finest."

"Cheap umbrella?" Jensen raised an eyebrow.

"Anyone can fold like a cheap suit. I thought I'd give her a little distinction." Jared grinned, briefly. "She caused a whole lot of hurt."

"I know. I don't know why Lily Holt's reading got me so emotionally riled up," Jensen said. He swirled a glass of Fre Merlot and held it to the light before sniffing and sipping. Not bad for alcohol-free. "I've certainly been in the middle of far more gut-wrenching situations than that, but that one threw me for a loop." He sipped again.

"You and I never know how we're going to react to a case because every circumstance is different," Jared said, as he twirled the spaghetti with his fork. "I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle."

Jensen nodded. "You're probably right."

But Jared wasn't sure how Jensen could keep handling cases if his emotional reactions got stronger, and his emotional barriers got weaker. Jared's emotions were an open book to Jensen, but Jared kept his psychic barricade up at all times. However, it was all he could do, sometimes, not to peek into the future to see how Jensen would manage his evolving empathic powers.

"Stop thinking over there, I said you're probably right."

He was beginning to worry Jensen, so Jared quirked a smile and thrummed his fingers against the tabletop in a quick rhythm, bopping his head up and down. He began humming as he picked up a serving spoon and held it like a microphone.

"Friday night I crashed your party, Saturday I said I'm sorry, Sunday came and trashed me out again."

Jensen dropped his head, but his voice smiled when he said, "Okay. Here we go."

Jared sang louder. "I was only having fun, wasn't hurting anyone, and we all enjoyed the week end for a chaaange." He jumped out of his chair, belting out Billy Joel's lyrics into the microphonespoon.

"You may be right! I may be crazy, but it just may be a lunatic you're looking for." He pointed to Jensen who was laughing openly.

"Turn out the light! Don't try to save me. You may be wrong for all I know you may be right." Jared shimmied in front of Jensen. "You may be wrong but you may be right. You may be wrong but you may be right."

"Good Lord, Jared." Jensen wiped his eyes and stuttered out in between giggles. "That's so bad it's wonderful."

Jared ended the number by singing, "And you wouldn't want me any other waaaay."

Jensen looked to the heavens. "You are a lunatic."

Jared pulled his chair up to the table, put down his microphone and sat. "You may be right," he said.

"Now that that musical interlude is over." Jensen chuckled as he tore off a piece of crusty, warm, Italian bread and dipped it into the seasoned olive oil before taking a bite. "Man, I love that you can cook."

Jared feigned disappointment. "Is that all you love about me?"

"I don't know. How's your stamina tonight? I could love that, too." Jensen licked the spaghetti sauce from the corner of his mouth. "As long as no singing is involved."

"No promises." Jared finished off the last of his real wine, placed his fork at the edge of his plate, and stood. He yawned, stretched his arms out to the side dramatically and announced, "Well, I'm ready for bed."

Jensen looked up, quizzically. "But it's only seven-twenty."

"Yep. A whole twelve hours and ten minutes before we have to get out of bed again."

Jensen smirked. "That's pretty big talk."

"I'm a pretty big guy." Jared nudged Jensen's shoulder and made a mad dash to their upstairs bedroom. He heard a kitchen chair crash to the floor and Jensen yell as he gained speed, "Oh, it is so on!"



~~*~~*~~

Next Thursday Afternoon

~~*~~*~~

Jared's office was one floor above Jensen's, and on the opposite side of the building. Usually, they worked different cases and had found that their energies could concentrate better on their clients if they had some space between them. Plus, Jensen had to be able to walk outside when he needed to clear his fields. That seemed to be happening more and more often.

Today's meeting with Mrs. Ferris would be in Jared's office overlooking the barren courtyard from two stories up. It was early spring. No flowers were blooming yet, and there was still a nip in the air.

Jensen flipped through the information Chau had amassed for him and gave Jared the essentials:

"Okay, so, I've been through Samantha Ferris's history, and here are the high points. Husband, Nathan Ferris, merged his small but up-and-coming pharmaceutical company, Sarris HealthCare, with Mark Pellegrino's fledgling, but well-funded, company, Pharm Call, twelve years ago and they became the highly profitable P & F PharmCare Corp, LLC. Nathan died three and a half years ago leaving his wife with the controlling shares of the company.

"Up until then, she was in the background as the CEO's wife. She attended charity luncheons, political functions, fund raisers, etcetera, on her husband's arm and all she'd contributed to the company was her name and face." Jensen held up her picture for Jared to see. "She's a beautiful woman."

Jared was pacing, as he often did when receiving information, but stopped and glanced at her photo. "But now?"

"Now, she's the very capable, very savvy Chief Financial Officer of this huge, successful, multinational conglomerate and sits on the board of directors. Apparently, all this time, she was more than just a pretty face."

"How is Pellegrino with all this?"

"When Nathan died, Pellegrino became the sole CEO of the company. Pellegrino and Nate Ferris were co-executive officers of P & F PharmCare and both sat on the board of directors. Pellegrino's status hasn't changed, except that his title is exclusive now. Technically, Sam Ferris reports to Mark Pellegrino, but she is the major shareholder. However, from what Chau gathered, they run the corporation together amicably."

Jared paced a few more steps and then sat. "That's all very interesting, but do we know why she wants to hire us?"

Jensen frowned. "I would have thought she might want to contact her husband, but that would be a job for just you. Chau said that Mrs. Ferris was adamant about meeting with both of us."

Jared looked at his watch. The comm button on his desk lit up and Osric's voice came through. "Gentlemen, your one o'clock appointment is here. I'm having her acknowledge all our usual waivers and disclaimers."

"Thanks Osric. Escort her up to my office when you're done." Jared smiled at Jensen. "I guess we're about to find out what the head of a multibillion dollar corporation wants with a couple of exotic investigators."

Jensen smiled back. He buttoned his top button and rolled down his sleeves. He'd taken to wearing soft, kid leather gloves when meeting someone for the first time, and he donned them now.

Osric knocked softly before opening Jared's door, and he was Osric today-dressed in gray slacks and a white button-down shirt with a blue and red striped tie. Jared had long ago stopped trying to guess which office manager and personal assistant would show up for work in the morning.

"Mrs. Ferris, this is Jared Padalecki." Osric indicated Jared, who was already standing. "And this is Jensen Ackles. Both together as promised." Jensen stood and smiled pleasantly, placing his gloved hands into his pockets.

Samantha Ferris wore a cobalt blue v-neck dress with a plain black suit jacket. Her light brown hair, with a touch of gray at the temples, was swooped into a low, elegant bun, and her manicured fingertips were the same deep red that glossed her lips. She had a small, black leather purse hanging from her left shoulder and in her right hand was a black, wooden walking cane with a silver handle. Her skin was sallow, bordering on yellow, and her eyes were dull.

"Thanks Osric, please have a seat, Mrs. Ferris," Jared said. "How may we help you?"

The woman moved slowly with short, painful-looking steps to the comfortable chair across from Jared's desk. She sat, leaned her cane against the armrest, and regarded Jared with shrewd eyes.

"You're the psychic?" Samantha Ferris's voice was ground raw.

"Clairvoyance is one of my exotic talents," Jared replied, evenly.

"Do you know why I'm here, then?"

"I assure you, Mrs. Ferris, I never delve into anyone's forces without explicit permission. Professionally, it's unethical, and legally, it's Invasion of Privacy bordering on assault. Even with permission, it's not like I can snap my fingers and all knowledge just magically falls into place." Jared was used to the initial apprehension and, sometimes outward distrust people had for someone who can see their past, present and possible future. He would push past their rudeness and put them at ease by answering the questions as honestly and confidently as he could.

But, there was something powerful emitting from the tired woman sitting in front of him.

"I assure you," Jared said. "Your secrets are safe from me."

She nodded and turned to Jensen. "You're the empath. I'll need you first." Her eyes softened a moment and then ticked up to Jared. "I'll need you next."

Jensen took a small step forwards. "Maybe if you tell us why you're here, we can be the judge of who you need to see first."

Samantha stared sadly at Jensen.

He smiled, lightly. "After all, we are the experts."

"Not necessarily." She inhaled and let it out slowly. A grimace crossed her face but was gone as quickly as it had come.

Jared tried again. "Mrs. Ferris, please tell us what we can do to help you."

Instead of speaking, Samantha took a checkbook from her purse. She scribbled an amount and held it out to Jensen. "Here. Take this and see if it's enough to contract your services for discrete reasons, and for as speedy a resolution as possible."

Jensen crept closer, taking the check by the tip of the corner. His eyebrows climbed to his hairline. He handed the check to Jared.

Jared glanced at the check and quickly schooled his features. An amount that would pay for several months in a five star Caribbean getaway reflected back at him.

"Yes," Jensen said. "That amount would certainly pay for our services, depending on what you want us to do." He glanced at Jared.

Jared unlocked the top drawer to his desk, deposited the check inside and re-locked it.

"Good. I need you to find someone for me." Samantha spoke softly with her head down. "They have something I need."

Jensen pushed the rolling desk chair over to sit across from his would-be client. "Tell us."

She raised her head and clamped her jaw tight. It looked to Jared like she was trying not to cry. She shook her head and looked at the floor, muttering words that he couldn't make out.

Jensen leaned in close to her. "I'm sorry, I can't hear you."

Before Jared could react, Samantha snapped up, and grabbed onto Jensen's face-his only exposed skin-and held on. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I have to do this. I'm sorry."

Jensen jumped away and flew back so fast that he hit the back wall. He held his cheek, scratched by Samantha's fingernails, and slid to the floor.

Jared was on her in a shot. "What did you do?" He held her by the wrist. Over his shoulder he called, "Jense, are you okay?"

All that came back was a soft moan.

"Start talking, Mrs. Ferris." Jared punched the comm key. "Osric, get up here now."

"You need to find a murderer. You need to find my murderer." Ferris's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm sorry, but time is running out and I have to do this."

Osric banged open the door.

"Go help Jensen." Jared didn't take his eyes off Samantha. "And call Lt. Morgan. Tell him to send someone over here now."

He narrowed his eyes on her. "I'm going to ask you one more time. What did you do?"

He held tight to her wrist and looked over his shoulder. Osric was helping Jensen stand up. Outside of the leaking scratches on his cheek, and being a little unsteady, he seemed all right.

Osric seated him in another chair and handed him a napkin. "Are you okay, Jensen?"

Jared held his breath.

Jensen's eyes zeroed in on Sam Ferris's. He patted his face with the napkin, looked at the smears of blood and said, "I don't think so."

"What's going on?" Osric asked.

Jensen drew in a big breath, exhaling slowly. "Osric?"

"Yeah?"

"Cancel my three-thirty."



~~*~~*~~
On to Part Three
~~*~~*~~