The warehouse near the beach was surprisingly easy to find. Getting information out of the Harbor Kings had been much easier than either Winchester expected.
Now the warehouse floor was littered with unconscious men — some slumped against overturned crates, others sprawled across the concrete groaning after making the mistake of fighting back.
Broken chairs, scattered tools, and a few dropped weapons completed the scene.
Dean slowly looked around while lowering his pistol. "Sammy, don't you think hunting monsters is easier than dealing with scum like this?"
Sam holstered his weapon. "Honestly, yeah. At least monsters usually know they're monsters."
Dean nodded. Human beings constantly found ways to convince themselves they weren't the bad guys.
After years of hunting, he had discovered that some humans were far worse than anything hiding under a bed.
Stepping over a fallen gang member, Dean grabbed one of the few conscious men by the front of his jacket and hauled him upright.
Blood trickled from a cut above the man's eyebrow. Dean slapped his cheek twice. "Wake up." Another slap. "Rise and shine."
The man's eyes finally opened. The moment he focused on the two men standing over him, panic appeared on his face — which told both hunters everything. He knew exactly what this was about.
"Good. Now we can talk."
"I don't know anything."
Dean sighed. The interrogation had barely started and the lying had already begun.
"See, that's funny, because I haven't actually asked a question yet."
The man's mouth snapped shut.
Sam crouched beside Dean. Unlike his brother, he didn't look angry — which somehow made people even more nervous.
"Twelve days ago, something fell out of the sky near the beach." The gangster froze briefly.
"A group of armed men arrived before the police. Those men took somebody from the crash site."
No answer. Dean grabbed his chin and forced him to look forward.
"We don't know where he is!"
The words escaped before he could stop them. Silence settled over the warehouse.
Dean and Sam exchanged a glance. The man realized a second later and immediately looked like he wanted to swallow the words back.
Dean's expression brightened slightly. "See? We're making progress."
Sam folded his arms. "Who took him?"
The gangster's eyes drifted across the warehouse floor, taking in the unconscious bodies of his friends and coworkers.
"It wasn't us. We grabbed him from the beach, but we didn't keep him."
Sam leaned forward. "You grabbed him?"
"He was unconscious. Glowing blue. Nobody knew what he was. We brought him here, and after that some rich guy got involved. We got paid and handed everything over."
Everything. Dean didn't like that word. Not when they were talking about Henry. "Who arranged it?"
"Jasper. Jasper Vale." The man shifted uncomfortably.
"He's a broker. Finds buyers, finds sellers. Rich collectors use him all the time."
Dean tightened his grip. "Where do we find Jasper?"
"I really don't know. He moves around. We only deal with him when somebody wants something sold." The fear on his face looked genuine enough.
Then another question occurred to Dean. "By the way, who's East King?"
The gangster blinked. Then a strange smile appeared on his face. Dean didn't like that smile.
"What's funny?"
"You guys seriously don't know?" The man looked between the brothers, then pointed at himself. "I'm East King."
Neither Winchester spoke for several seconds. East King's smile disappeared under their combined stares.
Then Dean pulled out his pistol. East King's eyes widened immediately as the barrel pressed against his forehead.
Dean's voice was calm. Dangerously calm. "You told me what happened twelve days ago. Now tell me where I find Jasper."
"I-I don't know."
Dean pressed slightly harder. "If I hear that one more time, I'm going to start believing you're wasting my time."
East King looked desperately toward Sam. Sam stood with his arms crossed, unmoved. The gangster was on his own.
"You don't have to know where Jasper lives," Sam said. "You only need to remember where he might show up."
The gangster forced himself to think. Several moments passed.
"There was a private exhibition." His eyes moved as he searched his memory. "Jasper mentioned attending something. At Marcus Baker's mansion."
Sam recognized the name immediately. One of the wealthiest men in Los Angeles. Real estate, private investments, collector circles. The kind of man who moved through exclusive events most people never heard about.
Dean lowered the gun slightly. "Baker."
East King nodded. "Jasper said he was attending a private gathering there. Collectors, investors. That sort of thing."
It fit. A broker like Jasper would move through those circles naturally. And if Henry had been sold to someone with money, the trail pointed directly there.
"Location?" Sam asked.
"You don't need me for that. Baker's one of the biggest names in this city. His property isn't hidden."
Dean studied him for a long moment, weighing the fear against the answer. Both looked genuine. He lowered the pistol and stood.
"If you lied to me—" He glanced across the warehouse floor. The unconscious bodies made the rest of the sentence unnecessary.
East King nodded quickly. "No lies."
Dean turned toward the exit. Sam followed.
*****
🔥 For Advanced Chapters Join My Patreon 🔥
👉 patreon.com/DeathNote4455
🚀 Get early access to 24 Advanced chapters.