"Mr. Jones?" James asks, his voice low and authoritative. "We'd like to ask you a few questions."

Frederick Jones sighs. "I've gone over this a million times. What more do you want? A lie detector test? Bring it out! I don't remember anything, I'll prove it!"

Emma nudges Castiel and whispers, "Anger management issues? Seems like a normal murderer trait."

Castiel just shakes his head. No one likes repeating themselves over and over, especially if they know that no one truly cares what they say. It seems everyone but the judge has already decided he's guilty. Fortunately, the three of them -- or two of them; it seems Emma's already made up her mind -- are a little less sure.

"I don't think that will be necessary," is all James says as he takes a seat across from the man, his hands clasped together on the interrogation table. He looks very professional doing this — not angry or in a humorous mood, which seem to be Dean's two defaults. It's an interesting change, neither welcome nor unwelcome. "I'm Special Agent Buchanan, and these are my partners, Agents Maximoff and Worley."

"For a second there, I thought you just hopped out of the Marvel universe," Frederick remarks. "Worley, on the other hand..."

James chuckles. "We hear that every time. Wasn't good planning on the feds' part, putting us two together."

Though no one explicitly says it, Castiel gets the feeling he may have helped them here, even without saying anything. He had his own fake badge with his own fake name. Had they given him a name like Stark or Rogers, no one would have missed that so-called coincidence. And, as someone who rarely seems to be of use on average cases, he's rather proud of this.

"You're feds?" Frederick repeats, his face paling. "What — why are the feds here? I don't even remember doing anything, and now the FBI —"

"We know," James says calmly. "And we believe you."

"Well..." Emma says quietly, though her voice isn't low enough to stop Frederick from hearing, judging by the concerned expressions he wears when he looks at her.

"Okay, I believe you," James amends. "And I want to figure this out, same as you. But to do that, I'm going to need you to cooperate, okay? Answer all my questions, fully and honestly."

Frederick just nods.

"What do you remember?"

Fredrick shrugs. "I don't know. I went to the mall with my wife. Next thing I know, I'm lying in a hospital bed in handcuffs."

James nods sympathetically. "And before this happened, had you noticed anything weird?"

"No, nothing," Frederick says. "Same old quiet happenings in a quiet town."

"No cold spots, flickering lights, anything?"

Frederick raises an eyebrow. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Electric shortages," James explains without hesitation. "The wrong power issues can cause all kinds of problems to people's health."

Castiel looks at him, surprised. He covered that one up easily. The Winchesters were good, but they weren't that quick on their feet.

"Oh, well..." Frederick thinks for a moment. "I don't think so. I don't remember any off the top of my head."

James nods solemnly. "Probably for the best. Any weird smells?"

"What, like, a chemical leak?" Frederick asks.

"Exactly like that," James says, and Castiel can only assume he's glad he didn't have to think of a lie for that one.

"I don't know," Frederick admits. "I don't even know what would be considered a weird smell."

"Sulfur, maybe? James suggests.

Frederick stares at him for a moment. "Do most people you talk to know what sulfur smells like off the top of their heads?"

James chuckles. "I guess not. No, it's kind of like raw egg."

"I think someone was making eggs at the hospital when I woke up," Frederick offers.

James gives him a small smile. "Okay. Thank you for your time."

"That's it?" Frederick asks. "Did I help my case at all? I don't even know what just happened."

"Unfortunately," James says, "we will have to do a few follow ups with other people we've spoken to before we can make a final decision."

Frederick frowns. "Okay. Just, please hurry, will you? I loved my wife. If I killed her, I want to know why."

"I know you do," James says. "and we'll figure that out soon, I promise."

And with that, they leave.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Emma says, "This is so much easier when you do all the work and I just get to stand there and listen."

James sighs dramatically. "And this is why teamwork doesn't make the dream work."

"Well, what do you think?" Castiel asks. "Demon?"

James shrugs. "I don't know. I mean, someone might have been eating eggs at the hospital."

Emma raises an eyebrow. "Mm, I'm sure that's it."

James chuckles. "Yeah, no, it's probably a demon."

"If it is, the demon's probably long gone," Castiel remarks. "They don't tend to stay in one place very long."

"Touché," Emma agrees.

It's then that the chief of police appears, his face pale. "Oh, good, you're all together."

"What is it?" James asks.

"There was another murder."