~***~

I really did hate sitting in the back seat, but I knew the drill. Men sat in the front all the time. It sucked major ass. After a couple of hours, Dean pulled over at a gas station. "Alright, just need to fill Baby up real quick and we'll be on our way." I smiled gently and stepped out of the Impala, stretching my arms above my head, feeling my back pop.

"I'm gonna go get some cigarettes. You want anything Sammy?" I ask as I lean down in the window, staring at the moose. He shook his head. I shrugged and turned to Dean. "What about you?"

"I'll get something in a second, you go ahead and grab what you want." He chimes, smiling when I shrug again before heading towards the shit station.

The place was dirty and run down. Not a place for a little lady like myself, but that's what I had my bowie knife for. Gazing around, I take note to the wallpaper hanging from the walls, dust gathering in every corner, and it even had a little greasy dude behind the counter. He looked up as a entered, a smirk replacing the sneer he held. He lifted up his hands, running it over what little hair he had. I rolled my eyes, hating that stare. I sauntered over to the cooler, tugging out a coke. The selection of chips was seriously lacking, but the growl of my stomach had me grab a few bags before going to the counter. "Marlboro Black, 100's." I set down my stuff, looking at the greasy little man. He reached back, grasping the cancer pack before holding his hand out. I sigh lightly before fishing out my fake ID and set it on the counter. After finally letting me purchase my stuff, his hand grasped my wrist, a smirk on his lips. "Sorry, I don't like men." I say blantly, snatching my hand back and storming off with my stuff. As I exited, Dean gazed at me quizzically, cocking his head.

"Don't ask." I clip, getting into the car and ripping open a bag of chips. Dean plopped in the car after a moment or two with a shit-ton of snacks. A smile appeared on my lips and I immediately felt a little defended to think that he went in there and raised hell. But hey, I could be wrong.

"How'd you pay for all this crap? You and Dad still running credit card scams?" Sam asked as Dean tossed me back a honey bun.

"Yeah, I mean, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career. You know that. And! Just to make things a little clear, Lottie suggested it to Dad a long time ago!" I grinned with a mouth full of pastry. "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

"And what names were placed on the applications this time around?" Sam asked as he swung his legs back around into the car, closing the door

Dean took a moment to think. "Uh, Burt Aframian, his son Hector and his daughter Helga." He replied, trying to do a british accent, and failing miserably. "We scored three cards out of the deal."

"Oh, ja, I love me das credit cards." I hum, making Dean snort with laughter.

Sam chuckled a bit before going back to the cassette box. "Dude, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection." Sam changed the subject.

"Why?" Dean sounded seriously offended and I found myself somewhat offended too. Those are the best hits of the century.

"Well, one, they're cassette tapes. And two, it's the greatest hits of the mullet rock." He said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Don't diss the mullet. Business in the front, party in the back." I punch Sam's shoulder, making him grimace. Dean swiped a cassette tape and popped it into the player.

"Well, well, well, what do you think of that Sammy? House rules. Driver picks the music..." Dean blared the music, AC/DC blasting through the car, my head starting to bob to the beat and my fingers drumming along with the drummer. "And shotgun shuts his cake hole."

"But Dean-" Sam tried to argue.

"Shut up."

Sam sighed in defeat. "And Sammy is a chubby twelve year old. It's Sam, okay?"

"Sammy, I've called you that since we met, you can't just take that privilege away from me." I retort, tugging at his hair.

"You're different, Lottie." Sam started, turning in his seat to look at me. "You have permission."

"Chicken Permission?" I coo, laughing with Sammy. I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him, pressing my cheek against his.

"Hey! No fair! I've called you Sammy way longer than she has! How come she gets Chicken Permission?!" Dean exclaimed, hurt clearly evident on his face.

I shot him a flirty smirk. "Don't worry Dean. Even if you're not Sammy's favorite, you can be my second favorite." I coo, pinching his cheek, seeing as I was still glued to Sammy's face.

"Second favorite?!"

Sammy wrapped his arms around me, the both of us staring at Dean. "Picture perfect, the two of us. We're two peas in a pod. We're non-biological siblings. Pretty sure we were split at birth, that kind of mumbo jumbo." I recite.

"I still have the scar from where she was detached." Sammy added. We both started howling with laughter.

"So, let me get this straight. My brothers siamese twin is a hot dame?" He wondered aloud. "Man, no wonder you looked so goofy as a kid." I started dying with laughter as Sam had a look of offence. The car was soon filled with laughter. And it's times like these that I treasure most of all.

~***~

By the time we reached Jericho, Sammy was already calling nearby places, calling everywhere that might have caught a wiff of John. "Thank you." Sam ended the call. "There's no one matching Dad's description at the hospital's or the morgue's. So that's something, I guess."

"Better than nothing." I leaned forward, looking between the two.

Dean pulled the car over at a bridge after he spotted some cops gathering. And from the looks of it, it seemed to be a crime scene. He shut the engine off and reached into the glove compartment.

"Dude. What is all that?" Sam asked, taking not of the box full of fake ID's. Dean ignored him, rummaging through and taking out three of the same kind. He tossed one to Sam and mine back to me.

"Let's go." He got out of the car and Sammy and I quickly followed.

The deputy was standing by the bridges railing, leaning over the side in order to talk to the men below the river. "You find anything?" I hear him yell.

"No! Nothing!" A man yelled from the rivers depths. The deputy, Jaffee, from what I heard from another officer, sighed and turned back to face the car that was in the middle of the bridge. Another deputy, Hein, was ducked behind one side of the car, crouching and circling the car.

"I don't know what to tell ya, Jaffee. There's no sign of a struggle, no foot prints, no fingerprints. It's spotless. It's almost too clean." The deputy noted.

Jaffee sighed, "So, the kid, Troy. He's dating your daughter, isn't he?"

"Yeah." Hein nodded.

"How's Amy doin'?"

Hein stood back up and scratched his head. "She's putting up missing person's posters downtown."

Dean, Sam, and I reached the scene at this point. According to John, I had a natural sense of authority, so I was excellent at playing FBI. "You fellas had another one like this last month, didn't you?" Dean stated, making our appearance known.

Deputy Jaffee looked him up and down in suspicion. "And who are you?"

We all flashed our badges. "We're Federal Marshals."

"You three a little young for marshals, aren't you?"

"Aw, Thank you kindly, hun." I hum, stepping forward. "Trainin' a coupla newbies." I state, jutting my thumb towards the brothers. "Now, you did have another one just like this, correct?" I reask the question.

Jaffee nodded. "Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There's been others before that."

"So this victim," Sam inquired, making his way around the car as well. "You knew him?"

"Little town like this, everyone knows everybody." I state to Sam, shrugging my shoulders. "Any connections between the victims? Aside that they're all men?" I add, rolling my eyes a little when his eyes raked over my chest. Men are pigs. I tell ya. But damn, I have a soft spot for 'em.

"No," Jaffee said sheepishly, looking away. "Not as far as we can tell."

"So what's the theory?"

Jaffee shrugged, crossing his arms. "Honestly?" He began. "We don't know. Serial Murder? Kidnapping Ring?"

Dean scoffed. "Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." At that moment, I dug my elbow into his gut while Sam crashed his foot down on Dean's.

"That'll be all gentlemen. Thank you for your time. Come on, boys." I snap, dragging them off before they started fighting.

"Maps in the car, gentlemen. Not on her ass." I hear Dean growl behind him. They all went back to work after their faces flushed with blood. I looked over my shoulder at Dean, lowering my aviators, and muttering a soft 'Thank you'. He smirked as I turned back around. Then a smack rang through the air, my eyes rolling out of habit.

"Ow!" Sam yelped. "What was that for?!" He rubbed his head gently. I leaned against the Impala, staring at them.

"Could you be anymore unprofessional?" I snap, crossing my arms.

Dean pointed at Sam. "But he-"

"I don't care who started it. I'm ending it." I snap, pointing at Dean. "You do not talk to police like that, got it?"

"Come on, Lottie." Dean started, "They don't know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad, we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves."

"We still-" Sam stared, but stopped when he spotted the sheriff a bit in the distance. Two real FBI agents were on the scene. I snorted lightly as Dean referred to them as Scully and Mulder.

Sam rolled his eyes and sat in the front seat. "Alright. We're going downtown. I think we should find and talk to the Deputy's daughter."

~***~

They weren't kidding when they said small towns and everyone knows everyone, because it took literally no time to find Hein's daughter. She was currently by the town's movie theatre, tacking up posters of what I can only assume to be Troy's face. Sam, Dean, and I watched from the car across the street.

"I am so ashamed of the both of you, ya know." I hum, plopping my head atop my hand. "This is a new level of creep. Follow my lead." I state, gripping their ears and tugging once before exiting the Impala. I jogged across the street, tugging down on of the posters I passed and approached the young lady. "Excuse me? Amy Hein?" I call, smiling when she looked over.

"Yes.... That's me. What do you want?" She had a guarded look as she covered her chest with her stack of papers.

I held up the paper, smiling sweetly. "I'm Agent Lockwood, with the FBI. I'm down here investigating the disappearance of young Troy. I have a few questions, if that's alright with you." I fold up the paper, tucking it into my coat pocket after flashing my ID. Dean and Sam appeared behind me. "These two gentlemen are Troy's uncles and they got some questions they need to ask as well." I say, pointing behind me. A killer grin slipped onto my lips and her shoulders dropped in ease.

Her friend jogged up, giving me a suspicious look. "Hey, are you okay?" She asked Amy calmly. "Who's this?" Her voice was hostile and I found myself fighting the urge to tell her to back up and go play at home.

"Don't worry, Rachel. This is Agent Lockwood with the FBI. She's trying to help find Troy." Amy reassured her friend. "And, I'm fine." I flashed my pearly whites as Rachel gave me another distrustful look.

~***~

We all sat at a crowded booth at a local Diner, a notebook sitting on my lap as I jotted down some doodles, acting like I was taking serious notes. "Now, before we start, Troy's Uncles would like to ask some questions. And since most of 'em are what I'm required to ask, I thought I'd let them have the honor while I took down some notes."

"Alright, so what exactly happened last night when Troy went missing? I was told you were talking to him?" Sam asked after I finished my introduction. I fought myself to laugh as I jotted down a very detailed picture of Dean with a fancy sombrero and a handlebar mustache.

"Yeah. I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home at the time. Somewhere along the was he said he could call me right back... but he never did." Amy recited, gripping the handle of her mug tightly. I looked up after drawing a large bubbly heart with Dean's name in cursive tattoo'd on it.

"He didn't say anything strange? Out of the ordinary?" I inquire, cocking my head.

Amy shook her head. "No, no. Not that I remember." She reached up and gripped her necklace.

"I gotta tat' just like that." I say with a smile, rubbing at forearm, staring down at my at the anti-possession 'tat. I was told by an old hunter when I was eighteen that it would be a good investment. And I had just gotten into it with John and I thought this would piss him off real good. And it did. I remember my knuckles bleeding for a day and a half after that.

"Troy gave it to me a while back. Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff." She said gently.

"Actually, it means just the opposite." Sam stated. "A pentagram is a sign of protection against evil. It's really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing."

"Okay, thank you Unsolved Mysteries." Dean cut Sam off before he could say anymore. He got their attention by leaning forward. "Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, there's something not right. So if you've heard anything, anything at all." The girls looked at each other instantly and shared a nervous look. I raised my eyebrows and straightened out.

"Anything you have will be a great help, ladies." I drawl, snapping my notebook closed.

"Well, it's just... I mean with all these guys going missing, people talk." Rachel stated.

We all leaned forward and spoke at the same time. "What do the talk about?" I sat up straight and held an annoyed look. I hated when we did that.

Rachel sighed and shot Amy another glance, who nodded encouragingly. "It's nothing really. It's just this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like, decades ago. It's supposed that she's still out there." She hesitates before continuing. "She hitch hikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear.... forever."

"Library." Sam suddenly said. I got up quickly and scrawled out a fake number on a napkin.

"You think of anything else, you give me a call, alright?" I say with a smile, leaving the napkin on the table and followed the boys out.

We all piled into the Impala when Dean turned to me. "Did you draw me with a sombrero?" He asked, amusement in his eyes. I snort and tug it out of the notebook, handing it over. He laughed as he gazed at it, throwing his head back with laughter. "I'll treasure it forever!" Sam looked over and snorted, urging Dean to start driving before we got distracted.

~***~

I sat besides Dean as he sat at a computer at the library, Sam on the other side. I let out a soft huff as Dean continued to get multiple leads that lead nowhere. "Let me try." Sam finally said, making me snap up, flinching as Dean slapped at Sam's hands.

"I got it!" He exclaimed. Sam rolled his eyes and shoved out of his chair and across my lap. I held onto him and helped him upright. "Dude!" Dean snapped back, shoving him. I stood up and grasped their ears, tugging them apart and plopping down in the middle of them.

"You're both so stupid, I hope you know that." I snap, slapping at Dean's hands as he tried to grasp at the keyboard and mouse.

He rubbed at his hands, staring at me. "You know, I think I like this controlling side of you." Dean commented, a smirk over his face. "It's really hot."

"I have the perfect outfit for it, too." I flirt, winking at him. He coughed a bit, scratching at the back of his head.

"Yeah, yeah." He mutters, gripping my thigh discretely. A smile slipped onto my lips and I crossed my legs as I start typing.

"Anyways. Angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?" I ask, looking towards Sam. He nodded, flickering his eyes to the screen and my face. "So, what if it wasn't murder?" I highlighted the word murder, replacing it with 'suicide'. I hit the enter key and one article popped up. I clicked on it and the title read, 'Suicide on Centennial'. Dean shot a glance at Sam. "This article is from 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river," I read, smacking Dean's hand that started to travel up my thigh.

Dean rubbed at his hand, staring at the screen. "Does it say why she did it?" Dean asked.

My eyes scanned the article and sadness filled my stomach. "Uhh, yeah.... It says here that an hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently, her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die," I frown more. I hated cases where children die. Even if I had no desire to be a mother, it must've been heart wrenching for Constance.

"Our babies are gone," Sam continued when I couldn't. "And Constance just couldn't bear it, said Husband, Joesph Welch." He stopped, looking at the photograph.

Dean suddenly leaned over me, his breath fanning out over my shoulder, shivers running up my back. "Hey, wait a moment. Does that bridge look familiar to you?" He asked, pointing at the photo.

"Hey, yeah. It's the bridge with the ass oggler's." I sigh, leaning backwards. I scratch at the back of my neck before crossing my arms. This was going to be one long case. I could tell.