Eleven years ago, she was a gawky seventeen year old with braces and bad skin, a skinny, awkward, undirected mess of a kid who stayed lost in books and television shows. Eleven years ago, she was a scared kid who saw something impossible, learned something unbearable, and met someone fantastic who turned her whole world upside down.
Now here she was in 2013 staring across a crowded Homestyle Café in Waco, Texas, on a Saturday morning over a fruit topped waffle at the man who had – unknowingly – changed her life. At least she was pretty sure it was him. Similar haircut even after all these years, eyes so green she could tell from her seat halfway across the room, quick smiles for the waitress but a face that looked like he'd seen some tough times. Maybe even more handsome than she remembered, which was surprising because she thought he was one gorgeous guy? He was sitting at the table with another man so big that it made him look little; big guy had longish hair and chiseled features. She's pretty sure it's him; pretty sure this was the first hunter she had ever met and a legend in the hunting world.
Well, she thinks, when I put out a call for help on the hunter hotline, I guess I ought to consider myself lucky that someone who has been doing this so long shows up to help. May as well go reintroduce myself.
She hangs her computer bag on her shoulder, scoops up her plate, silverware and ticket in one hand and her coffee mug in the other and carefully makes her way across the room setting it all down on their table without spilling anything. "Name's Ronnie Carpenter. I think you gentlemen are the hunters I called in for help." She settles her computer case on the chair behind her and offers her hand. "You're Dean Winchester if I'm remembering correctly. You'll have to introduce me to this tall drink of water with you."
Dean takes in the woman in front of him. Tallish, probably five foot nine or ten in low-heeled boots. Brownish hair with copper highlights tightly controlled in a braid, dark brown eyes, and skin lightly tanned from outdoor work even though it's only February. Not bad looking, but not overly memorable, too lean for his usual tastes. He racks his brain trying to remember when he'd been to Waco before, came up with a long time ago with Dad. This woman is probably mid-to-late twenties, which would make her… "Veronica Carpenter?" Dean asks.
When he gets a nod, he goes on. "Meet my little brother, Sam. I think I remember telling you about him. He was away at college at the time." He gives her another once-over glance. "So, you've changed."
Ronnie turns to shake hands with Sam, meeting the assessing look in his intelligent hazel eyes. "Pleased to meet you, Ronnie." He glances back to his brother. "You didn't say you knew the hunter who was looking for back up."
With the introductions out of the way, Ronnie draws her computer out of the bag and sits down, motioning for a coffee refill and cutting off a slice of her waffle. "You guys order yet? Because these waffles – they're worth it. Different fruit toppings too. We can talk some here, but not too much. After we eat, I'd rather you follow me back to my office to get filled in. Maybe make a plan."
Dean and Sam place their orders, but Dean wants to figure out how the kid he met turned into a hunter. Being Dean, he flat out asks without beating around the topic first. Breakfast passes pretty quickly. Ronnie learns John Winchester is dead, but she's too unsure to ask them about a bunch of crazy rumors she's heard about them. Through skillful questioning, Sam gets her talking about herself, filling him in on how she first met his older brother.
"Your dad and Dean showed up out of the blue when I was in high school. We, me and my dad, had just moved to Waco. Bought an old place right outside of town. Dad thought it was a good deal, but the place was haunted." She sips at her coffee, thinking back to everything those few words brought to mind. Haunted? She would never have believed that was real before it was her life being invaded. It sure is different when it's happening to you instead of on a television screen.
"Your dad and your brother, they were just…" Ronnie trails off trying to find the words. "Heroes. Larger than life. Helping me make sense of it. Letting me know I wasn't crazy." She turns to face Dean. "You changed my life you know. I couldn't go back to acting like the supernatural was make believe. I had to do something. So I finished up my senior year. Joined the military to get some training. Served four years and starting taking classes in investigations. Read everything I could get my hand on about ghosts and cryptozoology. When I got out of the service, I went to school and became a private investigator. That's my day job, but I follow up on the stuff no one else believes in – to help other people, like you helped me."
Dean ducks his head as though avoiding praise, but Sam notices and pushes for more details. "I like to hear the stories about my big brother, the hero," Sam urges her to continue. "He doesn't get to hear it enough to make it stick." There's an edge to his voice that Ronnie can't place, but she falls silent, even as Dean shoots his brother a fierce look. "Give it a rest, Sam."
The two men finish their waffles and coffee and all three hunters head for the exit, Ronnie insisting on picking up the tab. She gives them the address and directions to her office, telling them she'll meet them there as she stops to pay the cashier.
Carpenter Investigations is a big room attached to a clapboard three bedroom home a few blocks from the old downtown area of Waco, the side heading away from the big Baptist university that helps keep part of the downtown area from the squalor of poverty. Waco is an old city, built on the site of an older culture. Two rivers running through the town helped keep it alive in the water-obsessed central part of the state.
The office area might have once been a two-car garage, but it has a desk, conference table, half bath and kitchenette. Ronnie invites the guys to join her at the conference table and hooks her laptop into a large flat-screen monitor. She starts running through her documents on the case she has asked for help with. Three children are already missing, snatched from parks near Lake Waco and presumed dead, in the past month. Police are looking for a pedophile, but Ronnie thinks it's a different type of predator.
"What makes you think this isn't just another frikkin pervert?" Dean knows that some people see supernatural explanations because thinking people are capable of the crap they are is disheartening. "Because so far, sounds like the cops are on the right trail. So what kind of monster do you think is doing this?"
Dean's being a little short-tempered, but not overtly rude, Sam thinks. His older brother came back from Purgatory with sharper edges; he cuts unintentionally sometimes. Sam steps in to smooth the waters a little, falling easily into his role as buffer. "Do you have an idea of what's doing this – anything that'll help us flush out and get rid of it?"
Ronnie flushes. "Okay, guys, I realize I've only been doing this four years – and you two – well, you're legendary. But I wouldn't have called for help if I wasn't sure it was a supernatural problem. As for being positive what it is…the answer is no. But I have an idea, based on the research I've done about Lake Waco."
Ronnie starts a slideshow she has put together of similar problems in the Lake Waco area. News reports date back to the mid-1800's with reoccurrences every 30-35 years. She tells them local legends call it a Goatman, but they disagree on what exactly a Goatman is.
In one version, the Goatman is a demon, bi-pedal cloven-hoofed and horned like his father the devil. In another that the creature is the result of scientific experimentation in a North Texas laboratory, some kind of large six-to-eight foot tall human-animal hybrid meant to be a weapon that became too much trouble for his handlers, who accidently released him into the near West, a town just north of the city. A third explanation is that a Goatman is fairy in nature, a satyr. An earlier legend says he was the result of a goat-rancher who got too lonely and couldn't bring himself to kill his ill-begotten half-human offspring.
"Now – that's just disgusting." Dean makes a face and Sam rolls his eyes. It's not the worst thing they've ever heard. "What do your legends say about how to get rid of it or drive it off?" Sam directs the discussion back to more useful ground. "Anything about its habitat or hunting pattern?"
"Those're topics for debate, too." Ronnie watches the brothers' interactions closely. Rumor has them being best of friends as well as siblings, but there's definitely something amiss between these two men. She continues to fill them in on the information she has gathered.
Most Goatmen live in rural areas on the outskirts of cities and towns, often in caves, always near waterways. While they do regularly kill humans, it is unclear whether they eat their victims. They often mutilate pets and livestock, but rarely eat them. They've been known to use animal heads as projectiles against people. Their most potent powers are their ability to cause irrational fear in humans and leap great distances.
"So, I set out livestock cameras, but something keeps knocking them down over near the park in North Lake Waco. I haven't had any luck otherwise. I was hoping we could stake out the area, now that I've got backup, and be ready to take care of it whether it's demonic or fairy or mortal. But I'm open to suggestions." Ronnie watches as the two hunters exchange a long look she's pretty sure contains an entire conversation. The quiet types, huh? She wonders if they are thinking about cutting her out of her own hunt and gets her confirmation quickly.
"Why don't you just let us take it from here?" Dean says, trying to soften the impact with a half-hearted flirtatious smirk.
Ronnie stares at them both not bothering to hide her annoyance; God knows she put up with plenty of macho shit in the military. "What kind of crap is that? You two too good to hunt with me? Or do you just want the womenfolk to stay in the kitchen? You know what, I'll get someone else. I wanted backup, not to be replaced on my own hunt."
The angry hunter starts to close up her programs with abrupt movements. "Now, wait a minute…" Dean grates out before being interrupted by his brother.
"Ronnie, we'd like to stay and work with you. If that's all right?"