A minuscule mountain town and an old haunting. Always fun, right?

"1940. Woman murdered in winter wonderland." Sam slapped the ancient newspaper down on the table in front of his older brother.

"Does this town have a bar?" Dean raised an eyebrow, gauging Sam's reaction.

Sam pressed on, heedless of Dean's smartass comment.

"Victim was twenty three, been missing for a year and a half, found by a photographer. Jackass took some shots of his own before alerting the police."

Dean looked over the bundle of pictures from him, smirking and flipping through them.

"She looks hot."

"Yeah, that's nice, but listen- she was tacked up to this tree by a hunting knife, showing signs of rape and torture. Because they couldn't find a killer or a motive, they pinned it as suicide and left it at that."

"And?"

An exasperated sigh was his only answer. "So this chicks dies. Tragic. Where's the twist?"

"Other people have turned up the same way. Cut up and dumped somewhere in the general area. The latest case was less that a month ago- Young girl, missing for a year, suddenly turns up in the middle of nowhere. Fresh corpse and everything."

"Okay. I get. Ghostly lady kills people in the same way that she died- how are we supposed to solve this one? Play detective?"

Sam shrugs. "DUDE! This was over 60 years ago! What can we do?"

"Whatever we have to, Dean."

Dean rose to pack with a grumble.

--

"Wake me when we hit Main street." Dean slumped in shotgun for once, since Sam decided that Dean was too bored to pay attention to the road anymore.

"That was main street."

"WHAT?! That was like, ten buildings! This isn't a town, moron, this isn't even civilization! It's a fake movie set! A cheap, independent, wild west movie set."

"What can I tell you, Dean?" he let his voice slip into a honeyed, sarcastic tone. "Welcome home, sweetheart! How do you like it?"

"I hate you."

"I know you do."

They pulled into an inn, where Dean promptly demanded for his keys and surveyed the street for a bar. Sam could only assume that he found one when he returned with a smile plastered on his face.

"Lets dump our crap and get started."

"What changed your mind?"

"Dude, dollar drafts on Monday nights. Plus, the chick at the bar looks pretty easy."

"Great. I'm thrilled for you. Maybe I can head you off for about an hour so we can check out the spot where she died."

"Great. What a mood killer."