'This is where Beny Silvester lived?'
Dean parked the Impala in front of an old wooden cabin that was slowly falling apart, located at the outskirts of town. The garden had been forgotten and was overgrown with weeds, the gate hanging in its rusty hinges. Most of the windows were covered with wooden planks on the places where the glass had been broken, the porch was cluttered with broken furniture and dead plants in pots. 'We are sure this guy died last week, not ten years ago?'
While checking his gun that was secured in the waistline of his pants, Dean glanced sideways to Evelyn sitting next to him. She loaded and fastened her gun in the holster around her thigh, something Dean couldn't help but find extremely sexy. Evelyn looked up, noticing him staring and raised her eyebrows. Dean, caught off guard, quickly looked away and opened the car door. 'Ready?'
Evelyn nodded and followed him onto the path to the old house, hand on the pocket of her blazer that carried a silver knife. It didn't take Dean long to pick the lock, while Evelyn made sure no noisy neighbors were watching. 'So, according to his file, Mr. Silvester lived alone, wasn't in any registered relationship and had quite the record for disturbances with drunken behavior, even got a suspended license due to driving under influence.'
Dean nodded and grinned triumphantly when he managed to unlock the door, pushing it open with his shoulder, gun at the ready. As soon as he crossed the doorstep, the sound of empty bottles rolling over the ground echoed through the hallway. 'Well he did love his liquor indeed.'
Dean kicked against one of the many whiskey and vodka bottles scattered around on the floor. Evelyn walked past him, into the dusty and cluttered living room. 'This guy must have been very lonely. No one with a happy life consumes this much alcohol.'
She looked around with a hint of sadness on her face but composed herself as soon as she felt Dean looking at her. 'No EMF reading.' She held up the lifeless monitor of the small device. 'Let's see if we can find anything else, maybe hex bags or traces of sulfur.'
Dean nodded and started opening drawers and cupboards, pretending he had not seen the moment of vulnerability.
'Hello?'
Evelyn and Dean shot up simultaneously when a female voice sounded from the direction of the hallway. Evelyn raised her eyebrows in question, removing her gun from the holster in silence. Dean followed her example, the soft clicking sound echoing through the room when the gun got loaded. He nodded towards the living room door that was closest to Evelyn, indicating he would be right behind her. Cautiously entering the hallway, gun in her hand hidden behind her skirt, FBI badge in the other, Evelyn encountered a woman standing on the threshold of the porch. Short, perfectly trimmed, blond hair framed a round, friendly face with eyes that shot around the room curiously as if they knew already what was going on. With the knitted cardigan, perfectly manicured nails and the apron with rouches, she fitted the housewife, small-town, my-front-lawn-is-just-as-perfect-or-even-better-than-yours (just like my entire life) picture perfectly. Appearing professional and calm, Evelyn flashed her FBI badge. 'Goodmorning ma'am. FBI. I am agent Carter, this is my partner agent Johnson.' Evelyn signaled towards Dean who appeared in the doorway.
The big smile on her face dropped quickly and made place for worry. 'FBI? But I thought Bernie's death was an accident.' Her voice shot up two octaves. 'Who would want to kill him? I mean, yes, he could be a mean drunk but he didn't have any enemies. Never hurt anyone either. Some people would complain about his behavior and the fact that he never took good care of his house or garden, but he was not a bad man.' She started to ramble nervously, her eyes now darting through the hallway.
'Ma'am we are just doing some routine searches to be sure there is nothing going on in relation to the death of Mr. Silvester.' Evelyn gave her a polite smile while wishing she would stick her nose in someone else's business.
But not entirely convinced, the noisy woman continued to ramble on. 'Oh I understand. It is just that you don't see FBI in a small town like these very often. And we have such a good quiet neighborhood. Never any troubles. I just never imagined anything like this to happen. It is always so safe here...'
Dean stepped forward. 'There is nothing to worry about yet, madam…?'
'Cornwell. But you can call me Christy.' Her nervous behavior changed as soon as she spotted Dean. Batting her eyelashes and flaunting an almost flirtatious smile, she shuffled closer towards him. Evelyn gave him an amused look now that she was standing behind Christy. Struggling to remain professional, Dean reassured Christy again the FBI had everything under control. 'Oh, of course, I am convinced the FBI is very capable of doing a fine job.' She inched a bit closer to Dean, who started to look uncomfortable. 'But if you need any help, I know everyone and everything around here, since I am head of the town community among others, just in case, here is my card.' She pressed a pink card with golden letters into Dean's hand, holding on for longer than was necessary. Evelyn, although enjoying Deans uncomfortable position, saved him by guiding Christy through the door onto the porch. 'Thank you, Mrs. Cornwell, but this is a crime scene and we need to continue our investigation. We will give you a call if we need any more information.'
She gave Evelyn a not so friendly look, smiled at Dean, and finally left, muttering the words. 'Why would he never take care of his garden… look at it….'.
Evelyn turned around and gave Dean an amused smile. 'Not hitting that? And I thought you were a ladies men?'
'Shut up...' Dean muttered before turning around and continuing the investigation.

The houses from the other victims did not show anything unusual either, so Dean and Evelyn found themselves back to researching and reading again. Sam joined them two hours later in the library, the look on his face not promising anything new. 'They just seem to be freak accidents, no one saw anything abnormal or unusual like cold spots or black smoke. Couldn't find any hex bags either.'
'Nothing here either...' Dean had lost all interest in the book about local folklore in front of him, his attention now focused on the young, blond librarian at the desk.
Evelyn dropped a stack of books on the table with a sigh. 'I looked into the history of this place, but couldn't find anything that might indicate ghost possession or haunting. Unless you think the men that died in the bathroom stall of the local strip club from an overdose of viagra last year would become an angry spirit.' Dean raised his eyebrows with a smirk. 'Decided to look more generally into the lore, see what else could be behind this...'
'You want to join me for some lunch and a coffee looks like you could use it. Dean here seems busy enough…' Sam offered Evelyn a polite smile, knowing his brother could get onto your nerves very easily.
'That would be really nice, thank you.'
Sam wasn't sure if Dean had noticed, but Emma's mood had very rapidly changed in comparison to last night - or the little of what he had noticed of her. The big mouth, swearing and flirting had made place for coldness and professionalism. She was extremely closed off and quiet, making Sam realize how little he actually knew about the hunter. He didn't remember Bobby ever mentioning her, and since Dean only seemed interested in her outside - he had been going after girls like pie these last few months - he wanted to get to know her a little bit better to at least have an idea of who his partner was during this hunt.
'I won't go around asking you all sorts of questions since Dean has probably been doing that all morning.' Sam said as he opened the door for her.
Evelyn laughed thankfully. 'Yeah, I won't be bothering you to open up either, Sam. A hunter's past is never pretty.'
'And besides, you probably know quite a lot about me.' Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking towards the town center.
Evelyn quickly caught up, her high heels clicking on the pavement. 'I've heard stories, but I am in no place to judge. Some hunters gossip more than my grandma. I just know what Bobby told me, you two have experience and are trustworthy.' A small smile crept around the corner of her mouth. 'And I may or may not have heard a certain story about a trickster…'
'Of course, Bobby likes to tell that story, Dean and I were fighting like little children….' Sam shook his head in disbelief. 'So, ehm what would you like for -'
He got interrupted when Evelyn her phone started ringing. She gave the caller ID one look, smiled apologetically to Sam and stepped away.
'Hello?'
Sam was just about to give her some privacy and opened the door to the diner when Evelyn raised her voice.
'I told you not to call me!?... Why do you think I am not there?... Like I am going to tell you… I thought I was clear when I said I never wanted to see you again….No….. He is still there?... FORGIVE HIM?... Fuck off and get lost.'
And with those words he angrily clicked away the call and ran a hand through her hair, a sigh escaping her lips. She only now seemed to notice Sam, who was still standing next to the diner entrance. 'Sorry, just something I had to deal with.' The look of sadness and anger quickly disappeared off her face, and she pushed open the door, ignoring Sam's stare. He quietly followed her inside, not mentioning the phone call again.
Over lunch she seemed to calm down a bit more as Sam started to talk about lore, books and eventually literature, an interest Evelyn seemed to share. As she discussed some of her favorite authors, Sam caught a glimpse of how she must be when not on a case, when she was herself without all the monsters and hunting. She was more relaxed, had the occasional smile around her lips and her eyes were calmer, not constantly darting through the room. 'So yeah, I try to visit different second-hand bookstores whenever I have the time after a hunt. It is amazing what you can find when you know where to look.'
Sam nodded. 'I should take more time to read, it just seems to be something I never do nowadays. I mean, I read lore and newspapers, but that's it...'
'You can borrow a book of mine, I currently have three with me and my bag is actually too full, so I don't mind.'
'That would be nice, thanks!' Sam smiled and shook his head in disbelief. 'Never thought I would be borrowing non-lore books from a hunter…'
Evelyn looked at him with a twinkle in her eyes. 'You just haven't met the right hunters yet. You never heard of the hunters book club? We meet once a month, either in a haunted house or on a crossroad. A bit of multitasking is always good.'
Sam laughed before taking another bite of his salad. 'Where can I sign up?'
Reaching out for the basket with fries, the smile on Evelyn's face froze for a second. Sam turned around to see Dean walking into the diner. Hunger probably got the better of him - or he had been rudely rejected. He sat down next to Evelyn, his eyes scanning her body before settling on the menu in front of him.
Evelyn sighed and shook her head in disbelief. 'You always do that?'
Dean looked up, confused.'What?'
'Checking out girls wherever you go.'
'Not all the time...'
Evelyn raised her eyebrows. 'Really? You just did, you did before in the morgue, and in the diner. And yesterday night. All the time. And not just me, the librarian as well, and the waitress this morning.'
Dean looked at her speechless, a sly grin growing on his face. 'Don't sugarcoat it.'
Evelyn leaned backward and took a sip of her soda. 'What do you think will happen? They will just throw themselves at you? Because you think girls like to be dressed out by men in their minds? Like to be stared at constantly like they are objects for sale? Like it doesn't make them uncomfortable?'
Dean huffed under his breath, clearly lost for words.
'Just think about that next time you stare at my ass.'
Sam looked at his salad, trying to hide a big grin. Dean scratched at his head, not sure what to say. Damn, she was awesome.