"I'm sorry, who are you?" Amy asked, confused. So, Troy must have talked about his family if she asked who they were within the range of the Squire family tree.

"Me and my brother here:" Charlotte winced unnoticeably at Dean's improper grammar. His fault if he didn't care about the proper use of the English language. "We're his uncles. Uncle Dean and Sam? You wouldn't know about Charlie," Dean leaned in and whispered "new addition." He finished off his explanation with a wink. Dean was really pushing it now. Was he still pissed about Charlotte's espionage extraordinaire? The twat.

"Amy," Sam cleared his throat "Would you mind if we asked you a few questions about Troy?" Sam actually looked concerned, as if a family member of his actually just went missing, which was really true, but Sam didn't seem to consider John as his father. Charlotte nodded and said "Yeah, there's a coffee shop down the road, if you'd like." Charlotte indicated to Amy and her scene friend and they agreed.

Once they arrived at the café and got their seats, Amy's friend, Jennifer, slid down to the window seat closest to the entrance door with Amy sliding in next to her. Dean and Sam crammed in the other one, and since there was room on the row with the other girls, Charlotte slid in farthest from the window next to Amy with Dean in front of her, Sam in front of Jennifer. "So, what do you think happened?" Charlotte asked cautiously as she knew how badly those questions might be taken, turning as she spoke to the teenager next to her. In the meantime, Dean ordered coffees all around. It really didn't matter if they drank it or not, it wasn't technically their money they were wasting.

Amy sighed and looked to Charlie "Honestly? I really don't know. The last I personally heard from Troy he was on the phone, driving home after a party last night on Halloween." She reminded them of the date. Charlotte shared a look with Sam. If whatever it was that took Troy had actually taken him and not morphed into him, he was taken last night.

Then Sam asked, "Did he sound strange? Not like himself?"

Amy looked perturbed at the question "What? Like he was drunk?"

"Generically strange. Like, his tone, anything." Sam clarified; Jennifer smirked at how her friend pretended to be disturbed by the mention of alcohol abuse.

Amy shook her head "No, he just sounded a bit tired. Understandable, really." Amy shrugged nonchalantly.

"Why's that?" Dean asked, already 'paying' for the coffees no one had noticed had arrived. They didn't seem of good quality either.

"Well, it was late." Amy replied as if it was obvious.

"Around what time would you say?" Sam asked, intrigued. Maybe it was a cursed omen that occurred at a specific time on a specific date.

"I don't know, around half after midnight?" Amy seemed to guess to the best of her ability.

"Do you think he was taken by," Charlotte paused slightly in thought "maybe a hitchhiker?" Charlotte went through the options. Maybe a ghoul had picked him off for a late night snack.

"I really don't know." Amy sighed in distress, taking her spoon and nervously twirling it in her coffee. Jennifer huffed as if it seemed obvious what the real solution was. The hunters shared a quick gaze. Could it be that Jennifer was a witch? She had the stereotypical look to be involving herself in witchcraft.

"What?" Dean asked curiously.

"Well, there's this kind of legend around here." Jennifer began in her semi-raspy voice. The trio of hunters looked intrigued and leaned in. Typically speaking, an urban community legend was most likely the cause of any misfortune in the town. Unless it was complete bullshit. Like Sasquatch. Seeing as the three were intrigued, Jennifer continued, "There's this legend that the ghost of this woman was killed on the bridge."

"The same bridge Troy's car was found?" Dean asked impatiently.

Jennifer nodded and continued, "They say her ghost still haunts Centennial road." She spoke nonchalantly as she actually dared to take a sip out of the god-awful coffee, brave soul. Jennifer didn't seem to mind or she didn't want to be rude since 'Uncle Dean' had paid their coffees. Charlotte seemed intrigued. So this legend wasn't complete BS after all. A spirit is a definite possibility. Dean sighed and closed off their meeting "Well, ladies, thank you very much. We hope Troy comes back as soon as possible." Dean nodded as he got up, always the gentleman cowboy. Charlotte slid off the booth's bench and Sam joined her as they walked out and regrouped.

"So where to next?" Dean asked, clearly becoming codependent on his little brother and Princess Bubbles.

"Library's a good place to start." Charlotte shrugged, seeing as Sam didn't bother bringing his laptop with him and there wasn't Wi-Fi anywhere else she could think of at the moment. Sam nodded and they headed there.

Once they got to the library, Dean took up the computer, beating Sam in a speed-walk match. Charlotte sighed and rolled her eyes, taking up the bookshelves for any source of either entertainment or actual work, considering Dean was hording the only computer there. Charlotte looked on at the scene as Dean typed in the most inaccurate words in the search bar on the town website, coming back each time with no results whatsoever. She heard Sam mutter as he pushed Dean away in his wheeled office chair. "What if it wasn't murder…?" Sam typed in suicide instead of murder and a result popped up. Seeing it so, Charlotte walked over, her hands tracing a table with a reflective surface, cold to the touch, it almost seemed to burn her and she quickly pulled her fingers away. She pulled up a wooden chair behind the brothers and asked, "What did you get?"

"Constance Welsh." Sam spoke quietly, reading over. "Apparently, her two kids were in the bathtub, she left for a minute and they were drowned by then. She then, in all her grief, jumped off the bridge." Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"You think she might have murdered the kids and then killed herself?" She asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the few frequenting the library.

Sam shrugged and said, "I don't know, maybe?"

Charlotte replied with a shrug and stood up. "Well, we could always go now to the bridge, check for EMF." She suggested as Dean and Sam stood up not before closing the window on the computer.

When they reached the bridge, the sun had set. They parked the Impala by the end of the bridge, facing the bridge. Charlotte had already planted her revenge in the cassette mouth of the stereo system. "So, this is where Constance swan dived." Dean nodded, walking about the place, looking off one end of the bridge. Sam turned his head just in time to see the ghost, or echo of Constance Welch, looking into Sam, he felt invaded and targeted. Constance spread her arms out, Sam yelled out "Wait! Stop!" but the white figure had already dived down to the bottom. The three ran for the place where she jumped, but saw no one. Typical ghost traces. All at once, they hear the rev of the engine of the Impala and the sudden sound of Charlotte's favorite song. Dean tilted his head to the side as the car started playing music up loud and turned itself on "The Bangles?" He asked, confused.

"You're concerned about that?" Charlotte asked, a small smile contradicting her wide, panicked eyes. Damn, 'Walk Like An Egyptian' was the best tune to get down on. But, at the moment, they had a problem. As the song played out, the car charged for them. The two boys too tall or bulky to be as lithe as Charlotte jumped off the edge of the bridge. Sam held on, Dean lost his grip and fell in the shallow brook. Charlotte, however, being stealthy and lithe, ran in light step towards the car, jumping on to the hood and running right over it, not leaving a dent. When she turned around to look back at the car, something strange occurred to her: She saw Constance Welch stopping the car, taking the cassette out of the cassette player, looking back, and winking at Charlotte as she left her mixed tape there. Then she went through the door and under the bridge. By then, Sam was watching Charlotte in her petrified state. "Did you see that?" Charlotte asked with wide grey eyes, her wild blonde curls even more of mess.

"See what?" He asked, oblivious.

"She-She was in the car." Charlotte spoke, unbelieving that he didn't see it. "And then she went right under the bridge. Please tell me you saw that!" She yelled at him. Sam had looked between the car and Charlotte just when Constance was in the car and he hadn't seen anything. Charlotte turned on Sam, eyes wide and pleading, "Sam, please, tell me you saw that." She begged, so close to him in proximity.

Sam shook his head, confused "Sorry, no."

Later, Dean had managed to crawl out sopping with mud, head to toe, out of the river without anything broken except, just possibly, his integrity. When they got back to the baby, Dean had a hard time getting in, since he didn't want to "Dirty his baby."

To which Charlotte rolled her eyes, a feeling of subtle unease and suspicion after what happened minutes ago, but just as sassy as she had always spoken, told Dean uselessly "Dean, honestly, she isn't going to mind."

Dean then murmured "It's all right, baby, she doesn't know you like I do." to the car. Charlotte ended up having to push Dean in, to which he bustled about before settling in, making the shotgun seat uninhabitable with river muck. Once Charlotte closed to door and saw what happened when she pushed Dean in, she turned her head, sharing a look with Sam "You want shotgun?" She asked with a bitten back smile by her bottom lip and a slight upheaval of her shoulders. Sam smiled and shook his head. His life for the past two years had really been lacking of Charlie's humor both the boys were already so codependent upon to get through their cynical lives. Instead, Sam opened the door behind the driver's seat and held it open for Charlotte, pretending mockingly to be a gentleman, making an exaggerated wave of his hand to show Charlotte in, where Charlie then curtsied superfluously. Sam chuckled and then said "Come on, get in before I push you in." teasingly. Charlotte smiled and pecked his cheek amicably, patting his other cheek with her hand "Thank you, kind sir." She teased him as she slid in. Sam felt the spot she kissed him when he had closed her door shut. Like a cold shoot of electricity had shot through him. He was used to getting pecked on the cheek, but this time she kissed him on the cheek. In his mind, that was two different things entirely. But Charlie seemed to have shrugged it off by the time he slid in next to her. Sam had managed to calm himself by that time as well. His blush had died down and he was cool calm, and collected. In any case, he had Jess waiting back home for him. Home? It didn't really feel like home. All those times he's run away, it just felt like a temporary living situation, which made him think, was Jessica a temporary living partner? Since he could remember, everything but Charlotte and Dean were temporary to him. He shook the thoughts off and focused on the case. Why was Constance Welch killing (as seemed unanimously agreed that what happened was not a simple disappearance)?

"Did dad give you a room number for the motel he was staying at?" Charlotte asked as Dean drove, occasionally wiping the silt from his eyes.

"Yeah, room 12A." he replied with a sigh, trying to drive as straight as he could. That may be the best example of Dean's protectiveness and stubbornness with his car. The car was Dean's baby, and both Sam and Charlotte were sure that even if Dean were to die one day, his ghost would come back before either of them steals a glance at the dashboard. Sam shifted in his seat, Charlotte giving him a questioning glance.

"It's a bit cold in here, isn't it?" Sam replied.

Charlotte nodded with a shrug and said, "Yeah, I guess it kind of is." Not feeling much of a cold draft anywhere, but Sam seemed to be ice-cold. Dean cleared his throat and turned on the heater as they drove, the sun peaking from its hideout from the other end of the world.

"Morning, boys." Charlotte sighed, seeing as when they got to the motel, it was 7AM. They walked out of the car and looked at the door of room 12A. "Sam, would you do the honors?" Charlotte asked, handing him a lock pick, never taking her eyes off the door. Sam took the lock pick and worked his rusty magic. Charlotte, in the meanwhile, had a compromising view of Sam and definitely took the opportunity. She made a face to herself as if to say 'Not bad.' When he opened the door, though she wasn't thinking about his lock picking skills, no sir.

Dean walked in first and nodded to both of them, saying, "I'll go take a shower." With an embarrassed-looking smile, though the other two knew well he wasn't embarrassed. Dean just wanted to seem normal. When Dean had gone and Sam fully stood up to his height, Charlotte told him "Nice." With a smirk coming on as she nonchalantly looked around the room.

"Thanks." Sam replied with a goofy smile, appreciating the fact that Charlotte appreciated the smallest of his skills.

"I wasn't talking about that." Charlotte shook her head as she walked in. Sam stood there for a bit, blinking as he watched Charlotte go in, processing what she just said.

"Oh." Sam spoke with a red pigment filling his cheeks in, the ones on his face, I mean. He walked a bit more awkwardly around now. Charlotte giggled to herself and rolled her eyes.

The walls of the room were scaled with pictures of locals that had gone missing, Troy Squire included. As Charlotte read through the missing papers, she found something in common out of the men that shouldn't be related in any way, shape, or form. "Check this out," She told Sam as they could faintly hear Dean singing 'Walk Like An Egyptian' in the shower, probably dancing along with it because they heard slips and falls ever so often. "All of the men's cars were found on that one bridge near Centennial Road." She told Sam and then asked "But why? What did you get anyway?"

Sam cleared his throat, his eyes having been on a befuddled looking Charlotte who was considered the kitten version of Charlotte, her nose slightly scrunched along with the space in the middle of her eyebrows, yet her eyes widening as she looked for any sign of an idea. "I think he was on to something." Sam said with a sigh as he went over to his side of one wall, jutting off a piece. "Woman In White sound familiar to you?" He asked as he showed her the paper John had noted down.

Charlotte nodded, murmuring that a Woman in White, also known as a Weeping Woman, was the ghost of a woman who killed herself when her husband or boyfriend had cheated on her. As Charlotte muttered, she finally tore her eyes away from the victim's missing sheets and her eyes widening "Oh shit." She spoke softly; looking from Sam to the paper he showed her "You think so?" She asked Sam, a small smile twitching the edges of her lips.

"One way to know for sure." Sam said with a smile. They had to interview Candace Welch's husband.

"I'm in." Charlie smiled.

"So am I." Sam replied, and Dean came, clothes still muddy but it was obvious he tried to rinse them.

He looked between the two and sighed, "How many times does a man have to repeat himself? No chick flick moments."

Sam shook his head, looking down with an enamored smile about Charlotte "Jerk." He told Dean off.

"Bitch." Dean replied with a smile. Things were, seemingly, back to their version of normal at last.