Klocke could only wonder how much they'd all changed in the ten years since he'd last seen them. So far as he knew, Ed was the only one who'd stayed in Corduroy. The others had left as soon as they finished high school.

Not that he could really blame them.

He could practically feel the curiosity coming off Haiden in waves, but she held off on her questions. He appreciated that.

He wondered what it would be like to see them again. They'd all be ten years older, not kids anymore. They'd all have moved on to better things.

He found himself thinking of all the different possibilities of who they could be now.

We'll just have to wait and see.

He arrived at the same time as Ed did, and he pulled in next to the same red Ford that the boy had been driving back then. He knew Ed had taken over his family's local business, and that's why he'd stayed in Corduroy. He was something of a celebrity in Corduroy, though most still thought of him as the Shultz boy, even though his parents had long since retired.

But Ed hadn't come alone. He had a passenger with him, a young woman with copper hair and grey eyes.

Having parked on Ed's right, Klocke was directly facing the copper haired woman when he got out of his truck.

He barely recognized her. The last time he'd seen her she'd had her hair dyed black and had straightened it every morning. And she also wore black, and nothing but black.

Suzanne Rath had since changed her look, though much of her style was the same. Still monochromatic, if not as modest. She now wore red. Bright blood red. It was quite a contrast to the winter world around them. That, and she had simple frameless rectangular glasses.

She eyed him from head to toe, a hint of a cocky smile tugging at her lips. "Detective Klocke," she said. "You'll understand, of course, if I don't give you a hug and shake your hand."

He didn't mind in the slightest, though he knew it was more for her personal comfort than his. Suzanne never had liked to touch people, though she'd always refused to tell him why. He could only guess. Haiden appeared in the space between Klocke's and Ed's trucks, and Ed popped into view shortly after.

Ed looked the same, still a rich playboy with a 'nary a care in the world' smile. Well, rich in comparison to most the population of Corduroy. In other, bigger places, Ed would be considered middle class. Klocke still saw the occasional scandalous article with the boy's picture next to it in the papers.

Sometimes Klocke wondered if Ed ever thought about the things he'd seen. Though for some reason, that 'nary a care' smile made him think of Haiden.

Who at the moment was giving him a curious look. She turned to Ed, who flashed her a charming grin. She turned to Suzanne, who simply eyed her.

Suzanne narrowed her eyes at him without turning her head away from Haiden, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. "I hope to whatever being you worship that she's your partner, and not the psychologist you're so infatuated with."

Haiden laughed, and Ed rolled his eyes. Klocke could only stare at Suzanne, feeling undeniably disturbed. She did say she knew everything... But how does she know?

He found it unlikely that Suzanne would be keeping tabs on him, though one could never tell for sure. Of all the kids from his first unofficial case, Suzanne he had known and understood the least. He s'posed a better question would be why. What did she have to gain from stalking him? Except, if she had been stalking him, then she wouldn't have to ask about who Haiden was. She would already know.

Which again raised the question: how did she know about Ana?

"Let's head inside," Haiden said, adjusting her knit cap on her head. "Then we can do introductions."

They all traded looks, but no one seemed to disagree. They headed for the warm interior of Pizza Hut.

{ { o } }

Haiden was suddenly glad that she was good with names and faces, otherwise her head just might be spinning. Okay, it was still spinning a bit, but not too much. Just a little.

Each person who had signed the back of Klocke's invitation was here. And she was dying to know how he knew them. Though, the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if it had something to do with what she'd taken to calling "The Case." The one that cost him his first partner and friend, Doug Norgaard.

It was strange to remember that — in a way — Haiden had met the man. If only for a brief, nearly-dead, moment.

Frederick Donahue turned out to be a charming hispanic-looking fellow. He just was stereotypical enough to ruin any interest Haiden might've had. Tall, dark, handsome, and gentlemanly. He was nicely dressed in a white button up and black slacks, his sleeves rolled up to just past his elbows. And he was a lawyer. Go figure. "Defender or prosecutor?" She'd asked him.

He'd blinked, taken aback by her abrupt question. "I'm just a public defender, but I'm working my way up to ADA."

Haiden considered his goals, and decided she liked him, but wouldn't want to date him. Which was fortunate, because she was pretty sure he didn't live in Corduroy anyway.

Ed Shultz she did know. Though she'd only ever seen him in the papers. He was a cute flirtatious fellow with shaggy blonde hair, green eyes, and teeth so white that they practically glowed. She recognized him instantly from his pictures, though she'd never really bothered to read the articles. She skimmed a bit, so she knew he was Corduroy's version of the rich playboy. He'd inherited his parents hardware store, and had — miraculously — not run it into the grave.

Sydney Cheslock was a plain-faced, homely black woman with long dark hair and large chocolate eyes. She had a warm smile, with a dimple in one cheek. The only real indicator that she'd done quite well for herself was the glittering earrings and matching necklace she wore. Haiden didn't know enough about clothes to tell if hers were really expensive, but she did know enough to know that they weren't second hand, and that they were brand new.

Tom Engleman looked like a man on the edge, and was not only used to being there, but comfortable there, with dark circles under his blue eyes, and a weary false smile on his face. Aside from that though, he'd obviously cleaned up nicely. He had no shadow of a beard, no stubble, and Haiden could smell freshly applied aftershave. His clothes weren't anything to write home about, but they were clean and without too many wrinkles. Though Haiden was sure that if his buzzed blonde hair was longer, she'd see signs that he'd been running his hands through it.

Suzanne Rath made no effort to hide that she was rich, and likely more than just rich in the Corduroy middle class way. Her blood red trench coat looked tailor made to fit her, and seemed crisp and new. Underneath she wore a bright red blouse and light grey khakis. Little red teardrop gems dangled from her ears, and her well-cared-for copper hair shone like a brand new penny. That, and her red heels looked like they cost more than the rent Haiden paid monthly for her little yellow house. Despite Suzanne's obvious wealth, however, she was dressed rather casually. It was obviously very casual, by her standards, but casual nonetheless.

It was strange, Haiden decided, sitting at a table with a bunch of people who all knew each other. She took the opportunity to try things Klocke's way, and just sit silently and listen to the conversation.

Fred — as he'd insisted she call him — sat at the head of the table. Or tables, actually. There were three square tables that had been pushed together in a rectangle to accommodate the number of people. And he looked both nervous and happy. "I'm glad everyone was able to make it," he said, a small smile on his face. "I hope you guys don't mind, but I got you all late Christmas presents."

Haiden blinked, surprised. The man really had gone all out. She didn't know what to make of it, it was... sweet. And strange. It did nothing for the awkward tension that pervaded the room. Everyone sat next to one another in uncomfortable silence, occasionally glancing at one another.

Haiden examined them all unabashedly, having long-since abandoned any care about what others thought of her. The expressions and body language were about the same, all the way around, except for Klocke, who never showed anything. Unless you knew where to look, and Haiden was learning. Slowly, but she was getting there.

Fred handed out the simply wrapped red and green packages, though he moved a bit awkwardly, like he wasn't sure he should really give them anything. Haiden was more surprised when he paused next to her and gave her a gift as well. "You didn't even know I was going to be here," she said.

He shrugged. "I figured Klocke might have a new partner or a friend he would want to bring along, and I didn't want anyone to be left out." Haiden sat directly across from Klocke, and they traded a look as Fred handed the next gift to the copper-haired Suzanne. Klocke shrugged, and Haiden smiled. She'd done some gift-giving of her own, and she'd proudly given Klocke a new tie for Christmas.

Unfortunately it had been slashed up that very same day by a maniac with a knife at an attempted mass murder at Walmart. Then the pieces had burned up in the small fire that had gotten started.

But that was last week.

As Fred returned to his seat, he realized that no one had torn into the wrapping paper of their gifts yet, and the nervous look on his face became a mild expression of not-quite-concealed mortification. "So maybe the Christmas presents were too much," he said. "But it's been so long, and I wanted something to remember the evening by—"

It was Sydney Cheslock who started laughing first. It was infectious, and — just like that — the awkward tension popped like a bubble, and everyone was laughing. Well, not quite everyone. Klocke merely leaned back in his seat, relaxed, his lips twitching at one corner. It was his equivalent of uproarious laughter. And Suzanne only chuckled next to Haiden, though at least her smile was genuinely happy.

Even Fred gave an embarrassed laugh, his face having darkened to an adorable beet red. Haiden was the first to recover enough to open her present. And here I thought Christmas was over...

She'd never been one to open gifts nicely, and she tore off the paper with little ceremony, revealing the gift that Fred had picked for the seventh guest.

It was a chest-sized cardboard box, but obviously there was something in it. That something turned out to be a round pillow that looked like a pizza. It was a pizza pillow. And it was soft. It was the sort of thing she'd expect to find lying around on Casey's couch.

Haiden grinned from ear to ear, resisting the urge to bury her face in the fuzzy pillow right there at the table. "Fred," she said to the Hispanic man, "you have excellent taste."

Everyone else got gifts of varying degrees. Suzanne got a necklace — which for some reason appeared to surprise her, and she gave Fred a shocked look, to which he responded with an acknowledging tip of the head. Ed got a book on philosophy — which was apparently some sort of inside joke, as there were a lot of dry looks and chuckles. Sydney got a thick, long-sleeved, turtleneck sweater, and that was also apparently very funny. Tom also got a book, but it was a cookbook; another inside joke that Haiden was outside of. Though she found that she didn't really mind all that much.

There was a great deal of chatter and idle talk, a great deal of laughter and old stories passed around. A lot of 'you remember when's and 'remember the time's. Haiden wasn't completely part of the chatter, offering only a brief comment here and there. Though Klocke hadn't said much either. Haiden wasn't surprised, though she did notice that there was a gleam in his eyes that she'd never seen before.

Only after a moment's consideration did she realize it was happiness. He was enjoying this, simply sitting, listening, and occasionally offering a twitch of the lips. It made Haiden feel light and joyful, and that was her favorite mood.

After they'd all settled on what to order (they ended up getting three large pizzas and three family-sized orders of breadsticks), and the waitress had left to tell the kitchen what to make, Haiden noticed the red and green package in front of Klocke. He still hadn't opened his Christmas present. Based on his reaction to the gift she'd given him on the twenty-fifth, this didn't surprise her.

"You going to open that?" She asked him, pointing to the nicely wrapped little box. And it was little, easily the size of Haiden's palm, if not just a bit bigger.

The rest of the table — or tables, but who kept track of little things like that? — fell silent. It seemed everyone wanted to know what it was.

They didn't get the chance to find out. At that moment, Suzanne reached for something in the middle of the table — perhaps it was the packets of parmesan in the salt and pepper tray — and her hand brushed against Haiden's.

And she jerked away with a hiss, like she'd been burned. She recoiled so far and so fast that she actually fell backwards in her chair. It would've been comical, had there been some obviously explicable reason behind it.

Everyone turned to look at Suzanne, startled, and Haiden most of all. Had she done something? What was it? She doubted very much that she'd accidentally hurt Suzanne, it had only been a little brush. Haiden did the only thing she could think to do: she stood up and offered Suzanne a hand up. "Hey, you okay?" She asked.

But Suzanne only stared at her as if she'd sprouted a second head and two matching sets of horns. She muttered something, but Haiden didn't catch it.

"What?"

Suzanne shook her head, shocked. "You're supposed to be dead."