Jennifer Haiden didn't have any secrets to steal, and Suzanne was eternally grateful for that rarity. But that didn't change the fact that Jennifer was supposed to be dead.

Suzanne had seen it when she'd brushed against her, she'd seen a wild man of darkness and shadow and the evil spirit that drove him. She'd watched him beat Jennifer to death. She'd watched her die. She watched as a disoriented and bleeding Klocke checked her throat for a pulse that wasn't there, watched as he slumped in defeat, tears in his eyes.

And then the scene changed, from the woods at night to a classroom that she recognized. But the players in this one were different than in her own memories. It made no difference. Again, she watched Jennifer die. And again, she saw that bronze statue of a detective cry.

And then she was back in Pizza Hut, sitting next to the dead woman. She jerked away with a hiss, and her chair started to tilt back. She was stunned, disoriented, which was why she wasn't fast enough to catch herself, and she went backwards with the chair. She hit the floor with a solid thump, but it didn't hurt.

Suzanne could feel the eyes on her, could feel the light energy in the air shift to something heavier, something that buzzed. Everyone was surprised and curious.

How shocking.

Jennifer looked at her with concern, and stood up. She offered her hand to Suzanne. "Hey, you okay?"

Suzanne had seen the pink scar on Jennifer's neck, trying to hide behind her hair, but now she saw it in a new light. She knew there was a lot of fear behind the origin of that scar, she could sense it when she looked at it. She knew it was only several months old, and one didn't need to be... whatever she was — to see it. It marred what once must've been a happy, innocent face.

Though Jennifer somehow still managed to smile like the sun.

But she was still. Supposed. To be. Dead.

Suzanne must've muttered that last part aloud, because Jennifer frowned. "What?"

She shook her head. How is this possible? She's not a ghost, I would be able to tell. But... How the hell is she alive right now? "You're supposed to be dead," she said, louder this time.

Jennifer blinked, shocked, and Suzanne felt the energy of the room shift accordingly. Save for Fred, who looked at her with worry, and Klocke, whose non-expression didn't change at all. Suzanne knew that he was curious though. She could feel it coming off him in waves. That was something she'd noticed right away. Klocke's emotions were stronger than others, just not in the physical sense. Suzanne didn't know what to call it, didn't know why she could sense him so clearly. For some reason, Klocke's presence was... stronger, than others, and she didn't even have to touch him.

She had some theories, but nothing conclusive.

For a second, she fully intended to ignore Jennifer's hand and stand on her own. It was a habit, and not a bad one, in her experience. But... She needed a clearer look at Jennifer's head for confirmation, and she needed to touch her to get it.

So Suzanne took the young detective's hand, met her hazel eyes, and dropped the walls that normally kept other people's thoughts out of her head. All the questions racing through Jennifer's mind suddenly poured into her own like water through an open sluice.

What does she mean I should be dead? Is she talking about the Messenger? Or maybe Melody? But how would she know? Does all this somehow relate to The Case? But how? She was the one who added "I know everything." What does that even mean? And why is she looking at me like—

Jennifer suddenly gasped, her eyes widening in sudden understanding. GET OUT!

And she jerked her hand free. Suzanne had never seen anyone do that. No one had ever sensed her presence in their mind, and to be cast out like that... It hurt.

It actually. Physically. Hurt.

She staggered back a step, her hand going to the blinding pain that now pervaded her skull. It dulled a moment later, but her head kept up a steady throb in time with the beat of her heart.

Suzanne hadn't realized she'd closed her eyes, but when she opened them, it was to see Jennifer Haiden — the one who had greeted everyone with a bright smile and a bounce in her step — scowling at her. Only then did Suzanne sense the viciously cold lack of tolerance for bull shit that emanated from the young woman. For some reason though, she wasn't surprised.

Everyone had a darker side.

Some were just better at ignoring it most of the time.

"Explain," Jennifer commanded. "Now."

Suzanne quickly regained her usual calm composure, though her heart was pounding, and she had dozens of her own questions to which she wanted answers. But after what she'd so blatantly blurted out, Jennifer deserved to know. And after ten years without telling another living soul...

Well, it was usually better not to be a people person. Suzanne saw more than enough of them when she was minding her own business.

"You sure you want to know?" Suzanne asked, quirking one corner of her mouth up in a cocky smile. It was fake, but no one else needed to know that.

"You just told me that I should be dead. Would you prefer I take that as a threat to my life and arrest you?"

Suzanne raised her brows at the iciness in Jennifer's tone. This was not the same young woman who had laughed with the rest of them just a minute ago. This was a detective.

This explained why she'd been so quickly promoted, if not her being alive.

"That won't be necessary, Detective," she said. She looked over Jennifer's shoulder at all the eyes watching them. They knew. They'd known for ten years. They were the first people she'd ever trusted with her secret. Suzanne met Jennifer's cold hazel eyes. They weren't smiling now. "I guess you could call me psychic."

{ { o } }

Klocke sucked in an involuntary breath, his initial reaction being, Impossible. There's no such thing.

Except he knew better. If there were ghosts, then there were likely other things. Suzanne's cocky smile — so much unlike her shy younger self — was strained, and Klocke got the impression that she was in pain. And what she'd said to Haiden...

You're supposed to be dead...

What did that mean? That Haiden shouldn't've survived the encounter with the Messenger? Or the one with Melody? Or did it mean that she wouldn't survive much longer as his partner? Klocke crushed that thought before it could lead to more just like it. Things had been going so well lately, she learned so fast. She had quickly picked up on his preferred method of silent communication, and he admitted he'd forgotten what it felt like to be so connected to another human being. Save for Ana, but that was on a more intimate scale.

He wasn't willing to let these things go.

He was going to keep his partner alive.

Whatever the cost.

Haiden looked at him over her shoulder. She raised her brows inquisitively. What do you think?

He tilted his head in the barest hint of a nod. Let's hear what she has to say.

Haiden nodded back, then turned and straightened Suzanne's chair. She returned to her own seat, beckoning Suzanne back to the table with a wave of the hand. "I'm all ears," she said.

Suzanne gave her a dry smile, as if something about what Haiden had said was amusing. "You sound like someone else I know," she said, though she didn't specify. She sat down in her now-upright seat. "Short or long version?" She asked.

"Long," Klocke said, the first thing he'd said all evening. It earned him a few surprised blinks. He ignored them.

Suzanne gave him an assessing look, her grey eyes curious. Klocke met her gaze without batting an eyelash. "Long it is," she said eventually, her lips quirking into that cocky smile.

It wasn't real.

She's changed a lot, he thought. They all have.

"I guess the best way to explain it," Suzanne began, "is to say I'm a kind of empath. Sort of. I can tell how you're all feeling right now, but I'm also something more than an empath. If I were to touch you, skin to skin, I could steal a memory."

"Wait a sec," Haiden interrupted. "Does that mean you stole one of my memories?"

Suzanne shook her head. "It doesn't work like that. It has to be a secret. Something deep, deep down. Something that you'd take to the grave. You don't have any secrets like that. That's incredibly rare," she added, giving Haiden a narrow-eyed look without actually turning her head towards her. It was similar to the look she'd given Klocke outside the restaurant.

Haiden shrugged. "I'm a happy person, that's not a crime."

"No, but you've only got so many reasons to be happy."

Haiden gave Suzanne a steady look, a 'don't push me' look. Klocke had never seen that one, and found that he was still nowhere near learning all of his partner's ins and outs. "They're good reasons," she said.

Suzanne mimicked Haiden's shrug. "Fine. But as I was saying, I can steal memories. Or secrets, rather. But that's not my specialty. My real talent is objects. When I touch something, I often get impressions and snippets of emotions and thoughts of the person that last touched it. I get an imprint of what was going through their mind at the time they touched it. It's not a connection to them, which sometimes people assume is the case. It's usually why I buy things brand new, they haven't been touched as much. And the more expensive, the more likely it is that fewer people have handled it. I like custom orders, if I can get my hands on them. It's expensive beyond all reason, but my job pays considerably well."

A tiny frown appeared on Haiden's face, then a slight smile. "So I'm guessing you never eat at McDonald's?"

Suzanne gave her a flat look. "No."

Haiden laughed, and Suzanne frowned, confused.

"I have a question for you," she said to Haiden.

"Shoot."

"Did a man try to kill you?"

The light in Haiden's hazel eyes vanished in an instant, and her smile froze. But she nodded.

"What about a ghost?"

Haiden blinked, and Klocke's eyes widened by a nearly microscopic margin. Of course, he thought. He intervened...

Norgaard himself had become a ghost. Klocke didn't know how or why, he didn't understand how that worked. It was Norgaard's presence, his actions, that had resulted in Haiden's life being spared. Melody's assault was the reason Haiden had thrown out all her T-shirts, choosing instead to only wear long-sleeves. Those would hide the mish-mash of healing scars that now ran up and down her arms, and across her legs and her back. With the simple, pale blue shirt she had on now, Klocke could only see a few of her new scars. One peeked out on the back of her right hand, but that was from the Messenger, as was the one that now marred one side of her face. Of the ones from Melody, he could see just one.

It was on the left side of her neck, reaching from under her ear, down the back of her neck, and along her left shoulder. He saw only a hint of it, as her hair covered most of it. It had grown some, now reaching several inches past her shoulders.

Klocke was snapped back to the present when Haiden responded to Suzanne's last question.

"You know about ghosts."

It was Fred that answered her. "We all know, it's something we'd all like to forget."

The others nodded, but it was obvious by her expression that Haiden was only more confused. She held up a finger, as if she wanted to point at one of them, but not knowing who to point to. "Okay. We're coming back to ghosts, but first I have another question." She turned to Suzanne. "What was it about that necklace you got that made you react so strongly? What did you get from it?" What impressions did you sense?

That cocky smile returned, though less false this time. Suzanne glanced briefly at Fred. "I 'got' nothing. Except one thing, but that's between Fred and me."

For a second, Haiden looked almost as if she was going to pout, but she just frowned. "Really? No juicy details? Did you guys used to date or something?"

Klocke noted that Fred's face darkened, and he raised one hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Suzanne let out a surprised huff of laughter. "It's personal."

Haiden squinted at her suspiciously, but let it go. She turned to the others at the table. "What about you guys? Got any secret superpowers?"

"Yes," Ed said, then pointed to Sydney. "I think she's secretly an alien."

Sydney cocked a brow at him, flipped him the bird, and said, "Obviously you've never looked in a mirror before. Or maybe you have, it would certainly explain all the broken glass."

Ed flashed her a grin. "And how would you know how much broken glass I have lying around my place."

Tom interjected. "A child could figure it out, Eddie. You're just so damned ugly, it's terrifying."

Ed cast a frown around the table. "You guys are mean," he pseudo-wined. "Fred," he complained. "Your guests are being mean."

Fred laughed at him. "I think you'll get over it."

"What if I don't?"

"Oh, get over yourself, Eddie," Sydney said. "You're already over it."

Ed pointed a finger at her, playing at being indignant. "That's not the point! What if I wasn't?"

Suzanne shrugged. "Well, that's your problem."

Klocke leaned back in his seat, watching as the conversation devolved back to the casual lightness it had had before Suzanne had touched Haiden.

It was then that the food finally arrived.

Three large pizzas and not quite enough breadsticks to go around. Fred ordered more, and as soon as the waitress left, Haiden turned to Suzanne.

"We got a little off topic," she said.

Suzanne nodded, cautiously brushing one finger against the crust of the pizza, as if afraid it might burn her. It was almost funny. She seemed to find whatever she sensed about the pizza acceptable, because she took two slices, dropping one on her plate and taking a bite out of the other. She'd chosen the one with mushrooms. Klocke had never cared for mushrooms.

He took three slices of the meat-lovers.

Haiden eyed Suzanne as she ate. Suzanne pointedly ignored her.

She apparently decided to drop it for the moment, and for a minute there was nothing but silence as everyone ate.

And as soon as everyone had finished at least two slices, Haiden spoke again. "You guys were there ten years ago. You were all there."

Klocke's head snapped up, he knew where she was going with this. The timeline was too obvious, she would've figured it out eventually. But... A guy could still hope.

"You say I'm supposed to be dead," she said to Suzanne. Suzanne didn't respond.

Haiden turned to Klocke. "You were surprised when you found out I was alive, and you've had some real bad luck with partners for the past ten years. Melody knew you. She killed Norgaard. All of you guys have encountered ghosts at least one other time. Everything leads back to what happened ten years ago. And it has something to do with that old school. Something happened."

None of them said anything.

Haiden looked at them all in turn, settling last on Klocke.

He swallowed involuntarily, knowing what she was going to ask.

"Tell me everything."