(So sorry for the long delay - I fell victim to the flu, which turned into a bout of pneumonia, and have been working a lot to make up for lost time. I am in massive Haven withdrawal, however, so I'm eager to keep writing to get my 'fix'! There will not be such a delay with the next chapter, I promise! As always, all feedback is very much welcomed and encouraged!)

Haven hadn't changed much in the fourteen years since I'd been gone. Some of the stores I remembered were gone, new ones in their place. Still no Starbucks, I noted with disappointment, although I at least had the conscience to feel ashamed of my disappointment. I'd never been a coffee drinker, but after a semester spent in India in college, I became quickly addicted to glasses of the sweet, spicy tea offered by street vendors.

I'd learned to make my own when I got back from my semester in Mumbai, and was rarely without my massive thermos of chai, but once the girls came along, I found myself at the Starbucks drive-through much more than I cared to admit. On the drive from Atlanta to Haven, we stopped at 15 different Starbucks so that I could grab an iced grande non-fat vanilla chai latte. I could justify it by pretending I'd really stopped for the organic milk boxes for Amelia. I could have bought them at a supermarket and kept them in a cooler for a quarter of the Starbucks price, but I wasn't fooling anyone, especially not the baristas, who smiled their smug, knowing smiles. I cursed them under my breath every time they handed me my cup full of liquid crack.

There are worse things to be than a Starbucks addict, I guess. For instance, a chai from Starbucks couldn't kill someone with its thoughts.

I also saw new businesses in Haven and old family businesses, names I recognized, new names. I saw old friends that I'd grown up with, although we'd never kept in touch once we all went to college.

Everything I saw, however, I saw from the safety of the Herald's second floor, the apartment that my dad and Uncle Dave had hastily cleaned and decorated. They'd even filled the rooms with furniture, some from antique stores around town, some I recognized from growing up, some was new. I wasn't ready to face Haven yet, although Dad and Uncle Dave had 'aired out the kids', one of Dave's goofy sayings, taking them on walks through less-populated areas of Haven and to the park to let Amelia play on the equipment.

They gave me space, neither Dad nor Uncle Dave pushing me to talk to them or get out into the town to see old friends. When I was alone, I thought about Jason, thought about our life together, how easy it had been to fall in love with him in college. And even more surprisingly, how easy it had been to be in love with him, even once that initial glow had faded. We'd be in a crowd of people, at a concert or a party, he'd lace his fingers in mine...a gesture that was so simple, yet made me feel like we were the only two people there. Seeing him reading to Amelia, his head tilted against hers, and Amelia gazing at him with complete adoration made my knees weak. I missed that so much already.

The apartment had two bedrooms, Amelia slept in one and I kept Annabelle in the master bedroom with me since she was still up once or twice a night to nurse. The bedroom had been decorated in a bright cheerful yellow and white, with a beautiful, plush duvet. It was white with small bunches of delicate daises scattered on it, and large, sweeping black lines as leaves. The antique white furniture I recognized from our guest room growing up – it had been my mother's – and the yellow curtains and white and yellow striped throw rug were new. Amelia's bedroom was a princess' dream, enough pink to make Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty puke their guts out, although she was enchanted by it. Dad and Uncle Dave obviously had a direct connection to the 'what-makes-three-year-old-girls-happy' hotline.

The living room, with the kitchen nestled in one corner, was a mish-mosh of furniture I grew up with, along with various pieces that looked as if Dad and Uncle Dave had picked them up for free at the local antique shops. Nothing matched, but it reminded me of home, where my dad raised me, comfortable and familiar. Exactly what I needed.

I'd spent part of the morning unpacking. Dad and Dave had taken Amelia to a park near the edge of Haven, and Annabelle was napping in her bassinet. I knew I'd eventually have to have our things moved up from storage, but we had everything we needed at the moment. Except my thermos of chai. I'd have to ask my dad to pick up what I needed to make it. In the meantime, I was pretty sure that there was a stash of tea bags in the back of the tiny office kitchen. Hopefully, one of the tea bags was decaf since Annie would be waking and wanting to nurse soon.

Grabbing the baby monitor, I opened the apartment door and pulled it shut behind me as quietly as I could, then headed down the back stairs to the Herald office. As I headed into the back towards the kitchen, I glanced out to the deserted office and saw a shadow. I stopped dead in my tracks. I knew Dad and Dave weren't back yet since I'd hear Amelia before I saw her. The shadow moved across the room, and I looked around for anything that might work as a weapon. Finding nothing in reach, I gripped the baby monitor tightly and began to tiptoe towards the shadow, lifting the monitor over my head.

As I started to bring it down on the shadow's head, an arm reached out and grabbed my wrist, turning me backwards so that I couldn't see who belonged to the shadow. I didn't scream, desperately trying to remember my self-defense moves from a few dorm meetings in college that usually ended in marathon gossip sessions.

"I knew I should have paid more attention when they taught us how to break someone's nose." I muttered, sinking my teeth into my tormentor's hand.

"OW!" He (I could tell from his voice that he was a he) yanked his hand away, shaking it. "What the hell? Didn't they teach you NO BITE! in nursery school?"

That voice. It wasn't exactly the same, but I still recognized it fourteen years later. A voice that was nearly impossible to forget. I whirled around, crossing my arms. "Duke Crocker! You son of a bitch! Don't you knock?"

"Well, well, well. The prodigal daughter has finally returned." Duke leaned against the doorway, still rubbing the teeth marks on his hand. "Daphne Teagues. It's about damn time you came back to Haven."

"Daphne Porter now." I corrected him, amazed at how quickly his demeanor changed from pissed off to smooth talker. Same old Duke. "I got married."

"Oh, yeah, I remember your dad showing off your wedding pictures." He grinned at me, but the smile left his face almost immediately. "I'm sorry. Sorry about your husband, I mean. Vince told me."

"Thanks." I murmured, not wanting to say more in case the tears decided to make an appearance, as they often did. "I never thought I'd say this, but it's good to be home."

"Haven has that effect on people." He glanced back into the Herald office. "Where are Vince and Dave?"

"Probably spoiling my oldest daughter rotten and rotting her teeth with ice cream, too." I replied, smiling wryly.

"Right. You've got kids. Two girls?" I nodded. "Little Daphne, a mom. Last time I saw you, I don't think you even filled out the top of your homecoming dress and now…" I saw his eyes sweep down my body quickly.

I stared at him in amused disbelief. "Really, Duke? Are you seriously hitting on me?" I couldn't stop myself from smiling at the absurdity. "You do realize that I've only been a widow for three months?"

He at least had the sense to look embarrassed. "Hell. Sorry. It's a reflex."

"It's okay. Nice to see that some things in Haven never change." I set the baby monitor down. "Aside from the usual, I mean."

"Is that why you're back?" Duke watched my reaction intently. "Did your…you know…is it back?"

"I don't want to talk about it." I couldn't keep the anger out of my voice. "I've moved back to Haven, that's all that anyone needs to know."

Before Duke could reply, a wail came over the baby monitor. "She takes after Vince." Duke grinned.

"Come on." I grabbed the monitor and started up the steps to my apartment. "I'll get her up and you can tell me all about the hell you've raised for the last fourteen years. And no leaving out any jail time."

I opened the door to the bedroom, not realizing that Duke had followed me. Annie had rolled to her back, her face tear-stained, watching me pitifully as I approached her bassinet. Her cries quieted as I lifted her into my arms and she saw Duke standing in the doorway, her dark blue eyes fixated on him. "Oh, no, you don't, young lady. Mr. Crocker is much too old for you." I kissed the dark fuzz on the top of her head. "Are you hungry? Let's get you fed before your sister gets back, okay?"

I headed back out into the living room, nestling in the armchair with Annie. Throwing a small blanket over my shoulder, I settled Annie down to nurse and motioned to the couch for Duke. "So, tell me everything."

"Everything? Do you want me to start with my daily routine or with every job I've held since you left town?" He rolled his eyes at me, and I resisted the urge to swear at him.

"You are still a gigantic tool, Duke Crocker."

"You asked." He grinned. "Seriously, everything would bore the hell out of you. It bores the hell out of me."

"Cut to the essentials." I smiled in spite of myself. It felt good to be here with Duke, to have the comfort of an easy conversation with a familiar old friend. "Wife and kids? If there are little Duke Crockers running around out there, I should keep my daughters away from them. You broke a lot of hearts when we were kids."

"I had a wife, but she's gone. I lost her." Duke shrugged, helplessly, and I realized what he meant.

"Oh, God, Duke, I'm so sorry." My free hand flew to my mouth. "I didn't know."

"It's okay. We'd been separated, but had just gotten back together." He replied, twisting his hands in his lap.

"How long has it been?"

"About a year and a half ago. It was here, in Haven." Duke shook his head. "Part of the…them."

Annie gave a small wail, and I shifted her quickly to my other side. "I'm sorry. She hasn't learned the art of good timing yet."

"She's adorable." Duke smiled. "How old is she?"

"Five months. Amelia, my oldest, just turned three."

"I have a daughter. Jean. She's just about Amelia's age."

"So you do have kids. We should get our girls together for a play date." I suggested, casually. "Amelia would love to have a friend."

"She isn't here." Duke replied, and I had a mental vision of my foot in my mouth. "She lives with her adoptive family, away from here. I can't be around her."

"The Troubles again?" The word had to be spoken out loud. I realized that now. It was impossible to come back – home – to Haven and not talk about the Troubles with someone like Duke. We'd both been kids when the Troubles had hit before and we'd both grown up dealing with the aftershocks of the Troubles. If anyone understood, Duke would.

"Yeah." He nodded. "It's best for her, though. Some things are best dealt with away from Haven. Others…it's best to be here."

My voice caught in my throat and I didn't trust myself to speak, tears forming in my eyes. Even though I didn't want to admit it, he was right. He reached out and gripped my hand, and I knew he understood the one part of me that I could never open up to Jason. After so many years of keeping that part of me hidden, keeping it buried, it felt right to know that I could be honest about it with at least one person.

As I took a deep breath, the one question I needed to know began to form on my lips and I knew I had to ask. "Duke. She's here, isn't she?"

He nodded. "Her name's Audrey."

"Lucy." I shook my head. "Her name was Lucy. She was Lucy when we were kids, she was Lucy when the Troubles were here before. Lucy killed my mother."

"She didn't kill your mother, Daph. I know it's easy to blame it on her, but your mother died because of the Troubles." Duke said, and I swear he'd taken that speech verbatim from my dad.

"You're spouting the party line, too, I guess." I glared at him. "Why is everyone so protective of her? For God's sake, people are dead because of her, Duke!"

"And even more people are still alive, Daphne!" He retorted, letting go of my hand. "You haven't been here, you have no idea how much is at stake."

"I know that when that damn barn shows up, she goes away again for another 27 years, the Troubles will end, but the grief that she's caused will stay." The anger began bubbling up inside of me again, and I couldn't believe that Duke, of all people, was defending her. "I'm aware of the logistics of her presence, Duke."

"We were kids the last time she was here. You don't understand."

"Understand what?"

We both glanced toward the apartment door, which was open, a young woman with straight, blond hair standing in the doorway. Someone stood behind her…but not just someone…Nathan Wuornos? Holy hell.

"We came by to see Vince and Dave, but they weren't here and we heard voices." Nathan began, looking at me oddly. "Daphne?"

"Nathan." I smiled, wanly. "Apparently, this is my day to come out of the shadows for all of my old friends. Hi. I'd get up, but, well…" I motioned to the blanket-covered lump that was Annie, who had fallen back asleep. "Give me a minute to make myself decent and put her down." I buttoned up, tossing the blanket aside and took Annie into the bedroom, laying her in the bassinet. Then, taking a deep breath, steeling myself for the introduction that was about to take place, I went back into the living room to meet my mother's murderer.