"Claire McCarroll, nine years old. Raped then murdered back in '63." Scotty set the box down grimly.

Lilly shuddered visibly. "Cause of death?"

"Strangulation."

"Suspects back in '63?"

"Fifteen-year-old Richard Froelich was incriminated with basically no evidence, sentenced to death. He was eventually paroled under a new name. We got a tip from a girl out in Lehigh Point. She says that her fourth grade teacher, Mr March, sexually abused a group of his students and that Claire was among them."

Lilly shuddered again and started lifting things out of the box. Claire had been a pretty little girl, short shiny dark hair in a pixie cut and a shy smile. Lilly smiled slightly at the little girl and set the photo aside, moving on to the more gruesome aspects of the box: autopsy reports, photos of the body. "Scotty, was there any DNA harvested at the scene?"

"It was essentially a perfect murder. Ceremonial, almost. No DNA, no fingerprints, no semen. Her body wasn't even natural. Her eyes were closed."

"That doesn't give us a whole lot to go on." Lilly sighed, almost defeated. "Witnesses?"

"Three girls testified at the original trial: Marjorie Nolan, Grace Novotny and Madeleine McCarthy. Grace is in some kind of "independent living" place, Marjorie teaches kindergarten and Madeleine's last known address is six blocks from here."

"We'll talk to them in that order, Grace, Marjorie, Madeleine."

"Grace Novotny? My name is Lilly."

Grace's blond hair was tied haphazardly in a ponytail. Her blue eyes veered and her hands wrung nervously. "Why are you here?" she asked, her voice a low, keening cry. Lilly could see Grace as she must have looked 40 years ago, as a little girl in a too-big dress and rubber boots, two pigtails fastened with plain elastic bands, mouth chapped, hands wandering.

"Do you remember Claire McCarroll, Grace?" Lilly asked gently.

"Noooooooo," Grace moaned. "Noooo…"

"It's okay, Grace," Lilly said. "Try to remember."

"Noooo…" Grace started to cry. Lilly and Scotty glanced at each other.

"If you don't want to talk, Grace, we'll come back later," Lilly offered.

Grace groaned. "Yes…" she muttered.

As they walked out of the house, Scotty groaned. "That got us nowhere."

"Don't talk like that," Lilly said. "We've still got Marjorie and Madeleine."

"Yeah. I just hope they can talk."

Lilly gave him a look but said nothing. "Let's go see Marjorie."

The kindergarten where Marjorie taught was a bright, benevolent building. Smiling suns with names decorated the windows. A short woman with dark blonde ringlets walked up to Lilly and Scotty.

"Hello," she said primly. "I'm Miss Nolan, and you are…?"

"Detectives Rush and Valens, homicide."

"Oh my. Children, it's story time. Miss Evans will read you a story. Go sit on your mats, please!"

Lilly could see Marjorie as a little girl, bossy and prim, constantly trying to reform Grace.

"Marjorie, we're reinvestigating the 1963 homicide of Claire McCarroll."

Marjorie's bright stature darkened. "Oh, it was Ricky Froelich," she said instantly, tossing her curls. "I thought he was in prison?"

"No, Marjorie. That's what they thought in 1963. Now we're reinvestigating it because somebody phoned us and gave us a bit of information about your teacher, Mr. March."

Marjorie's eyes instantly flashed anger. "I'm teaching…"

"We understand. We can come back at a more convenient time."

Marjorie smiled condescendingly. "You do that," she said.

Walking out of the school, Scotty threw his hands up in defeat. "Maybe, just maybe, Madeleine will have something."

"Madeleine McCarthy?"

"The one and only." She grinned.

"We're detectives Rush and Valens, from homicide."

"I guess joking about 'dying' to meet you would be inappropriate."

Scotty laughed. "Just a little. We're here about Claire McCarroll."

"Have I gone back in time?" Madeleine grinned.

"We investigate cold cases," Lilly explained. "Cases that ceased investigation."

Madeleine nodded. "It wasn't Ricky."

"That's what we're trying to prove," Scotty said. "You knew Claire?"

"Sort of. She was really shy. All of the girls wanted her to be their friends but she had no specific group. On the day she was…taken…we had a picnic in the schoolyard and then she went on a bike-hike with Ricky…and that was the last anyone saw of her."

"Madeleine, were you in Mr. March's fourth grade class?"

Madeleine nodded slowly. "I'll remember him forever," she said sadly.

A/N: Ok, so I've decided to do a case-centric fanfiction. See the disclaimer! PS: Feedback is nice.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. Lilly, Scotty, the rest of the homicide squad, Christina and any other Cold Case people belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS. Madeleine, Claire, Marjorie, Grace and anyone from the case itself belongs to Ann-Marie MacDonald and The Way The Crow Flies.