There was a chill in the damp air and the fog hung low about the lake. Christopher walked through tall grasses dotted with the dead, yellowing leaves of autumn till he came to the bench under the willow tree.

"Where are you off to?" Jean had called as she saw him slip through the front door. He'd hoped her work would keep her busy enough to not notice his brief disappearance.

"I just need a walk."

"I can come with you. You've not been back for so long you might –"

"I remember the way," he cut her off. Then smiled wide enough to show his dimples. "Jean Mary, are you worried about me?"

She laughed a little. "I can't imagine why I would be," she replied.

He turned and went back to her, took her face in both of his long, thin hands and kissed her quick. "Nothing's going to happen to me," he said.

Her eyes knit together making the lines in her forehead he knew so well. She nodded like she understood. But she couldn't possibly. Someone like Jean never would. He let go of her and winked as he turned away.

"I'll be home for dinner," he said, like had so many times before. It was all so familiar. He could have been 20 again and headed out for a drink. She could have been a young woman with hair halfway down her back, smiling and hoping like she always did. He could have been young enough to make things right. But she wasn't, and he wasn't, and he never could have anyway. Things would be what they would be.

The bench stood empty. The leaves swirled and the winds blew, but no one waited to meet him. But he wasn't told to walk to the bench and look around, he was told to go to the bench and wait.

And so he did.

Jean pulled the roast from the oven and Charlie reflected, not for the first time, that this was the kind of home people wished for, aromatic and savory, clean and warm. Everything about it pulled you in and it was all thanks to Jean, who stood now, in front of the oven with hot pads on her hands and a frown on her face. She glanced, again, toward the door.

"You really think he's alright?"

"I think if he survived what he did already, a walk to the lake won't trouble him."

"It's just been so long," Jean said.

It had been a long time. Hours. And Charlie wasn't happy about it. He had a policeman's instinct to check things out, but if anything was wrong, and he thought it might be, his highest priority was Jean's safety. So he stayed exactly where he was and offered what reassurances he could.

Just as he was beginning to wonder if he made the right call, the door burst open and they both breathed a sigh of relief.

"Auntie Jean!" came the voice, which was decidedly not Christopher's.

"Danny?" Jean set down her hot pads and strode into the hall to see for herself. Danny smiled wide and threw his arms around his aunt.

"Christopher's home, is he?"

"Well," she started.

But Charlie had his opportunity. With Danny here he could do as he'd wanted and go see about Christopher. He slapped Danny on the back. "Watch out for her," he said. "I'll be back in a moment."

"What am I watching out for?" Danny said, as he watched Charlie grab his hat and pull the door open.

"Oh," Charlie stepped back as a tall, dark haired man entered the house. His eyes narrowed in surprise as the door fell away before him, and he looked about to exclaim. But his countenance shifted quickly from annoyance to amusement.

"Looks like a full house," he said, looking from Charlie to Danny.

"Oh Christopher!" Jean rushed toward him, hesitating just a moment, Charlie noticed, before taking him by the arm and pulling him in. "Danny's come to see you."

"Little Danny Parks?" Christopher said, crossing to Danny. "I feel like I should pick you up and swing you around but you're taller than I am. Or nearly!" He pulled Danny into a hug.

"It's good to see you Uncle Christopher. I still can't believe you're back. I don't think I would have believed it if I hadn't seen you."

"He drove from Melbourne," Jean said.

"Lucien said it might not be a good idea, but I couldn't stay away."

"And how would Lucien know what's a good idea for us?" Christopher asked quizzically.

Jean opened her mouth to respond, but Christopher turned to Charlie before she could.

"And this is…" Christopher narrowed his eyes as through trying attach Charlie to the face of a child he once knew.

"Ah, this is Charlie Davis," Jean said, laying a hand on Charlie's arm. "He works with Lucien and rents a room here. And he's a great help to me," Jean said.

Charlie would have stood between Jean and anything at that moment, and truly, when the door opened one more time he thought he may have to. But it was Dr. Blake who walked through and looked thoroughly taken aback by the scene in front of him.

"Doc!" Both Danny and Charlie chorused together. But Danny's was a hearty greeting accompanied by a chagrined smile, while Charlie's was more an acknowledgment that help had arrived. Somehow, some way, Dr. Blake would know what to do.

But then Charlie looked at Lucien's face and, well, it was going to be a long night.

"I know you said not to come Doc, but…"

"Nonsense," Lucien said, recovering himself. "It's always good to see you, Danny. We'll figure it out." He shot a look at Jean who nodded. They always did figure things out.

Jean raised her eyebrows and told them all the dinner had been done for a while and they needed to eat before it got cold. Danny and Christopher took their seats while Lucien took a moment to remove his coat and hat. Charlie lingered in the hallway.

"How's she been, Charlie?"

"Worried. Christopher left two hours ago to take a walk. Only got back a few minutes ago."

"Where'd he go?" Lucien asked.

Charlie shook his head. He had no idea. Lucien pursed his lips as he hung his hat on the hook.

"Did you find a cause of death for Ivy?"

Lucien nodded. "Her neck was broken."

"Could she have fallen somehow? Broke it in the lake?"

Lucien put his arm around Charlie's neck from behind. "Only if she fell while someone was holding her like this."

Charlie sputtered as Lucien let go to hang his coat.

"Well, that's murder then?"

Lucien nodded and pulled Charlie away toward the door. "That's not the distressing part, though."

Charlie raised his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

"She's delivered a child. I can't know if it was born living. But if it was, Jean has a grandchild out there without a mother."

Charlie turned toward Jean who was laughing at something Danny said while she sat a plate in front of Christopher.

"And she's not to know about it. Not yet."