AN: DUDE! LABRADOODLE!

abbstagirl: Yes, sadly they are getting old. It's necessary, for plot purposes, but I just can't imagine them being that age. Either way, you are correct. Mal would be about sixty-three and Natara probably around sixty-one at this point.

Natara watched as her four-year-old daughter chased after a small white butterfly. Malia's joyful laugh reached her ears and she couldn't help but smile at the sound. It had been nearly five years since she'd left San Francisco and just under four since she'd given up her position as an FBI agent, but it was for the best. Besides, she enjoyed her life as it was now, with her daughter and her husband.

Still, she couldn't help but wonder what her old friends were up to. She'd heard that Amy had gotten married, too. Kai was... a lost cause. He was a nice guy, but she just couldn't see him with a woman. And Mal-

"Mommy! Mommy, look!" Malia held out her finger for her mother to see. Perched on the end of her tiny finger was a caterpillar. Natara smiled and gathered her daughter close, Malia's hair tickling her chin as she rested it gently on her head. Sometimes she reminded her so much of her father. Malia spun away from her mother and held her finger out to her father.

"Daddy! Look what I found!" Andrew lifted the small girl onto his lap and examined the caterpillar with her. Natara smiled as she observed them, their heads bowed together. She looked so much like him that it was uncanny. Natara knew right then that she had made the right choice in leaving her old life behind in San Francisco.

"Mrs. Alexander, thank you for meeting with us," Malia smiled warmly, shaking the older woman's hand. "We're so sorry for your loss."

"If there's anything at all that we can do for you, please let us know." The woman smiled sadly and took a seat opposite the two detectives.

"Thank you, but the only thing you can do for me now is find the person who did this," she said. "I'll help however I can." Malia nodded and produced a small notepad from her pocket. Grabbing a pencil from her purse, she turned back to the woman.

"Mrs. Alexander, what can you tell us about your husband?" she asked.

"Well, he was charming, very likeable. He made friends easily, and as far as I know there wasn't anyone who might have wanted to harm him," Mrs. Alexander said, folding her hands on her lap. "He and his friends sometimes went hunting in the woods, down by Santa Cruz. He was actually down there this weekend with his hunting buddies. He seemed really excited, and kept telling me that he couldn't wait to get out in the woods again. I found that sort of odd, seeing as he told me a few weeks earlier that he was getting bored of the same old game. He said he needed a real challenge." Malia jotted down everything she said, glancing up occasionally.

"Do you know why he seemed so eager to go hunting if he said he was getting bored of hunting the same kinds of animals?" Jared questioned.

"No. I... I had asked him about it, but he wouldn't tell me what they had planned," she said, partially lost in thought. "I still don't know what happened out there. I know that he and his four buddies left on Thursday, and that they were supposed to get back yesterday. When Marvin didn't come back I thought that maybe they got delayed, until I saw one of his friends at the store last night."

Malia frowned. So many things stuck out to her, but she knew better than to point them out right in front of the victim's wife. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Alexander." she pulled a white business card from her purse. "That's my card. Please, don't hesitate to call if you think of anything else, or see something."

"Thank you, detectives," the older woman said warmly. "I really do appreciate this." Malia and Jared turned back towards their car as the door closed behind them.

"Something about that story doesn't add up," Jared said confidently.

"Yeah," Malia nodded. "Ken said that Marvin had been in the water for days. If they just got back yesterday, that would have meant that Marvin died while they were on the trip."

"So why didn't they call off the hunting trip and come back home? And why was his body in the water?" Malia shook her head and shrugged. "Come on. I want to see the crime scene again."

Later:

Jared frowned as he observed the man in front of him. Marvin Alexander had been stabbed through the chest- or he had fallen on it- the coroner's report would tell. The man had died in a worn, now bloodstained, camo jacket. It was obviously old and worn regularly; it was torn in more than a few places.

"Hey, I think I might have something." Jared straightened up and strode over to where Malia was going over her old notes. She flipped between a few different pages, her eyebrows knitting together as she scanned them.

"What? What is it?"

"There have been a string of disappearances all around San Francisco, right?" Jared nodded, motioning for Malia to continue. "I don't know how to explain it, but I think they might be connected. I don't know how or if it's even a valid thought. But I... I can just feel it, you know?"

"How about we head back to the station and look through some of the files, then?" Jared suggested. "I don't think I'll be able to get much more out of this scene." He glanced over his shoulder as a beat cop snapped a picture of the body. He knew that there was something there, right in front of his face. He just didn't know what he should be looking for.