A/N Sorry this has taken so long to upload, RL has been hectic. Thank you for all the follows, reviews, kudo's and comments, they feed the muse. I hope to get the last chapter done by next week. Toodles and thanks for reading.

Sunday

The weekend was winding down. There was a backyard barbecue planned for that evening for those who were able to stay and leave on Monday. Though Bobby had enjoyed the reunion more than he had anticipated, the nostalgia was starting to wear off, and the comfort of their New York lives was calling them back. They decided to take one last walk around the lake before leaving.

The water was a mirror, reflecting the cloudless sky above. As they strolled, they heard a commotion coming from the lodge. A group of people was huddled around, whispering and pointing towards the water. Bobby's detective instincts kicked in, and he quickened his pace.

When they reached the crowd, they saw a small boat bobbing in the lake, and Marcus Ramsay's lifeless body lay face down inside it. The colour drained from Bobby's face, and Alex felt his grip tighten.

The weekend of fun and nostalgia had taken a dark turn. Bobby's high school reunion was now a crime scene, and he and Alex were right in the middle of it.

The local sheriff arrived, a man named Daniels who had clearly seen better days. His gut hung over his belt, and his semi-bald head gleamed in the sunlight. His eyes were bloodshot from what was likely a long night of drinking. He looked overwhelmed, and Bobby knew the investigation would need more than just the sheriff's small-town expertise.

They approached Daniels, and Alex introduced themselves. "We're Detectives Goren and Eames with the Major Case Squad in New York," she said, flashing her badge. "We're part of this reunion party, and we'd like to offer our assistance."

The sheriff looked at them sceptically, Bobby in particular, but the desperation in his eyes was clear. "What's your connection?" he asked gruffly, nodding toward the body.

"Marcus Ramsay," Bobby said, his voice low and serious. "He was an asshole to almost everyone in high school. I can't say we were friends, but I had no reason to harm him."

Daniels nodded, his expression unreadable. "Alright, Goren. You can help, but don't go poking around where you don't belong. And anything you find comes to me first."

They nodded in agreement. They knew it wasn't going to be easy, but they couldn't leave the reunion without getting to the bottom of Marcus's death. The dance had ended with a bang, but it was clear the real drama was just beginning.

As they started to interview the other guests, the whispers grew louder. Secrets from the past began to resurface, and Bobby realized that the person responsible for Marcus's death might have been at the reunion all along. Old animosities and unresolved tensions were bubbling to the surface, and the serene lake was now a chilling reminder of the darkness that could lurk beneath the most picturesque of facades.

The air was tense as Bobby and Alex approached the first group of classmates, notebooks and pens at the ready. They began to ask questions about Marcus's behaviour during the weekend, and the responses were a mix of shock and suspicion. It seemed that everyone had a theory about what had happened, and some were more than eager to share their grievances about the deceased.

One of Bobby's old classmates, Jenny, broke down in tears as she spoke of Marcus's cruelty towards her in high school. "He never let me forget that I was the nerdy kid with glasses," she sobbed. "I'm sorry, but I can't say I'm sad he's gone."

Another classmate, Tom, spoke through gritted teeth about a business deal that had gone sour between him and Marcus. "He was always looking to get ahead, no matter who he stepped on," Tom said, his eyes cold.

Bobby noticed that Vicky, Marcus' high school girlfriend, was nowhere to be seen. She was the only person they hadn't spoken to, and when he asked about her, the others only shrugged. "She's probably off crying in her room," one woman said with a sneer. "They were still seeing each other, you know."

They thanked everyone for their time and cooperation and asked everyone to stay at the lodge until Sheriff Daniels told them they could leave. The crowd dispersed with many unhappy grumbles and complaints.

They made their way to Vicky's room but found that she wasn't there.

They decided to retrace Marcus's steps, hoping to find a clue that had been missed in the chaos. Marcus's body was still in the boat, but it was now tied to the dock.

"Sheriff?" Bobby called to the portly man. "Where is your ME? Why hasn't this body been examined or removed yet?"

"We don't have one, Detective. Heck, I only have two police officers under me. We're a small town catering to mostly hunting types during the season, and that's when we get busy, and by busy, I mean breaking up the occasional bar fight or two hunters claiming the same deer. The last time we had a murder in these parts was before I became Sheriff fifteen years ago. I contacted our colleagues in the next county; they're sending their ME. He should be here soon."

Bobby huffed in annoyance, "Do you mind if we take a look?" The Sheriff eyed him suspiciously. "Look, we won't move the body," Alex spoke up before Bobby said something to piss the Sheriff off. "We just want to take a closer look." After a beat, he nodded his head in acquiescence.

Bobby lay on the dock and perched himself as far over the edge as he could, to hang over the boat to examine the body. He noted dried blood on the back of Marcus' head and surmised that he had to have been struck with something; his clothes were also damp in places not exposed to the sun. Wedged under Marcus' hand was a crumpled note. Bobby quietly pointed it out to Eames, then turned to see if the Sheriff was watching them; he seemed to be momentarily distracted by one of his deputies. Bobby quickly extracted the note and read it before returning it.

Alex helped Bobby upright again. "The note had to be from Vicky," Bobby told Alex quietly. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "The note read: 'Meet me at the boathouse tonight. We need to talk. V.'" he explained. The Sheriff's eyes were on them once again, and they shared one of their iconic looks, where an entire conversation is held without a word, and they walked off the dock, thanking the Sheriff as they went past him, having silently decided to keep what they had found to themselves for now.

As the sun set on their last night at the reunion, Bobby and Alex made their way to the boathouse. The door was ajar, and they could hear the sound of someone crying inside. They stepped in to find Vicky, her face tear-stained, holding a framed picture of her and Marcus from 1979, both of them beaming having been voted Prom King and Queen.

She looked up at them, "He was going to leave his wife for me," Vicky whispered, her voice breaking. "But then he said he couldn't do it. That he was sorry for everything."

Bobby took a deep breath, his mind racing. Vicky looked up at him, her eyes pleading. "It's not what you think," she said. "I didn't kill him."

Alex placed a comforting hand on Vicky's shoulder, her eyes never leaving Bobby's. "We found the note you wrote to him. Tell us what happened," she said gently.

Vicky's story unfolded like a tragic love letter, full of regret and unspoken promises. Marcus had wanted to escape his mundane life, even though his wife came from old money, they never went out or on expensive holidays or bought the newest gadget or car; instead, she dragged him from one charity event to another, and he had begun to get bored. Vicky had been his ticket out. They had been having an affair for the last three years; it started when they had bumped into each other at a convention. They started meeting once every few months, then it slowly became more frequent with overnight meetings turning into weekends away at luxurious hotels, then spending two weeks together in Hawaii six months earlier. That was when he promised her he was going to leave his wife, something he had been hinting at but never outright said before. When a month went by and he still hadn't left her, she asked him about it, and he gave her some excuse that it wasn't the right time. Every time she'd asked him after that, he had a different excuse until three weeks earlier when he realized what the price of his freedom was going to cost him, he backed out and broke the affair off, leaving Vicky heartbroken and humiliated.

"I wanted to confront him," Vicky admitted. "I was so angry. This was the perfect time to do it; he refused to see me and blocked my number. So I sent him the note, asking him to meet me here last night."

"Did you have anything to do with his death?" Bobby asked.

Her eyes searched Bobby's, desperate for understanding. "No, Bobby. I swear. I just wanted to talk to him, to make him see what he was giving up."

Bobby looked at Alex and very subtly nodded; she squeezed Vicky's shoulder. "We believe you."

They decided to keep Vicky's confession to themselves for the moment, not wanting to cause any unnecessary alarm. The investigation was already tense enough without adding a love triangle to the mix.

As the night grew darker, Bobby and Alex retreated to their room, the walls closing in on them with the weight of unanswered questions. Bobby poured over the information they had gathered, his mind racing with theories.

Alex managed to coax Bobby away from the case to enjoy the dinner that had been sent to their room, the planned schedule having been abandoned, and everyone was given the clear to leave the following day.

End Chapter 4