“Who?” John whispered. The rabbit didn’t answer. John went to the door; through the front window he saw Clay Burke standing outside staring at the door, apparently politely ignoring the fact that he could see right into John’s apartment if he wanted to. John sighed and slid the chain off the latch, then opened the door wide.

“Clay, hey. Come in.” Clay hesitated on the threshold, glancing at the interior that was too sparse to be a mess. John shrugged. “Before you judge, remember that I’ve seen your place look worse than this,” he said, and Clay smiled.

“Yes, you have,” he said at last, and came inside.

The noise from Theodore’s head started again, but John chose to ignore it.

“What is that?” Clay asked after a few seconds. John waited to answer, knowing the sound would stop soon, and after a moment it did, with the same click as before.

“It’s the rabbit head.” John smiled.

“Right, of course.” Clay looked toward the dresser, then back at John as though nothing was out of the ordinary. Considering what they’d been through in the past, it really wasn’t. “So, what can I do for you?” John asked before something stranger could happen. Clay rocked on his heels momentarily.

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” he said lightly.

“Really? Didn’t we have that talk yesterday?” John said drily. He stood again and grabbed a clean shirt from his dresser and went into the bathroom to change.

“Yeah well, you know, you can never be too sure,” Clay said, raising his voice to be heard. John turned on the faucet. “John, what do you know about Charlie’s aunt Jen?”

John turned the faucet off abruptly, jarred out of his petulant mood. “Clay, what did you say?”

“I said what do you know about Charlie’s aunt?”

John changed his shirt quickly and came back out into the bedroom. “Aunt Jen? I never met her.” Clay gave him a sharp look.

“You never saw her?”

“I didn’t say that,” John said. “Why are you asking me this now?” Clay hesitated.

“Charlie became very eager to see you again when I mentioned that you had seen Jen that night,” he said, seeming to choose his words with care.

“Why would Charlie care if I saw Jen or not? For that matter, why do you?” John reached past Clay to grab a belt hanging off the foot of the bed, and began to slip it through the loops of his jeans.

“It just made me realize that there is a lot we don’t know about that night,” Clay said. “I think your conversation with Charlie tonight can help fill in those gaps, if you ask the right questions.”

“You want me to interrogate her?” John laughed without humor. Clay sighed, frustration leaking through his habitual calm.