Ms. O'Hara hadn't cared to elaborate. Neither had Sherlock or even Gracie. So Sherlock had grabbed John's arm and pulled him down to their flat. Margaret breathed a sigh of relief.

"That John man makes me jumpy." She said.

"I like him. He's nice." Gracie informed her. "And he didn't kill Schroeder." She added, going over to feed her beloved mice. "Lucy, Linus and Charlie Brown wouldn't know what to do without him."

Margaret gave a noncommittal jerk of her head as she reached under the couch to gather up their timid, white with brown spots cat Shoebox. She stroked his ears and cuddled him on the couch.

Gracie suddenly stood up straight. "Hey! Can we invite Sherlock and John over to dinner for my birthday?"

"I guess," Margaret shrugged. "Oh! Speaking of your birthday, I have an early gift for you."

She nudged Shoebox off of her lap and went over to the bookcase. Pulling out a book on bicycle mechanics, she slid a certificate from between the pages.

"You know how you were saying you wanted to show off your catapult? Well!" She flourished the certificate in front of Gracie's face. "I signed you up for a young engineers fair. It's next Saturday. Is that enough time to finish your project and get a board together?"

Gracie's mouth went wide along with her eyes for a moment. "Yeah, I can do that."

Margaret's smile faltered. "I mean, if you don't want to you don't have…"

"Of COURSE I want to do it!" Gracie's O mouth was replaced by an ear-to-ear grin. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!"

Gracie gave her mom a hug and dashed to finish her catapult.

Margaret smiled.

"You'll have to thank Sherlock too. He's the one that told me about it."

"He'll be here next Monday, for my birthday, right?"

"Right. I'll text him now."

"And we're getting chocolate cake, right?"

"It's your birthday sweetie."

"Okay."

"Are there any kids you'd like to have over?" Margaret asked, grabbing her mobile.

"Nope."

Margaret sighed. "Gracie? When you go to that fair next Saturday, I want you to at least say hi to someone, okay."

"Okay. Thanks mom."

Margaret turned away, typing out a text to Sherlock and musing about how Moriarty could have given her such a gift.

"Are you sure you don't need help with that wagon?" Margaret called at Gracie's retreating back.

"Nope!" Gracie called back, lugging her catapult along. "Bye Mom!"

"I'll come by at 3 to see your presentation. Have fun sweetie!"

"I don't understand." Margaret said to Mr. Clarke, the man in charge of the fair. "Why isn't my daughter presenting? Her schedule said 3 o'clock."

Mr. Clarke sighed and pushed his glasses up as her pinched the bridge of his nose. "For the last time Ms. O'Hara, your daughter never checked in. She is not at the fair."

"Then where is she?" Margaret growled.

"No idea. If I were you Ms. O'Hara, I'd call the police." He walked away.

Margaret tearfully checked her phone for messages. There was one. She clicked it.

"Don't call the police." Moriarty said.