[This takes place immediately after GK: Identification Game.]

Devon placed his empty teacup and saucer on the coffee table, on top of the pile of empty plates and next to what was left of Melissa's birthday cake. The birthday girl herself was on the sofa. She had finally given into her fatigue, kicking off her shoes and laying down, using Michael's lap as a pillow. Michael was chatting with Bonnie, absently rubbing Melissa's shoulder. Devon wasn't sure he even realized what he was doing.

Devon had very few regrets in his life. There were things he should have done differently, true. But there were very few things that he truly wished for the opportunity to go back and change what he had done. One of those regrets was not finding out about Wilton's last-minute change in Melissa's guardianship right away. If only he had read the will or explicitly asked the lawyers about the provisions Wilton had made for his daughter. Or for Michael, for that matter. Melissa should have had Michael in her life since her father's death. And vice versa. Seeing them together like this was proof of that.

Bonnie said to Melissa, "Sorry you had such a small party for your 17th birthday."

"Saturday," replied Melissa, which is how Devon knew she wasn't asleep . . . yet.

"Saturday?" asked Michael.

Devon replied for his goddaughter. "Doris always hosts a party for Melissa on the Saturday after her birthday."

"That's the party for friends," Melissa added drowsily. "My actual birthday is for family."

"Bedtime, I think, my dear."

"Fifteen more minutes," she mumbled.

Michael agreed to her request good-naturedly, though Devon doubted she'd last more than five. Melissa settled herself, one arm wrapped around her birthday gift from Michael: an electric blue plush frog. Which was at least four feet long. Melissa herself was barely five feet. Curled up on the sofa like she was, the stuffed animal dwarfed her.

Bonnie shook her head. "Wherever did you get that, Michael?"

"At a midway." Before either Bonnie or Devon could ask, he elaborated. "I was on a case a couple of weeks ago. I needed to scope out a few things at a county fair. I ended up playing a few games at the midway and won the frog."

"Which you decided to give to Melissa."

"Better than a book. I mean, really, Bonnie. A book?"

"It's a basic primer on mechanical engineering. Since she's planning to major in mech E, she'll need one. And this is one of the best."

"A textbook?" Michael groaned. "That's even worse."

"It will give her something to read when she's recovering from her next surgery. Or do you enjoy having file folders thrown at you when she's bored?"

"Hmm, I guess. Devon?"

"I agree with Bonnie. Her gift to Melissa was spot on. And getting it signed by the author was a thoughtful touch."

"No, no, no. I meant: tell us about your gift to Melissa."

"It's a music box."

Devon pointed to the gift in question. It was a small wooden box, painted with flowers and honeybees on the lid.

"I can see that. Let me guess: It plays Flight of the Bumblebees."

Devon gave the now-sleeping birthday girl a fond smile. "When she was six, Melissa informed me that, as her godfather, I was only allowed to sing her gospel music."

Devon leaned forward and lifted the lid. He then sang the chorus of In the Garden along to the music being played:

And He walks with me and He talks with me

And He tells me I am His own

And the joy share as we tarry there

None other has ever known

"Okay, Kitt. You're up."

"Up, Michael? My garage is on ground level. And I do not sleep."

"You may not, pal. But Melissa does. And she's sleeping now. So can the act and tell us about your gift."

"I had help."

Michael snorted and Melissa twitched. Michael stroked her hair until she relaxed again.

"That's obvious."

"I contacted the court bailiff, Jay Slade, and explained what I wanted. He provided it and delivered it here. He even offered to have it framed. However, I doubt Melissa will want to hang it on her wall."

It referred to a photo: an 8x10 full color photo of Garthe, obviously from a surveillance camera at either the courthouse or the prison. Garthe was in his orange prison jumpsuit and had both handcuffs and shackles. The full-length photo had been taken from the side with his black eye.

"Unlikely," murmured Devon.

"Agreed. Which is why I told Mr. Slade that a standard manila folder would suffice."

"Melissa can put it in a drawer," said Bonnie. "And look at it if and when she wants."

"And now, it really is bedtime. One of you grab her loot. I'll carry Melissa. And her frog."

"If you get her presents, Devon, I'll get her crutch and her shoes."

Michael stood up and then lifted Melissa off the sofa. She mumbled indistinctly.

"Sorry, kiddo," said Michel with a smile. "Your fifteen minutes is up. And you're not getting any more time."

"She made an observation, Michael, not a request."

"And what did she observe, pal?"

"Best. Birthday. Ever."