Michael was driving through a residential neighborhood in the dark. A wealthy neighborhood, given the walled estates he and Kitt were passing. He eventually pulled up to a wall for one of the estates.

"Right, let's do this, Kitt."

Kitt opened the roof, but said reproachfully, "Michael, you are clearly enjoying this."

"Of course, I am. Aren't you?"

Kitt chose not to answer. Michael chuckled, then stood on the driver's seat. Kitt catapulted him up. Michael landed on the top of the wall, then dropped down on the other side. Kitt drove off as Michael carefully approached the mansion and slipped inside.

Once inside, he raised his commlink and whispered, "Kitt? Is the coast clear?"

"I am not detecting anyone in your immediate vicinity," replied Kitt, also in a whisper. "However, I would advise you to be quick, quiet, and careful."

"Always, pal. Always."

Michael snuck down a hallway with several doors. He heard voices up ahead and ducked into one of the rooms. The voices went into the room next door. Michael heard the phone ring and then someone picked up. Michael went back into the hallway and came back into the room almost immediately. He could hear indistinct voices in the other room.

"All done," he whispered into the commlink.

"I am monitoring the call and will notify you when it is finished," was the whispered response.

Michael made himself comfortable in an overstuffed chair. After about 10 or 15 minutes, the commlink vibrated. Michael moved to the window, silently opened it, and slipped out of the mansion.

Kitt said, still in a whisper, "The package has been found. I will meet you in a half-hour, as arranged."

Michael carefully made his way away from the mansion back to the wall. He then followed the wall into a wooded area. From there, he walked to a paved road, still remaining in the bushes. He waited until he heard a car horn. He stepped out from the bushes and quickly got into Kitt. They then drove a short distance to Kitt's garage.

"If you wish this to succeed," said Kitt, "I suggest you lose the grin."

"I assure you, Kitt, I know when a poker face is needed."

The garage door rose and Kitt pulled in. Bonnie and Melissa were at the workbench. Michael exited the car, smiling broadly at them as he walked over to the workbench.

"Hello, ladies. Always nice to have a welcoming committee when we get home. Especially this late in the evening."

"Well, to be honest . . ." Melissa said.

"Yes?"

"You see . . . I was on the phone with Uncle Devon and –"

"No," Michael groaned. "Kitt and I only just got home. I figured we'd have a couple of days off, since Devon's off at that conference." He mock glared at his ward. "And having you do his dirty work, too."

"Oh, no, no. It isn't a case. At least not . . . When I was done with the call, I headed here, so I could be here when you two arrived. And I found this on a table in the hallway just outside Uncle Devon's office."

Melissa picked a small, colorful box off the workbench and handed it to Michael. To his credit, Michael took it and examined it, like he hadn't been the one to put it on the table in the first place a little less than an hour ago.

"It's a chocolate orange," said Bonnie. "According to the label."

Melissa took the box back and opened it, pulling out a foil-wrapped ball. She rapped it once – firmly – on the workbench and then unwrapped it. The chocolate ball inside fell into pieces. She took one and popped it into her mouth.

"It even looks like orange slices," said Bonnie.

"It's chocolate with orange flavoring. Try a piece."

Bonnie and Michael each took a slice. Melissa took a second one.

"I used to get one every Christmas," she reminisced. "As a thank-you from Santa for the thermos of hot chocolate and plate of Mrs. Davis's chocolate chip cookies that I left him."

"Devon?" Michael guessed.

"Dad," Melissa shook her head with a soft smile. "When I stopped believing in Santa Claus, I said I hoped I would still get a chocolate orange every Christmas. Dad said since I didn't believe in Santa anymore –"

Michael cut her off "Don't tell me he stopped –"

"Exact opposite. He said it meant he could give me a chocolate orange whenever. Sort of a 'thinking of you' kind of thing."

Bonnie said, "That sounds like Wilton Knight."

Melissa frowned. "Yes. But Dad's been dead for over two years now. Uncle Devon's off at the conference. And he didn't tell either of you about chocolate oranges, did he?"

"Not a story about you I've heard him tell, no."

"What stories has he told you, Michael?"

"Oh, you know. Stories. Which reminds me: Is Greg coming over for dinner anytime soon?"

Melissa laughed. "Greg already knows them. And . . . more."

"You almost said 'worse' just now, didn't you?"

Melissa just smiled at Michael but didn't say anything. Bonnie, on the other hand, gave him an appraising look.

"Anyway, it wasn't Uncle Devon. And it wasn't either of you. So I wonder who it was. And why now?"

Melissa loosely wrapped the rest of the chocolate orange in the foil and put it back in the box.

"Coming, Michael?"

"In a bit. I need to let Bonnie know how things went so she can yell at me for being irresponsible with Kitt and then figure out what tests she needs to run."

Bonnie whacked Michael on the arm. "I do not yell at you!"

"Yells. Hits. Calls me names. It's terrible," Michael stage whispered to Melissa.

Kitt observed to the universe, "I should sell tickets to their performances. Especially Michael's."

Melissa smiled at them, then headed for the mansion, thoughtfully hefting the box in her hand. Bonnie started gathering her tools.

"I'll stop by later," Michael called after her. "See if you can find a movie for us to watch on TV."

As soon as Melissa was out of earshot, Bonnie said, "If I were involved, I would enlist Leon."

"Um?"

"The site manager? Who has keys to every room along with a legit reason to go into them. And he adores Melissa."

"Really?"

You know all those chairs throughout the house? They aren't there for decoration. Leon put them around when Melissa was first injured, so she'd always have a place to sit when she needed to rest."

"How'd you learn that?"

"Melissa mentioned it once in passing. Same reason Mr. C put all those benches on the grounds. Also, even foil-wrapped, don't leave them in a bag with dirty laundry too much longer."

Michael chuckled. "How'd you guess?"

"Karr has outside access, but everything he does is logged in. He didn't make any searches today. But he did call Kitt. And shortly after that call, you let me know you had been delayed and wouldn't be here when Devon called. I'm guessing Karr told you the story?" Michael nodded, and she continued, "Devon must be warming up to Karr finally, if he shared that story with him."

"Karr heard it from Wilton Knight," said Kitt. "He had a habit of talking to Karr as he was working on him."

"Do you think Melissa knows?" asked Michael.

"According to Karr, she suspects but is confused. She doesn't realize that Karr was involved. Or that her father is the one who told the story to Karr."

Bonnie nodded. "So she's pretty sure Michael's involved but doesn't know Karr was the mastermind."

"Wonder how she'll take it when she figures it out."

"She will be pleased that we were all in it together," said Kitt.

"Leon, you say? I'll enlist his aid first thing tomorrow." He pulled his bag from the trunk. "But I'll unpack tonight. Have a nice night, you two."

"If by 'nice', you mean 'calm and quiet'," replied Kitt, "then most definitely."

Michael chuckled as he sauntered out of the garage.