He sinks into his desk chair and heaves a sigh. He's been waiting for this moment all week, carefully planning, down to the last details. Last year’s little fiesta didn’t go so well, what with so many nasty surprises throwing him off his game. Things’ll be smoother this time. The bait has been carefully laid into the trap and he's monitoring the front door with the security camera. He sees that signature Hawaiian shirt cross into the camera's view and he grins. Perfect. Henry's right on time. The cat is sitting on top of his briefcase---a shiny silver beauty that had once belonged to Burton Guster. So much nicer than his old one, it now contained all the tools he'd need to make this party truly spectacular. He shoos the cat away and opens up the case, laying the syringe on the desk, wincing as the oven timer goes off downstairs---he'd forgotten the smugly-ironic pineapple upside-down cake baking in the oven. He makes one last adjustment to the bulletproof vest beneath his dress shirt and picks up the syringe. Mr. Yin grins. What better way to celebrate the first anniversary of Shawn Spencer's death than to kill the kid’s father?