The bedroom door opened, and Mary Scott stepped out, closing it carefully behind her. "Candy's got her favorite movie going," she said as she came across to the dining room table to join Michael and Bonnie. "Hopefully that will keep her occupied for a bit."

Michael jumped into the so-far-taboo subject with both feet. "Who would have cut the brake lines on your Jeep?"

She sighed and dropped into a chair, looking suddenly as small as she was. She had obviously been trying to keep up a front for Candy, as had all of them. This topic was rated far above those approved for six-year-olds. "It's a long story."

"We have time," Michael replied easily. Bonnie fleetingly thought not only of her reunion starting Monday but of his own mission waiting for him. Devon wouldn't take it well if Michael were late. On the other hand, she was as concerned as Michael was. Neither of them had missed the fact that Mary's answer to his question was obviously not "I have no idea."

"Just start at the beginning," Bonnie urged soothingly.

Mary looked toward the kitchen. This was a fairly nice house, especially for just a mother and child; Bonnie had already been trying to match it up with a Jeep that had badly needed tires even before the greater need of brake fluid had hit. "Would you like a cup of hot tea?" the little woman asked. "It'll be time to eat in a little bit. I could cook us all something."

Bonnie started to reassure her that that wasn't necessary, but Michael cut her off. "We'll take a pass on the meal, but we'd love a cup of hot tea."

Mary pushed the chair back from the table, getting up briskly. "I'll be right back."

Michael caught Bonnie's dubious look as Mary left the room. "She needs it herself," he said softly. "Besides, she'll feel better talking to us after she does something for us, even if it's just making a cup of tea."

"I know," Bonnie said. "I was just wondering the last time you had a cup of hot tea. Somehow, that doesn't seem like your style."

"Actually, I kind of like it," he shot back. His tone went wistful. "Mom used to make us each a cup, and we'd sit around the table in the mornings before school and just talk."

Bonnie was surprised, and he took it incorrectly as disbelief. "That's true. Ask KITT; I've mentioned it to him before."

"I wasn't doubting you. Just surprised, that's all." She dropped her voice a little further. "Michael, I agree there's something going on here, but don't forget we're on a schedule."

"I know. Don't worry; you won't miss your reunion."

"I was actually thinking more of your next assignment. This is a recreational trip for me; it isn't for you."

"Neither one of us is due there before Monday," he shot back. "This is Friday evening, and we've made pretty good time so far. About 600 miles to go for you, 700 for me. We can wedge in a day or two here to check things out. As long as we leave by Sunday evening at the latest, KITT can drive through the night to make up time. We'll just sleep in the car. He's a pretty good motel room."

Just then, Mary returned with a tray and three steaming cups. She passed the cups around, offered sugar (Bonnie declined; Michael, as she anticipated, took quite a bit), and then took a deep breath. "My husband died in a car accident three months ago," she started.

"I'm so sorry," Bonnie murmured.

"But -" Mary looked around. "It didn't make sense. You may call me crazy, but I know something was wrong with that accident." She looked from one to the other, then went on, reassured that neither of her audience was calling her crazy yet. "The police said that he had been drinking and driving. And his blood alcohol level was way high. But he never got drunk. Not once in the ten years we were married. He'd have a beer here and there just socially; that was all. I just can't believe it."

"Did your husband have any enemies?" Michael asked.

"Until three months ago, I would have said no. Everybody liked him. He was never the life of the party type, but he was totally honest and reliable. The people at his company have even tried to help me with the life insurance - the insurance company is stalling on paying that because of the DUI."

"What was his job?"

"He was head of security at Computech. That's the biggest company in town. They make computer parts." Michael and Bonnie looked at each other, filling in various possibilities for illicit activities related to a company that made computer parts. "We've been trying to fight for the life insurance, but meanwhile, I had to sell my car and downgrade to an older Jeep just to get something to help out with expenses. His car was totaled in the accident, of course."

"Did you have a job yourself, or did you stay at home with Candy?" Bonnie asked.

"I didn't really have a job before, but -" Mary buried her face in her hands, and Bonnie slid her chair over to put an arm around her. "I'm an artist," Mary said after a minute. "I paint. And I always hoped, dreamed, that someday people would actually want to buy it. Rick always encouraged me on that, said that I'd wind up being famous. Not that I wanted to be famous; I just wanted to - to give something to the world. Something that would help people, maybe cheer them up. But I haven't really been able to paint since the accident. I just keep going over things in my mind, trying to work it out. Then last week, there was a job that came open at the local bar part-time, and I applied for that. I thought -" She trailed off.

Michael filled in the blank. "You thought you'd snoop around on the side and maybe find out more about the night that your husband was allegedly drinking before he got killed."

"Exactly," she said. "I was trying to be subtle. At least I thought I was. But then today -" She shivered in memory. "You said that brake line was actually cut. It didn't just fail. They could have killed Candy. They didn't even care about a six-year-old girl! Who would do things like that? What's going on?"

"I don't know," Michael said, "but I promise you, I'll help you find out." He reached across the table, and she took his hand and squeezed it.

(KR)

Michael and Bonnie walked toward the lobby of the local motel. Just as they approached the door, a man standing outside lit up a cigarette, and oddly, Michael seemed to flinch. He recovered so quickly that Bonnie wondered if she had imagined it. They entered the lobby. "We'd like two rooms, hopefully next to each other," he said.

The bored-looking young woman behind the desk reluctantly put away her magazine and looked up, then came to life, studying Michael. "Well, sure, cowboy. Two rooms, you said?"

"That's right." Michael pulled out his Foundation credit card.

"You're a stranger in town. Going to be here long?"

"Not really. Couple of days, maybe. We're just passing through." She took the credit card and ran it. "You don't see a lot of strangers in town?" Michael asked.

"Not too many." She returned the card and took out two room keys. "18 and 19. Right down there to the left."

"Thank you," Michael said, rewarding her with a smile. He turned and left, and Bonnie followed, wondering if that clerk could have described her at all. She had only been looking at Michael the whole time.

They found the two rooms, and Michael extended both keys. "Here, your choice. That will help satisfy your control issues."

"I don't have control issues," Bonnie snarled. She snatched key 18 from him, and Michael annoyed her by not even being ruffled at her comment. With a smile, he punched the button on his watch.

"Come over here, KITT," he said. The black car unparked himself from in front of the office and drove down the row, slipping into a spot right in front of them. "Thanks, pal. Pop the trunk." KITT obeyed, and they retrieved their luggage. "After we get settled in, I'm going to go down to the local bar and nose around a little," Michael said. "First, though, we have one unpleasant chore to take care of."

"Calling Devon," Bonnie filled in easily.

"Right." He sighed, then set his duffle bag down on the pavement and got in. "Might as well get it over with. Would you tell him, Bonnie? He won't believe me that we just fell into this."

Bonnie smiled herself at his reluctance. "Michael, you really did just fall into things this time. He'll believe you when it's a true story."

"How would you know?" he demanded. "You're usually on the other end disbelieving me right along with him."

"But that's when -" Bonnie skidded to a verbal halt, starting to think through that.

"Exactly. You don't have all the details those times, just like Devon doesn't now, but you still don't believe me when I call. KITT, tell her how often this happens to us."

"Remarkably regularly, Bonnie," KITT replied. "It defies all odds. Michael does somehow seem to be a magnet for people in distress, which I have never managed to satisfactorily explain, but it is quite common for us to encounter new cases and new assignments while his actions were perfectly innocent."

"Thanks, buddy." Michael gave KITT's wheel a pat. "Okay, call Devon."

The screen lit up after a few moments. "Michael. Good evening. How is your trip going with Bonnie?"

"Fine so far, but, um, Bonnie has something to tell you."

Devon's expression changed with lightning speed. "You got sidetracked, as you so frequently put it. May I remind you, Michael, that you have a mission waiting? I was hoping that Bonnie would ensure that the trip went without complications."

Bonnie chimed in. "Devon, this really wasn't his fault."

"It never is," their boss stated.

"We were minding our own business, and we just ran into something," Bonnie assured him.

"Which I'm sure involves a pretty woman," Devon added.

Michael was starting to get a little annoyed. "She is a very pretty widow with a six-year-old daughter, and her husband was just killed in an accident three months ago. And somebody tried to kill her and her daughter today. Would have succeeded if it hadn't been for KITT."

"That's true, Devon," Bonnie said. "Somebody did try to kill them, and KITT and Michael saved them. But something is going on, and her husband's accident doesn't sound right, either. Michael is going to look into things for a day or two and see if he can work it out."

"May I remind you of the case waiting for you Monday, not to mention Bonnie's reunion?"

"We can make it," Michael said. "As long as we leave here by Sunday evening at the latest, KITT can drive all night and still get us there Monday."

"Well, as usual, you've made up your mind, and nothing I say could dissuade you. Please try not to inflict too much damage on the town where you are. Are you enjoying the trip, Bonnie?"

Bonnie replayed this last day. "It's not too bad so far, at least up until the point when two people nearly got killed."

"Good. Well, keep me posted." The screen went blank.

Michael sighed, leaning back into his seat. "I hate these calls with him," he muttered under his breath. "Well, at least that's over. Let's get settled in, and then KITT and I are going to start some discreet snooping." He caught her expression. "See, I do actually know the word discreet."

"You know its meaning, at least," KITT put in. "You rarely apply it, but -"

"KITT?" Michael interrupted.

"Yes, Michael. I know."

"Shut up."