They had breakfast at a local diner, and as they were heading back across the parking lot and had just reached KITT, a police car pulled into a blank slot several spaces down, and the officer slowly got out, his eyes zoning in on Michael immediately. Michael sighed. "Great," he mumbled under his breath. "I was just thinking this morning that at least the police hadn't questioned me yet."
"Yet?" Bonnie looked from him to the squad car. "Does that happen a lot, too?"
KITT replied. "My percentage calculator indicates that the local police are suspicious of Michael at some point on 56% of our assignments. He is actually arrested on -"
"KITT," Michael growled.
"I know," the car replied meekly.
"Shut up."
The policeman sauntered over to them, trying to look authoritative. "Wonder which movie he's imitating?" Michael whispered to Bonnie, and she fought to hide her laugh.
"Knight. I'm Sheriff Benson." The man stopped square in front of Michael, ignoring Bonnie. He squared his shoulders and then realized obviously that trying to look Michael eye to eye was difficult due to being about six inches shorter. He probably weighed more, but the distribution of it was quite off; the sheriff had a middle-aged paunch fighting to escape from the influence of his belt.
"Good to meet you, Sheriff," Michael replied pleasantly.
"What exactly are you doing in this town?" the sheriff demanded.
"Just passing through," Michael said.
The sheriff shook his head. "I've looked you up, Knight. Up until several months ago, you didn't even exist. You've still got an almost blank slate on any police database."
"Is not committing any crimes a crime?" Michael asked.
"No, but plenty else is. And those databases have a lot more in them than criminal record. The average citizen has a page ten times as long as yours." The sheriff pulled himself up to his full height, such as it was. "Listen, Knight. Whatever you're up to in this town, just be aware that I'm watching you. And I know you've been asking some questions. You're good at hiding what you're after, but I'm good at sniffing it out. And I'm telling you, I worked Rick Scott's accident myself. Open and shut case. He was driving drunk; he was three times over the limit."
"And was that typical for him?" Michael asked.
For the first time, the awareness of the image faded. That question wasn't on the prepared script. "No, actually, it wasn't. I'd never seen him drunk before. But anybody can have a first time, and blood tests don't lie." The sheriff recollected himself and returned to his prepared speech. "Just know that I'm watching you. And I'd strongly suggest that you head on out of town. There's nothing to see here." Rehearsed warning delivered, he turned on his heel and marched back to his car.
Bonnie walked around KITT as Michael got into the driver's seat. "I wonder if he even saw me," she said. Being dismissed as inconsequential bothered her on one level.
Michael smiled at her. "You're a great member of the team, Bonnie. But out here, this isn't your field. He recognized that even without thinking about it. It isn't that he thinks you aren't a person, but he didn't need to warn you."
She started to get annoyed all over again at Michael, not at the sheriff, for also classifying her in a corner instead of on the main playing field at the moment, but then she paused, reviewing the last few days. The runaway Jeep and Michael walking out across KITT's hood to it. The two men trying to shoot him yesterday. The sprained ankle that he hid so routinely with such practiced skill that she wondered now just how often he had to conceal injuries. Even the information scouting in the bar last night, where he had fit right in and she had stuck out like a sore thumb.
No, this wasn't her field. She was as out of place doing this as he would have been adjusting KITT's microprocessors. If the sheriff silently and Michael flat out recognized that, they were only seeing the truth.
Michael started KITT and backed out of the parking space. "We'll head to Mary's first, then on to Computech. Sunday's probably a good day to break in."
Bonnie jumped. "Michael!"
He grinned. "Would you prefer me to call it information gathering? Whatever is at the center of this is there. I've got suspicions who is involved at this point, but we're going to have to get some hard proof of a crime in process to be able to go after them legally."
"Do you think the sheriff is involved, Michael?" KITT asked.
"No, I don't. He's not the sharpest crayon in the box, but he's basically honest."
Bonnie shook her head. "How can you classify people as honest or not in just a minute like that? Most people are a mix."
"In small things, most people are a mix. In large things, people are basically honest or not, Bonnie, and a lot of times, a minute is all you get to decide who you're going to trust. Life doesn't stop for a thorough computer scan to help you make your decisions."
Feeling again like she ought to be slighted at that statement, she was silent on the rest of the short drive. Michael pulled into Mary's driveway, and they got out. He waited for her to round the car, and they walked up the path to the door together, where he rang the doorbell, then stood back to wait.
Nothing. Mary didn't come to the door. All at once, Michael was fully alert. "Something's wrong," he said.
"It hasn't been long; maybe she's in the bathroom," Bonnie suggested, but she was looking around now. She was starting to trust his instincts more.
Michael shook his head. "Something's wrong." He reached forward to the doorknob, then paused. "Go back to KITT, Bonnie." She started to protest, then remembered her promise and turned slowly, reluctantly away. "KITT, scan the house." He started to turn the knob.
"Michael, get out of there!" KITT's voice was urgent. Michael spun around and tackled Bonnie, who was still only a few feet into her retreat, knocking her flat to the ground as a shot split the air above them. They lay still momentarily, then Michael rolled off of her.
"Is there anything else, KITT?"
"No, Michael. Just the one gun set up to blast the porch when the knob was turned."
Michael sat up, regained his feet, and held out a hand to Bonnie. "Are you all right?"
"I think so," she said. She felt shaken up to her core. The blast of that shot, directly over them. She could practically still hear it.
Michael pulled her to her feet and gave her hand a squeeze. "It's okay, Bonnie. If you hear the shot, it didn't kill you. Now, go back to KITT." Without protest and with a good bit more momentum than the first time, she retreated to the car and tucked herself into the passenger's seat.
He returned to the house, and Bonnie saw the lights on KITT's dash; the car had put himself into surveillance mode and was scanning intently, tracking his partner. "I apologize, Bonnie," KITT said. "I should have realized the presence of the booby trap earlier."
She gave the dash a pat. "You still saved us, KITT." KITT and Michael together.
Michael exited the house, moving quickly now on his long legs, sprained ankle or not. He got into the driver's seat and handed her a note silently. Bonnie read it.
"Knight: If you ever want to see the woman and the kid again, you only have until 2:00 p.m. The trap is set up to go off then, and they will be killed. Good luck hunting. You'll need it."