Chapter 3
Michael had noticed something about Carlee the moment he'd opened the door. Oh, sure, she was something to look at, but there was more to it than that. Something he didn't usually attribute to women. She was fierce. This was no damsel in distress. She stood five foot seven, slim, but not skinny. Her short dark hair glinted in the light and her blue eyes took in everything around her. Her movements were sure and swift.
Suddenly realizing he'd been holding his breath not for the first time since he opened the mansion door and saw her, he released it and drew in another. Being around her made him forget to breath!
The ride to her place was uneventful, and they rode in silence.
Once they reached her place, Michael offered to come in with her, but Carlee insisted she would be fine.
"I was a cop, remember!" she nearly snapped, at one point. The feelings stirring inside her were scaring her into this reaction.
When Carlee had disappeared inside, K.I.T.T. said, "What's wrong, Michael? My life signs monitor indicates your breathing is labored. Are you feeling ill?"
"I'm not sure what's going on, K.I.T.T. I've never reacted this way to a woman before. Some how, though, I don't think the feeling is mutual."
A scream came from the house and Michael was instantly out of the car, running up the walk. K.I.T.T. was scanning the house and relaying information to Michael.
"Carlee is at the back door of the house, Michael. She appears to be alone."
"Thanks, K.I.T.T.," Michael said into his comlink, and headed in the direction K.I.T.T. had given him. "Carlee?" he called out, attempting to keep the panic out of his voice.
"Oh, damn!" Carlee exclaimed, "I'm alright, Michael! The neighbor's dog just came barreling out of no where and startled me."
Michael took a breath to calm his breathing, and looked around. Carlee was standing at the back door of the house, a bag of cat food in hand. The back door lead out of the kitchen to a good sized backyard.
"I kind of care for the local stray cats. Not knowing when I'll be back again, I wanted to leave them at least some food, but with that mutt out there, I can't," Carlee explained, putting the bag back in a plastic container by the door.
Just then, the phone rang. Carlee jumped, looking nervously at the phone.
"Do you want me to get it?" Michael asked gently.
"No! I'll get it!" Carlee snapped, more harshly than she'd intended. She grabbed the phone, nearly shouting, "Who is it!" into the receiver.
At the same time, Michael spoke into his comlink, "K.I.T.T., see if you can get a trace on that call."
For the first time, he spoke. "Carlee! Carlee! Is that any way to talk to an old friend? Who's the new friend with the shiny T-top?"
"Come find out!" Carlee growled back. One part of her mind registered the fact that he must be somewhere close by, or have some way of monitoring what she was doing, since he knew about Michael.
"Oh, don't worry. I will. We've still got some unfinished business, you and I. I'll be in touch!" With that, the phone went dead.
Hand trembling, Carlee found it difficult to get the phone back on its cradle, but finally succeeded.
"Get anything on that call, K.I.T.T.?" Michael asked into his comlink.
"Negative, Michael, the call was too brief."
Carlee momentarily forgot her anxiety and stared at Michael. "Who are you talking to?"
"Come outside, I've got someone I want you to meet," Michael said, gesturing for Carlee to follow.
"Hang on, I might as well grab my suitcase so I don't have to come back in." Carlee quickly walked to her room and grabbed the packed bag from the bed.
She locked up and followed Michael back to the car.
Once in the car, Michael said, "K.I.T.T., say hi to Carlee."
"Hi, Carlee, it's nice to meet you," said a New England accented male voice.
Carlee's mouth dropped open, "What, I mean, who, where!" Carlee couldn't string together a coherent sentence.
"I am the voice of the Knight Industries Two Thousand. K.I.T.T., this car," the voice replied.
"No, way! A talking car!" Carlee exclaimed.
"Pretty much my reaction when I first met him," Michael agreed.