Guardian Knight

Chapter 4

Michael glanced down at Melissa. Even without her crooked hip, her head didn't even reach his shoulders. He deliberately slowed his pace to match hers.

"Let me know if we need to slow down."

"So far, so good. Though it depends on how long of a walk it is."

"Not much further," he assured her, as they exited the building and crossed the parking lot.

Michael grinned to himself as they approached the garage. "Open sesame," he intoned solemnly.

And his partner came through with flying colors. The garage door rose, revealing the black Trans-Am with its red sensor light moving hypnotically from left to right and back. As they entered, the garage door closed behind them.

"Kitt, allow me to present my ward, Melissa Alexandra Knight."

"It is a pleasure, Miss Knight."

Melissa breathed in awe. "You're the Knight Industries 2000. Dad told me about you. But I never imagined you'd look like this."

Kitt opened the passenger door for her, and Michael walked her over. He always enjoyed seeing people's reactions to his partner. Melissa had one of the broadest smiles he had seen.

After getting her settled, he went around to his side and got in. Kitt shut both doors. Michael held up his wrist with the commlink. "Kitt can listen in on my conversations. So he heard you when you introduced yourself. But I still thought you should meet him in person."

"I quite agree," said Kitt. "And let me assure you, Miss Knight, that I will ensure that Michael remembers all important events."

"Thanks, partner," said Michael dryly.

Melissa looked down at her lap. "Michael, are you okay with . . . um . . . being . . ."

"Being your guardian? I wouldn't have told Devon you were my ward if I wasn't. Though if I had read that letter when I first got it, I probably wouldn't have."

"All the will says is that you are my legal guardian. I could see him deciding that and changing the will. But I would have thought he would say something to me. And to you. And to Uncle Devon, of course."

"The letter from him said he thought we would both benefit."

"The letter from him?"

"Yes. The letter from the lawyers was actually a letter from Wilton to me."

"Ah," she said softly. "Dad probably thought he had more time than he did. Time to, well, tell us what he had planned and why."

Kitt said, "Mr. Knight was likely expressing his trust in Michael, and telling both Devon and you, Miss Knight, to trust Michael, too."

"That does sound like Dad."

"And you?" Michael asked. "I never asked what you wanted. Are you okay having me as your guardian instead of Devon? Since I look like Garthe . . ."

Michael was still bothered Wilton's decision to remake him in Garthe's image. He understood that Tanya's bullet ricocheted off the metal plate in his head, destroying his face. He understood that it was safer for him to have a new face rather than his old one. And he understood that it was easier for the surgeon to have a photo to work from. But to give him another man's face . . .

Melissa shook her head emphatically. "No, you don't. Well, of course you do. But . . . Kitt, do you have any photos of Dad?"

"Is there a particular photo you have in mind, Miss Knight?"

"The one of Dad and Uncle Devon, from when Uncle Devon first came to California. If you have that one." She explained while still looking down at her lap. "They met in a pub in England, during World War II. They just clicked. Dad told Uncle Devon he would hire him, after the war. Uncle Devon thought he was kidding. And then he got an envelope with a one-way ticket to California and note telling him he had to come to California to get the other half."

"And did he ever get the other half?"

"Yes. He has it framed, along with the photo I asked Kitt to find."

"I believe, Miss Knight, that this is the photo you requested."

Kitt displayed a photo on his monitor of two men. They had their arms on each other's shoulders and were smiling. The taller man, who looked to be younger than Michael, was Devon. The shorter man, who was about Michael's age, was Wilton. Michael had never seen a photo of Wilton Knight as a young man. He – and Garthe – looked like Wilton, though taller.

"Besides, even if you look like Garthe, you don't act like him at all. Garthe needs to be the center of attention, to dominate. You, well, you . . . you just have a different . . . presence." Melissa struggled to find the words, and Michael wisely gave her the space she needed. "Garthe ignores me, most of the time. When he doesn't . . . the best I can hope for is icy contempt. The worst . . . is so much worse." The last four words came out as a whisper Michael could only just hear.

"That makes sense," said Michael gently.

"Garthe has never once given me a present. Not even one Dad or my mother bought and put his name on." Melissa finally looked up at Michael, with a shy smile. "You bought me a present just because within hours of meeting me."

"See, Kitt, I told you that umbrella stand was perfect."

"Perfectly hideous," was the tart rejoinder.

"Right then. Sounds like the three of us are willing to give this a try. Now, I don't spend a lot of time here at FLAG. If you need me, Devon can always – well, usually – get in touch with me. And in an emergency, you can call Kitt from that console over there." Michael pointed it out to Melissa, who nodded her understanding.

"Michael, you are supposed to meet Lisa and Timmy for dinner soon. And Miss Knight, my sensors indicate inflammation in your left hip. Perhaps we should drive you to your room."

Melissa gave a slight smile. "For future reference, Kitt, I would rate the pain as a 4 out of 10. However, I won't refuse a ride. I want to see how this car drives."

"Michael, if I may do the honors?" asked Kitt, as he raised the garage door.

Michael made a show of lifting his hands up and away from the steering wheel. He was gratified by Melissa's surprise and then delight as Kitt drove them out of the garage and along the backside of the building towards the residential wing.

One of the groundskeepers was up ahead. Melissa leaned forward and then asked if they could stop. Michael noted approvingly that she asked Kitt, not him. Kitt obliged and even rolled down Melissa's window without prompting.

"Good evening, Elliott."

"Good evening, Miss Knight. Something I can help you with?"

"We've a guest staying here with her 6-year-old son. Your two boys are about that age, right?"

"Yes, they're 5 and 8."

Melissa nodded. "Perfect. I'm sure the boy – his name is Timmy – would be happier with some kids his own age to play with. Could you bring your boys here tomorrow? And then watch all three?"

"Of course, Miss Knight."

"I'll clear it with the head groundskeeper. Oh, and remember to bring bathing suits."

"Will do. And thank you, Miss Knight."

She gently corrected him. "Thank you, Elliott. The flower beds can be mulched another day. I'll let Mr. C know shortly. Have a nice night."

Kitt rolled up the window and drove off. Michael looked at Melissa with bemusement.

"Elliott is a family man, loves his sons and spends as much time with them as he can. And with Timmy out of the way, Lisa has less of an excuse to avoid your questions."

"Do you know all the FLAG employees?"

"No, just those that were here at the estate when Dad was alive. He always said they were people first and our employees second. So no matter what position they have, learn at least one thing about them." She then added, almost under her breath, "Garthe just sees them as tools. If he sees them at all."

Kitt pulled up alongside a door. "I believe, Miss Knight, that this door is closest to your room."

"Yes, it is. And thank you for the ride, Kitt. Hopefully, we can go on a longer drive sometime. I'd love to see what you can really do."

Melissa got out. Michael watched thoughtfully as she went inside.

"Do you regret agreeing to be her legal guardian?"

"Not at all. Thought it seems a bit cavalier of the old man."

"You know, Michael, there is another reason for Wilton Knight to have made you his daughter's guardian."

"Oh?"

"To give you a family, so you have a reason to come back alive."

Michael squirmed a bit at that. He knew Kitt had been upset about his disregard for his injuries on their first assignment together. He also knew Kitt never forgot anything.

"Now, what concerns you?"

Michael shook his head sadly. "He must have made her life a living hell."

"I assume you mean the late and very much unlamented Garthe Knight."

"She refers to him in the present tense."

"I had noticed. Would you like me to see what I can learn about their interactions?"

"No," said Michael decisively.

"Are you quite sure? It wouldn't be any trouble."

"I only just met her today. I'd like a chance to talk with her first. Depending on what she says, I may ask you. Or Devon. And now, dinner with Lisa and Timmy."

"I suspect thatmystery will take a little longer for you to solve."