Michael pulled up to the gate for the car show.
"Nice car. Entering her?"
"Nah, not today. I'm just here to check things out."
"Well, then. Welcome to our annual car show/charity fundraiser. Car show only or car show plus award dinner?
"Car show only."
"That'll be $10, then. And you can always buy a ticket to the award dinner later. It's not until the end of the week."
Michael paid, was given the event brochure, and then drove in. He looked around for a parking space, preferably one in the shade. Mostly for Kitt's benefit.
"Michael?"
"Hmm?" he replied, a bit distracted as he considered the available options.
"Why did that man refer to me as 'her'? I have no real gender, though you, Devon, and Bonnie all refer to me as a male."
"Vehicles – cars, ships, planes – are always considered female. And no, I don't know why."
Michael found a spot he liked and parked. He looked over the brochure and found where Ross Osborne was set up.
"Right. Off to work. Keep an eye on things while I'm gone."
As he got out of the car, a good-looking blonde with short hair was eying him.
"Can I help you?"
"You've got a '73 Trans-Am, and you aren't entering the car show?"
"Nope. I already know I have the best car." Michael grinned.
The woman grinned back. "Erika Courtney. And Ross Osborne would make it a challenge. He usually wins these events."
"Michael Knight. Guess I'll have to check out Ross Osborne and his car."
"Well, I hope to see you – and your Trans Am – around."
And with that, Erika got into her car, which was parked next to Kitt. She drove off. Michael wandered around the car show, looking at several cars on his way to Ross Osborne. Eventually, he arrived at the spot. A man about Michael's age, maybe a bit older, was standing there, next to a 1970 Dodge Challenger.
"So, what do you think?" asked the man as Michael contemplated the car.
"Nice, very nice. Mind if I look under the hood?"
"Be my guest."
Osborne popped the hood so Michael could look in. He was impressed.
"I do my own work," said Osborne proudly.
Michael looked around. No one else was within earshot. But he didn't want to take chances. So he pointed at the engine compartment.
"I'm Michael Knight, from the Foundation. Devon Miles asked me to drop by and see you."
Osborne's eyes widened, and then he moved closer. "Ross Osborne. Nice to meet you."
The two men huddled over the Challenger's engine, pretending to discuss the car and the work Ross had done.
"So, you have a concern about Summit Construction?"
"Yeah. Summit is very new, barely a year old. And is winning nearly every contract. I'm the county engineer. That means I come up with the cost estimates for our RFBs. Requests for bids. Summit is consistently under that amount."
"But if they're the lowest bidder –"
"They're a new company without a track record. So how does Tommy Groves even know what to bid? And given his history of –"
"Sowing wild oats, according to Devon. But a wild past isn't much to go on."
"I know. And we've all done things we shouldn't have. But Tommy's father has always bailed him out. So it's not like he's ever learned from his mistakes."
"And because of his father, you don't want to ask for a formal investigation by the county. Or look into this too deeply yourself."
Plus . . . well . . . if Tommy has finally grown up, I don't want to mess that up for him. But my gut says there's a problem."
"I'll see what I can find. Even if it's nothing."
"I just want to know the roads we're paying for won't need to be redone in a couple of years because of shoddy work."
"Suggestions of where to start?"
"How much do you know about roads?"
"I drive on them."
"So not much." Osborne thought for a moment. "Are you okay with hard work?"
"Not my favorite thing. But I can do it."
"Not anyone's favorite. Siddall and Family is a road construction business, been around for a couple of generations. They've got a road construction contract, one of the few Summit didn't get. I know they're hiring day laborers. You'll learn the right way from them."
"Then," said Michael as he stood up and shook Osborne's hand, "I'll be in touch."