Captain Gregg appeared inside the house, next to Carolyn. She was just wrapping up her call.

"That's fine, Candy. I do appreciate it." She hung up and turned to Captain Gregg. "Candy did call the Foundation for help. Apparently, the Foundation helped a friend of theirs, and Neil insisted she call them."

"Hmm. Neil doesn't trust that I can handle it?" Captain Gregg was clearly displeased at the slight.

"Not at all, Captain. He just thought that, well, outsiders should handle outsiders. And Candy agreed with him, which is why she called the Foundation. The Foundation person she spoke with told her they were sending a man named Michael Knight."

"Based on their conversation, Mrs. Muir, this Michael Knight and his partner –"

"Oh, there's two of them?"

"He was talking to a Christopher, who must be in the car. I believe they are who they claim to be."

"Then let's invite them in. And see what they have to say."

Carolyn went outside and walked down the path to where the car was parked.

"Candy confirms she called the Foundation. Would you two care to come inside now?"

"Two?"

"You and your partner, Christopher."

Michael looked confused for a moment, then grinned. "Oh, you mean Kitt. No, Kitt has to stay out here. He'd never fit through the door."

"Oh, come now. He can't be that big."

"Actually, he is. Right, pal?" he asked with a laugh.

"Michael, your sense of humor is, as always, questionable at best." The top of the car folded down, turning the car into a T-top and revealing it to be empty except for a very unusual dashboard. "Hello, Mrs. Muir. I am the Knight Industries 2000. Kitt, for short."

Carolyn was amazed. "A talking car?"

"Technically," was the reply, "I am an advanced microprocessor developed by Wilton Knight. I have merely been placed in this vehicle as a means of locomotion."

Michael held up his wrist. "I have this commlink, which Kitt can use to listen in on our conversation."

"Nonsense. It is such a lovely day, we'll sit outside. If you wouldn't mind moving a couple of chairs off the porch, Michael, while I get us some lemonade."

"Thank you, Mrs. Muir," said Kitt. "You are most gracious."

Captain Gregg appeared next to her. "You always are, Mrs. Muir."

Kitt's red light oscillated but he said nothing. Captain Gregg remained outside, watching the man and the car. Michael carried two chairs from the porch to near where Kitt was parked. He had only just finished when Carolyn came out with two glasses of lemonade.

As they were sitting down, Michael said, "Mrs. Muir, all I know is that a company called Wondergate wants to build a golf resort here on the coast of Maine. They want this spot for the clubhouse, and they don't like hearing no."

"This is my home," said Carolyn firmly as she looked around. "After my husband died, I left Philly and moved here with my two young children – Candy and Jonathan – and our housekeeper, Martha. That was in 1968. I have been here ever since."

"I know Candy has moved out and I assume gotten married, since her last name is Linton. What about your son, Jonathan?"

"Yes, Candy has been married for not quite a year now. Jonathan is in the US Navy, currently out at sea."

"And you own the house?"

"Gull Cottage. Yes, though only recently. You see, I was renting it from Claymore Gregg."

"That malingering bilge-blister," said Captain Gregg.

Carolyn murmured just loud enough for him to hear. "No speaking ill of the dead." Then louder, so Michael could hear her. "He died about a month ago. And it turns out he had left Gull Cottage to me in his will."

Michael straightened up in his seat. "Died, eh? Had he been ill for a long time?"

"No, it was all quite sudden, actually. Why?"

Michael was quiet, clearing thinking over what he wanted to say, and then he sighed. "The men that own Wondergate have an unsavory reputation."

"But Claymore died of natural causes."

"These guys loan money to people who then fall ill or become injured and can't repay the loan, which allows them to step in and take the property. One of my first cases with the Foundation was investigating an associate of these guys who was behind an accident that left a man with a broken leg. All so he could bulldoze the man's business because the land it sits on was valuable."

Carolyn gasped. Captain Gregg grew angry, and the storm clouds rolled back in again.

"Hey, Kitt? I though you said it was gonna be a sunny day today."

"Oh," said Carolyn, "here on the coast, we sometimes get these little storms. They usually blow over quickly."

Captain Gregg calmed himself with great effort, and the weather again improved.

"You used the current tense. Does that mean the business is still standing?"

Michael grinned at her. "Yup. Kitt here and I got the evidence we needed to put the guy behind bars. Though we never were able to prove the other two men – the ones now running Wondergate – were involved."

"Did you take this – I believe the word you used was 'case' – to get these men?"

"Mrs. Muir," replied Michael in a very serious tone. "I have three priorities here: keep you safe, keep your home safe, and put these men behind bars. And that's the order of importance to me."

Captain Gregg nodded approvingly. He was beginning to like this Michael Knight from the Foundation. That infernal machine with its red light moving back and forth, that was another matter entirely.

"Almost before poor Claymore was buried, they were asking me if I wanted to sell. They made a very generous offer."

"Have they threatened you?" Michael was concerned.

"No, not directly. They did suggest that, as a widow whose children have grown and moved out, I don't really need a house this big."

"Hmm. So they are . . . encouraging you to relocate."

"Yes. But I didn't like their tone, which is why I told Candy about it."

"And why she called us in."

"So what next?"

"I'm gonna poke around a bit, see what I can find. I'll need a cover story . . ."

"Oh, I can help with that. You see, I'm a writer. Hmm." She began thinking over possibilities.

"Ask him if he has any military experience."

"Umm?" Captain Gregg waved her on. "Do you have any military experience, Mr. Knight?"

"Just Michael is fine. I was in the Army for a bit. Why?"

"Too bad no naval experience. He can't pretend to be a shipmate of Jonathan's," said Captain Gregg.

"I thought I was the writer here," Carolyn murmured.

"What was that?"

"Like I said earlier, my son, Jonathan, is in the Navy."

Michael nodded his understanding. "Well, I can certainly pretend to have served with Jonathan, Mrs. Muir."

"Are you old enough to vote, Michael?"

"Well, um, yes . . ."

"Then you are old enough to call me Carolyn."

"Ah, but a friend of your son's wouldn't do that, now would he?" asked Michael with a grin.

Captain Gregg laughed out loud at that, waggling his finger at Carolyn. She just shook her head.

Michael drained his glass and put the chairs back on the porch. He then got into the car and drove off. Carolyn and Captain Gregg watched them head back down to Schooner Bay.

"I believe I shall go to town. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Keep an eye on him, Captain," said Carolyn as he disappeared.

"Of course, Mrs. Muir," came the disembodied reply.