Michael whistled cheerfully as he came down the stairs the next morning. He went into the kitchen, where Carolyn was making toast and coffee.

"Good morning, Michael. Did you sleep well?"

"Good morning, Mrs. Muir. Yes, thank you."

"Oh, I do wish you'd call me Carolyn."

"Maybe we could compromise."

"Clearly, Madame, he has no experience with females," said Captain Gregg as he appeared.

Carolyn's mouth twitched as she murmured, "Oh, I very much doubt that."

"Did you say something?" asked Michael, looking up from his toast.

"What do you have planned for today?"

Michael cheerfully replied, "Making myself a target."

"What?!" Carolyn was aghast.

"Mrs. Muir, these men have been planning a resort here for a few years. They were patient, not wanting to get into a bidding war for the land they need. They thought they had the final piece when Claymore Gregg died. To get what they want, they need to pressure you. Or move to more hardball tactics. Now, it's pretty easy to frighten a widow who's all alone. But now I'm here. I just need to let them know that they have to go through me to get to you."

"But –"

Michael shrugged. "It's my job, Mrs. Muir."

"What . . . how . . . I mean . . ."

"I'm going to the county seat, to see what they have on file about Wondergate. And maybe talk to some of the folks who have already sold their land to Wondergate. All in the name of making sure my shipmate Jonathan's mom doesn't lose her home."

Carolyn nodded reluctantly. "And these men will find out you're in the picture."

"And then seek to remove him from said picture," stated Captain Gregg. "I shall keep an eye on him for you, Mrs. Muir."

Carolyn and Michael finished their breakfast. Carolyn then walked Michael to the front door.

"Michael? Please be careful."

"Of course. Wouldn't want to miss Martha's famous Yankee pot roast, after all. Or her pies."

Carolyn stood at the door watching as Michael went out. Partway down the path, he paused, then turned back. He walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek.

"Stay safe, Mrs. M."

He left, whistling cheerfully.

As soon as he was in Kitt, he asked, "Any sign of that anomalous reading this morning?"

"No. And that worries me."

"Oh?"

"Intermittent problems are hard to diagnose. What if April doesn't find anything?"

"Speaking of which, where is the Home Office?"

"The streets of Schooner Bay are too narrow for the semi, as is the road leading to Gull Cottage."

"I did notice that, yes."

"Therefore, they have found a place about a half-hour drive from here. Devon had the Home Office start about the same time we did. He and April flew out from Chicago after the Board meeting was over. They should be there soon, and they might even already been there."

"You want to drop by. See what April can figure out?"

Kitt paused to consider, then said, "No, not yet. I would like to collect some more data points."

"Your call, pal. So, I guess we're off to the county seat."

They drove for a bit, Michael listening to the radio and drumming on the yoke. Captain Gregg appeared in the passenger seat, frowning at the music. Kitt sensed him but said nothing to Michael. He just added another entry to his log. Michael, for his part, felt something unusual but also said nothing.

"Michael? May I ask a question?"

"You just asked two, pal."

"Oh, very funny."

"Sure, go ahead."

"Your farewell to Mrs. Muir this morning . . ."

"Not really a question. But I get what you're asking." Michael thought a moment, then sighed. "She reminds me of my mother. Not in looks but in attitude. I . . . kind of miss that."

"Your mother passed away a number of years ago, I believe."

"After I got back from Vietnam but before I made detective with the LAPD."

Captain Gregg was startled by the news that this young man's Army experience had been in Vietnam. And that he had also been a police officer. Michael didn't seem old enough for either, much less both. He regarded Michael thoughtfully.

"I just . . . well . . . If it were my mother facing off against Wondergate and I couldn't be there, I'd want someone watching over her for me."

"Up against Wondergate, Mrs. Muir is outmatched."

Michael replied thoughtfully, "Outgunned, yes. But I doubt Mrs. M is ever outmatched, Kitt."

Captain Gregg nodded in agreement.