Chapter Five

Searching For Answers

It was dark when Michael left his motel room and drove back to catch up with Maggie. He parked Kitt in the deeper shadows further along from the back door of the disco bar just before nine in the evening.

"Are you sure this is a wise move, Michael?" Kitt asked quietly. "From what you told me about her, this young woman is in deep emotional turmoil. As such, she could be dangerous and unstable."

"She's just mad about being sacked." Michael shrugged. "Right now, Maggie's the only lead I've got. She knows about Tanya and where I can find her."

"That is my biggest concern. How much does that young woman know, and who may she have already told? We need to be on our guard against incursion."

"Stow it, Kitt. I told you, Maggie tipped beer all over me the moment I mentioned Tanya. She hates her as much as I do. So, I don't think she's told anyone. I think she just wants outta there. And I'm gonna help her find her way."

"That is what troubles me the most," Kitt replied darkly. "What form might that help take? And at what detriment you and myself."

"We won't know until we find out," Michael replied as he saw the back door to the bar open.

A very disgruntled-looking young woman exited the building, kicking the door shut behind her with the heel of her shoe. Now sensibly dressed in a white T-shirt and dark blue trousers, she hurried along carrying her clothes on hangers and a large hold-all slung over her shoulder with her handbag.

"Here we go…" Michael put Kitt into gear and cruised up beside Maggie as she headed for an old VW.

"Maggie..." he called softly through his open window as he stopped behind her car.

Maggie spun around and glared at him. "Get lost! I'm warning you…" She put one hand to her hold-all as she backed up. "I've got a purse full of mace and I've got a good mind to use it. I'm sick of men like you who think they own me just because I work in a bar!"

Michael frowned at her obvious state of distress. "Look, I stayed in my car so I wouldn't scare you. What more could I do?"

"Well, ain't you the David Niven," Maggie sneered as she turned her back on him and unlocked her car.

"Actually, my name is Michael Knight. And I'm very pleased to meet you, Maggie." Michael grimaced as he got out of his car. "Look, I'm sorry about what happened in there earlier. But you misunderstood my question. I'm not a friend of Tanya's. I just need to find her."

Maggie turned to glare at him as she threw her things into her car. "Well, who cares? Not me. She and that group of parasites of hers have taken away everything that ever meant anything to me! My… my husband... my job... my house. I can't even afford to buy decent clothes for my kid. I can barely pay my weekly rent!"

Tears stood out on her lashes as she turned back to the open door of her car. She got in and slammed the door shut.

She looked out the open window. "Now please leave me alone. Or I'll put a dent in the middle of that machine of yours and I mean it! I just want to go home!" The defiant set of her shoulders slumped.

Michael shrugged. "If it'll make you feel better, go ahead. But we still need to talk."

"You asked for it!" Maggie shot back.

She started her car and backed up into the door of the Trans Am. All she achieved was the back bumper dropping off her car. She jumped out again and stared down at the damage.

"Geez, I can't even get that right!" she muttered. "How much more can go wrong today?"

"I'll pay to get this fixed for you," Michael said quickly, pointing to the mess. "If you agree to help me. An even trade."

Maggie sighed. "I don't believe it. How can I go on through life with luck this bad? I ploughed into your door and my bumper fell off. There's not so much as a scratch on your car."

She waved a helpless hand. "It's not fair! I'll be pulled over if I drive home with it like that. I can't afford to pay a fine."

"Look, Maggie. Let me help change your luck," Michael insisted earnestly. "I know I can. Just give me a chance to prove it to you."

Maggie sighed in frustration. "Why can't you just leave me alone!" She ran a hand over her hair. "I just lost the last job I'm ever gonna get in this awful town and I still have bills to pay. I can't afford to leave or stay!"

Tears began to track down her pale cheeks as she turned away and leaned on her car in defeat. "My name, by the way, is Maggie Archer. Pleased to meet you." Her expression denied her words.

"I'll just have to go back inside and call a cab." Despite her words, she looked unsure as she looked around in total defeat.

"Please, will you just listen to me?" Michael edged closer. "What if I could help you? What if Tanya and her crew could be run out of Millston and you could get your job back and a great pay rise into the bargain?"

Maggie turned and stared at him. "Don't tell me. You're just about to offer me a silver bullet." She grimaced. "For a price, no doubt. Well, I'm not interested!"

Michael shook his head. "Nope. No strings. Nothing like that. I'm trying to help, that's all. I just want to give you a great chance to get even," he said hardly.

Maggie stared at him. "For what? How much do you know about what's going on around here? As far as I know, you only just showed up today."

Michael nodded. "Not enough. That's why I was hoping you could tell me what I need to know."

Maggie sighed. "To do what and why?"

Michael shook his head. "One step at a time, Maggie. Will you help me?"

She looked doubtful. "Do you really think you can make a difference? I mean, a real difference. People have been suffering since Tanya Walker came to town."

"Yes!" Michael replied vehemently. "Now will you help me?"

She studied him closely. "Maybe…" She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and then said, "All right. I'll give you the rest of the night. But I'm not expecting anything by morning beyond a headache and a bad taste in my mouth."

She lifted her shoulders. "Since my car's out of action, you can drive me home. It's late and I need to see to my boy."

Michael grinned. "Fair enough and I might yet surprise you. Go and get into my car. It'll be faster anyway, and I still have my bumper on. Grab your things and I'll get your clothes."

He bent down and picked up the fallen bumper of her car. He tossed it in through the open window and it fell into the back seat. "I'll take your keys and lock yours up while you get into mine."

"Yes, sir…" Maggie saluted him ironically as she grabbed up her hold-all and handbag before she circled Kitt's hood and climbed into the passenger seat.

Of course, Kitt remained mute as the young woman settled herself with a long sigh of discontent. He ran a series of diagnostics on her and he didn't like what he found.

As he had already attested, Maggie Archer was in a deeply unstable emotional state, and it appeared to be worsening as she frowned through his windscreen at Michael. He worried she was going to lead them both further into the uncharted territory of the deeply illogical feminine mind, with all its perils.

Would that incursion eventually cause Michael to play the knightly hero to Maggie Archer's damsel in distress? Kitt sighed as Michael opened his door and got in. He worried they would soon find out.

※※※※※

Michael drove down a street lined with a colourful assortment of lights from restaurants, motels and nightclubs. There were people everywhere, seemingly intent on enjoying themselves for the rest of the night.

"The town is certainly busy," he observed.

Maggie sighed as she looked around. "Yeah, it's a regular boom town. There's more money flowing through this valley now than there was during the California Gold Rush. But some people are getting just as dirty."

"It looks like it's just one big party," Michael observed. "And all because of those tiny microchips."

"Yeah, every calculator, every electronic kid's game. They were all born right here. But try and find a place to live at a decent price. We've got every con man or dreamer in the world here, trying to sell something to people who don't even care if they get taken. They're that wealthy or that stupid."

Michael glanced at her. "How do you fit into Silicon Valley, then? You seem to hate the place."

"I do…" Maggie shifted in her seat. "My husband came here to accept a job as head of security at Com Tron. It was a great step up for us all. We thought we'd finally cracked it and joined the big time."

"I'm guessing it didn't work out?" Michael replied gently.

Maggie turned to stare at him. "Oh, yes. It worked out just fine. We had three good years. Until the president of the company decided to hire himself a brand-new executive assistant a few months ago."

Her mouth curved downwards. "From what my husband told me, he wasn't asked to do any digging into her past. She just showed up and she was hired."

She turned back to stare through the windscreen at the view. "Turn right, here…"

"By any chance, the name of that new executive wouldn't be Tanya Walker?" Michael queried as he followed her directions and turned a corner.

"You know it is. And you know all there is to know." Maggie grimaced. "She started as a fill-in girl. She got cushy jobs for both of her hatchet-faced henchmen. That Lonnie works for her too. The tall one who was watching you back in the bar. She picked up a few local call girls to do their lower-level stuff for her. It didn't take them long to end up running the whole town and pushing everyone around."

She shook her head. "That Tanya rode that flashy tail of hers all the way to the top. Before she turned up, Com Tron was a relatively happy family. Then she got into the boss's bed, and his business, and started making wholesale changes. No one dares disagree with her now."

She closed her eyes and looked down at her hands clenched together in her lap. "No one seemed able to stop her doing exactly as she pleased."

"So, your husband was fired?" Michael asked.

"Not exactly," Maggie said sharply.

Michael looked at her. "Tell me…"

"He couldn't accept what was going on so he started poking into things…" Her expression was saddened. "And one night, he just didn't come home. I waited and waited, then I rang the cops."

Michael frowned. "Did he disappear?"

"Worse…" Maggie inhaled sharply then shook her head. "Three days later they found him dead in a gulley out in the desert," she replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "They said he'd been drinking and just wandered off and got lost. They said it happens to people who don't know the desert."

She glanced at Michael. "Well, they didn't know my Tony. He didn't drink. Not even beer." She turned back to the night view. "His father had been a falling down drunk, you see. Tony hated seeing that when he was growing up. He swore then that he wasn't going to turn out like his dad. And he didn't want that for our boy."

She shrugged. "But no one believed me when I told them. The cops are all in Tanya's pocket and wouldn't do a thing to help me."

She shook her head. "I know Tanya hates me. But I can't see what sort of a threat I could be to her. I'm nobody."

Michael's hands clenched in the steering wheel. "Maggie, how could they make up stories like that about your husband and make them stick?"

"Witnesses!" Maggie snapped. "Half a dozen truck drivers who hang out in that place where I used to work. All animals who work for Com Tron. Tanya pays them well to do her bidding, no questions asked. I know they spiked his drink and got him liquored up. Then they drove him out into the desert and left him there."

Michael frowned at her. "You wouldn't have taken that dead-end job to find some answers, would you? That's a whole lot of danger, right there."

"I took that job to feed my little boy," Maggie replied solemnly as she nodded to a small, two-storied, apartment building. "This is where I live."

She sighed. "I suppose you'd better come on up. If you want to know more."

Michael pulled to a stop beside the curb. "I want to know everything."

"Well, in that case, you better follow me then. It's late, so we'll need to be quiet. I'll put the coffee on." She opened her door and got out.

She turned back and picked up her hold-all and handbag from the floor of the passenger well. She closed the door behind her.

Kitt's red screen came to life as soon as the door shut. "Are you sure this is wise, Michael? This town seems to have ears and eyes everywhere. It might not be good for the woman's ongoing safety to be seen with us. She could get hurt."

"Thanks for your concern. But it's dark and there's no one around. This is the only way we're going to find out more about Tanya," Michael replied shortly as he got out.

"I will stay here and keep watch anyway," Kitt replied. "You can never be too careful in a town full of thieves and conmen. Not to mention amoral women."

"As long as you do it quietly," Michael replied as he gathered up armfuls of Maggie's things from the back seat.

He shut the door before he followed Maggie across the sidewalk and into the building. They climbed a set of stairs.

An older Mexican woman opened the front door as soon as they arrived. "Oh, Senora, I was so worried." She wrung her hands in agitation. "It's late and I did not know where you were or what you were doing. Your son does not get to sleep for worrying."

"Oh, Luce, I'm so sorry," Maggie apologised. "I… had some trouble with my car. I… kind of ran into something." She sighed as she dropped her hold-all and bag beside the door.

"I hope it's nothing serious. You need that car," Luce replied anxiously, just as Michael appeared in the open doorway, carrying armloads of clothing.

He filled the space with his height and broad shoulders. He grinned at the older woman, and she looked flustered.

"Oh…" Luce stared up at him. "Oh, my goodness. I do hope it is something serious." She gave him a broad smile and fluttered her eyelashes. "El es hermoso…"

"Luce…" Maggie replied with a sigh. "You're embarrassing me…" Her cheeks flushed with colour. "Um… this is Mr Knight. I… he's staying to share a cup of coffee with me. That's all. We have some business to discuss."

Luce beamed at Michael. "Mucho gusto…"

"Good evening…" He smiled back, enjoying himself.

"Luce takes care of my son while I'm at work," Maggie explained, still looking embarrassed. "I couldn't do it without her help."

"He's pretending to be asleep…" Luce patted her arm. "Such a little angel. Well, I'll be on my way. You two need your privacy. Have a good time. Especially, you…"

She turned to Michael. "She's a wonderful girl. A positive saint. Remember that and take good care of her. I don't want to see you've caused her any tears in the morning."

"As Maggie said, I'm only here to talk." Michael grinned at her enthusiasm as Luce hugged Maggie.

"Good luck," the older woman said. "He's a winner!" she concluded happily. "And maybe even a keeper." She waved as she gathered things and left the apartment, closing the door behind her.

"I'm so sorry. Luce shouldn't have behaved like that," Maggie apologised quickly. "She loves to mother me. But I'm not looking for any romantic entanglements."

"No apology necessary," Michael reassured her. "I'm flattered."

"Well, it's important to me that you believe me." Maggie paused. "I haven't had a man in my apartment since my husband was killed. I like my private life to be just that. Private. I have my boy to think of and I would never endanger him for anyone."

"Mum?" A young boy wandered out from a nearby bedroom, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Buddy…" Maggie smiled as she turned to her son. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I heard voices…" the boy replied drowsily.

"Boys are always curious," Michael observed as he put aside his armloads of clothes on a convenient chair. "I know I was. My Mom could never get me to go to sleep at night. It was such a waste of time."

Maggie sank to her haunches beside her son. "This is Buddy."

"I figured…" Michael waved at the child who was watching him owlishly. "Hi, Buddy."

"Hi…" The boy frowned at him. "Are you going to marry my mom?"

"Oh…" Maggie put her hand to her lips. "I don't believe he just said that." She jumped up and turned the boy back to his room. "Now you go back to your bed, right now. It's late and you need to get some sleep."

"Okay, Mom…" Buddy obeyed, walking back into his room with a disgusted look. "But I still wanna know."

Maggie followed him, looking back over her shoulder. "I'll just be a minute…"

Michael walked after her. "Look. If I wanted to talk to Tanya alone, where would I go? The plant or her apartment?"

Maggie waved him back. "Just a minute. Then I'll make us coffee and answer all your questions."

"Who's Tanya?" Buddy wanted to know. "His girlfriend? Then why's he here instead of there?"

"Buddy…" Maggie gave Michael an apologetic smile as she went into the room. "Shhh. Now it's late and you really do need to go to sleep…"

Michael grinned as he turned away and began to pace the small, neat apartment. None of the furnishings were new or in the best of condition. But it was all comfortable and looked cared for. It felt like a loving home.

Maggie reappeared at the bedroom door. "Look, I'd forget about trying to get close to Tanya when she's off-duty, if I were you. Besides, I think she's staying out at Benjamin's estate for the weekend. That's a high-security place."

Michael turned back to frown at her. "William Benjamin?"

Maggie nodded. "Yeah. He owns Com Tron. She rarely leaves his side. She's got her eye on everything that's going on. Nothing gets past her. And her goons run everything else for her. Mr Benjamin doesn't have a clue about what's happening with his own company."

She looked back into the bedroom at her restless child. "Now you go to sleep," she commanded the boy who was still listening to their conversation.

"So, we go out to the estate," Michael responded. "I know Benjamin will want to talk to me once he knows what I've got to sell."

"Wait a minute…" Maggie left the doorway and walked up to Michael. "I've just thought of something. Tomorrow's the one day she and Benjamin do have to come back to town. They'll need to be seen in public. Com Tron's sponsoring a charity show out at the track."

She walked past him to retrieve her bag. "It's going to be big news and a huge event. Everyone will be there."

"The track?" Michael queried.

"Yeah…" Maggie sighed. "A demolition derby for charity. It was organised well before Tanya and her people showed up. She tried to stop it but Benjamin wouldn't let her. He told my husband that he'd given his word it would go ahead. Tanya was fuming that she couldn't get her own way."

She sighed as she moved closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. "My husband had a hand in organising the derby before he… before he got killed. He was gonna race in it too. Mr Benjamin was gonna lend him a car because he wanted Com Tron to win. Showing off some of his latest gear."

She shook her head. "Back then, Buddy really wanted to go too. You see, in Silicon Valley, they have so much money, they don't use junkers. Every plant is putting up a brand-new car. People are eating it up. That's why Benjamin didn't want to cancel it. It was too good for business."

"I'm truly sorry for your loss." Michael looked thoughtful. "But can anyone enter this race?"

Maggie huffed a disbelieving sigh. "Oh, come on. Who can afford to get his brand-new car totalled out unless he has a bankroll that would choke an elephant? No one I know now has that kind of money."

"But you know me, and I do." Michael smiled. "Tell your son, I'll be by to pick you both up at ten o'clock tomorrow morning. We're going to a car derby."

Before then, he had an important phone call he needed to make. His lips tightened. 'Well, actually, two urgent phone calls…'

"Why?" Maggie stared at him. "Do you mean we get to watch it? I can't afford the gate fee."

"You'll be with me." Michael shrugged. "You two get to watch. I'll be in it."

Before his mother could reply, Buddy burst out of the bedroom with his hands up as he punched the air. "Yeah!"

Maggie's mouth dropped open with amazement. "I really hope you know what you're doing. They're brutal and take no prisoners. They play for keeps and a great deal of money. That lovely car of yours will be smashed to bits and for what?"

Michael put a hand on her shoulder. "You go and make us that coffee and I'll put young Buddy here back to bed. I think I've still got a few bedtime stories in me that're suitable to share."

"Yeah!" Buddy shouted again, punching the air before he scooted back into his bedroom. "All right!"

※※※※※

Devon sat down heavily behind his huge oak desk. It was late at night and Wilton had been dead for barely more than a day. But the vultures were already circling to fight over the carcass of his good friend's hard work and achievements.

"Thanks…" Devon sighed.

He'd thrown aside his suit jacket and tie. He removed his cufflinks and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. He had a dozen fires to put out and only two hands. He ran the fingers of one hand through his already disordered curls, disarranging them further. His mouth tasted like the inside of an old shoe, and he hadn't eaten or drunk anything for hours.

He was deeply grateful to Ralph Wesley for taking over the medical side of the situation and making everything run smoothly. It was one less thing he had to do. Devon knew the doctor missed the old man even more than he did.

Wilton had been the good doctor's patient for more years than he cared to admit. It had been a prickly relationship based on mutual respect and a burning desire never to allow the other man to get the upper hand for too long.

"Just how Wilton liked it," Devon commented wryly as he picked up his pen.

The paperwork to have the good doctor pensioned off lay in front of him. All he had to do was sign on the dotted line. Wilton had made sure his friend would have an easy retirement to his beach house in Florida. He felt he owed him that much for the extra years he'd added to the old man's life.

Suddenly, the telephone at Devon's elbow shrilled a summons. "Now, who is it?" he growled as he snatched the receiver from its cradle and pressed it to his ear. "Devon Miles!" he barked.

"Maggie Flynn…" came the prompt answer. "I'm just ringing to see how you're doing with everything. So, how are you doing?"

"Fine…" Devon replied shortly. "I'm fine. Thanks, Maggie."

"Well, you don't sound fine," Senator Flynn countered. "You sound like a man who's just lost a good friend. I'm sorry about that."

She paused and exhaled sharply. "But I have to tell you that the board isn't too happy with Wilton sliding you in as the new director of FLAG without consulting them. They thought they'd have more say. You still have to answer to the Foundation's board of directors. And that includes me. There's been a lot of grumbling that you've bitten off a lot more than you can chew."

Sharp words of rebuke hovered on the tip of Devon's tongue, but he swallowed them and went for a more conciliatory tone. "I can handle it. Wilton and I have been working on my taking over from him for years. I'm more than familiar with the territory. I have no concerns."

"Yeah, maybe so…" Maggie sighed. "But we both know how close to his chest the old man liked to keep his cards. His poker face was legendary. We have no real idea of exactly how many pies he had his fingers stuck in."

Devon sighed. "I knew his poker face only too well." He sat back in his chair. "Look, Maggie. You didn't just phone me up to see how I am. What do you want? I am rather busy. What with the funeral plans and everything else I need to get done."

There was a short pause. "The board wants to meet with you as soon as possible. Tomorrow's good."

"Why?" Devon asked baldly.

"Because they need to be stroked and reassured," Maggie replied crisply. "They'll be wanting a full accounting. And it seems none of us are welcome to attend the funeral. We all got a telegram today, sent by Wilton not long before he died. That hasn't gone down well either."

"That was how Wilton wanted it," Devon replied. "He wanted to keep it private and personal. It was his last wish, and I will respect that. Tell them what I just said. Wilton Knight will be buried in a quiet corner of the grounds of this house like he planned. I won't go against his wishes. Not for anyone. We both know how much he hated public displays of fake emotion."

"Yeah, I do. And I understand," Maggie conceded. "They won't be happy. But I'll tell them."

Devon's lips thinned. "They're not interested in Wilton or his legacy. They're just making sure their fat salaries will keep on rolling in. Well, you can tell them, they don't have to worry. And I'll agree to meet with them when I am good and ready and not before."

"Okay, okay…" Maggie replied slowly. "But there have been some rather large outgoings these last five years or so. More, if you dig back far enough into Wilton's past. I've always had the feeling the old boy had more interests overseas than any of us have ever been told about…" She paused and waited.

Devon's lips thinned. "Nothing that I've ever been made aware of. Wilton always played it straight. But if he didn't want you to know something, then you never would find out. So, you may as well stop digging."

"Cryptic, but true." Maggie Flynn sighed her dissatisfaction. "But there's still a lot of money that's gone unaccounted for. I know he was working on something. Some big dream of his about taking on the world and making bad men pay for their crimes. But he never shared any of the details with me or anyone on the board. There was also something else about some coastal wetland he planned on saving. From what and who for?"

She cleared her throat. "Any chance you can clear up that for us? Or was it all just the rambling sentiments of an old man past his prime?"

Devon's fingers clenched around his fountain pen. "Every cent of that money came out of Wilton's private accounts. You know he was always inventing things and working on big projects. It kept him going when other, lesser men, would have quit. I don't know what he spent it on and I do not care to go probing into a dead man's affairs."

He sighed harshly. "And if there ever was anything else he owned - overseas or wherever - well, that information died with him. I will leave it that way and so will you."

"I see…" Maggie sounded deeply dissatisfied. "Very well. If that's the case, then we shall leave it there for now. But I know the board will not be happy that you haven't been more forthcoming. They will be wanting answers and soon."

"Hang the board!" Devon shot back. "They do not own me!"

"All right, all right…" Maggie soothed. "Calm down. I'll explain it to them. I'm sure they'll understand. Goodbye. Devon. We will meet again soon enough. Until then, look after yourself."

"Goodbye…" Devon managed not to slam the receiver back into its cradle.

He sat in his chair glaring at it. Then he dropped his gaze to the bottom drawer of his desk. He bent down to pull it open and took out the bottle of whiskey and one glass. He stared for a moment at the other glass he left behind before he shut the drawer.

He uncorked the bottle and poured himself a generous measure. "Here's to you, my good friend…"

He raised the glass toward the ornate plaster moulded ceiling. "Sláinte mhaith, mo chara. I get the feeling you're in a better place than I am right now. The board's blasted knives are out. I suppose you knew when not to stick around."

He downed the amber liquid in one long swallow. He gasped as the potent fumes curled around his tired senses, and then he poured himself another.

He signed Dr Wesley's paperwork before he leaned further back in his chair and raised his feet to rest on the edge of the desk, crossing his legs at the ankle. He lifted his glass again in salute to the ghosts who inhabited the shadows that clustered in the corners of his office beyond the glowing reach of his desk lamp.

There were so many. And now there was one more…

But that same sweet memory always stood out to tug once more at his sorrowing heart. He didn't think he'd ever felt quite so alone as he did right then.

"Lucy…" he murmured in a deeply regretful tone as he watched the love of his life vanish once more into the train's billowing cloud of smoke and steam. His heart skipped another beat.

"Cuisle mo chroí…" he whispered. "Please, don't leave me here, alone in the dark…"

※※※※※