Chapter Four

Trouble In Paradise

The Trans Am immediately switched his mode back to "NORMAL CRUISE" and the vehicle slowly came to a halt on the shoulder of the road. The police car moved to a stop close behind it.

"If I may suggest," Kitt continued quickly. "Deafness is always a good approach to law enforcement officers. How good an actor are you, Michael?"

Michael scowled at the red screen. "You shut up. I'll handle this. You were probably weaving all over the road. That's what got their attention."

"I beg to differ," Kitt replied in an offended tone. "On the contrary, I am an excellent driver. I obey all the rules, and I do not fall asleep behind the wheel."

"Okay… Out!" one of the advancing police officers shouted.

Kitt continued a little snippily, "You could not have driven better. I might also suggest you display a slight kink in your neck since you were seen driving with your head resting against the window."

One of the officers leaned down to the car. "I said, out!" Both now had their hands on the weapons at their hips.

Michael sighed. "Aah – terrific. Why didn't you warn me?"

"You told me to keep quiet," Kitt replied reasonably, with a slightly smug undertone. "I believe the colloquialism you used was for me to 'clam up'."

The officer looked at his partner. "Who's he talking to?"

The other man shook his head. "Nobody. There ain't no one else in the car. This boy's a hard-core alky. He's seein' things."

The officer turned back. "Did you hear me? I said, out! Or you'll spend the night in jail!"

Michael looked up and moved his lips without sound and pointed to his ears with one hand as he rolled down the window with the other.

The second officer waved an impatient hand. "That's better. Now come on out! Get the balloon, Deke. We've got a right one here."

Michael leaned out of the window, still cupping his ear. "I'm sorry, officer, but can you speak in sign language, or slightly slower? I haven't quite gotten lip reading down, yet." He looked suitably apologetic.

The first officer seemed mystified. "What? You mean you can't hear?"

Michael climbed out of the car and continued with his pantomime. "Could you talk louder, into this ear?" He bent over slightly for the officer, his head kinked to one side like he had a permanent injury.

"You mean, you're deaf?"

Deke's brow cleared. "Oh, that explains everything. I told you nobody could drive that smooth if he was drunk... And we can get home without spending the whole night booking him for nothing. I call that a winner."

Michael leaned closer with a perplexed look. "What?"

The first officer inhaled and began to shout, "He said..." He waved a hand. "Never mind. Go on your way. Sorry to bother you, but watch your rearview mirror from now on. We've been flashing you for miles." He used a great deal of confusing sign language with his hands to emphasise his points.

"Yes, sir. I'll do that," Michael replied smartly. He saluted them.

The officers exchanged frustrated glances as they walked back to their cruiser. They climbed in and drove off.

Michael watched them leave. "Why do I get the feeling this isn't the last time I'm gonna run into trouble in this town?" He shook his head as he climbed back into his car.

Kitt replied, "That is why I have taken the precaution of exchanging our licence plate. Just in case those officers decide to do their duty and file a detailed report. I believe the colloquialism is, we do not need that kind of heat."

Michael stared at him. "What's it say now? And how did you do that?"

"A simple mechanism that Devon ordered to be installed. I have several plate numbers or words at my disposal on rotation." Kitt paused and then said, "I decided KNIGHT was the most appropriate."

"Oh, you did, did you?" Michael frowned at the red screen. "Remind me again who owns you? I might like to have a say in such decisions in future."

He paused and frowned. "But that was a good idea. Heat we do not need. The less the better."

"You're welcome, Mr Knight," Kitt said with some satisfaction in his tone. "I had everything well in hand. I am sure you are now beginning to see my value."

"When I want your opinion or your advice, I'll ask for it! Until then, I thought I told you to clam up!" Michael replied sharply, annoyed with himself for becoming involved with the AI again. 'Like it's actually human or something…'

"Talking cars… Devon, you've got a lot to answer for…" He shook his head as he shoved the car into gear and drove off.

※※※※※

Guided by Kitt's onboard navigation system, Michael pulled into a large carpark before a modern manufacturing plant in the town of Millston. A large sign on the edge of the carpark declared it belonged to COM TRON.

Michael looked out the open driver's window. "Com Tron, just like Devon said. That looks like a good place to start looking for Tanya. I doubt she's too far away from the money."

He was in time to see several people, including several very attractive young ladies, crossing the carpark from the gated plant toward an establishment called the 'House of the Rising Sun' on the other side of the carpark. They were all laughing and chatting to each other as they walked.

Michael drove on and pulled up before the bar establishment. The group of chattering women entered through the front doors.

"House of the Rising Sun," Michael observed. "This looks like the best place to pick up on the local scene. Maybe find me an informant."

"Saloons usually are," Kitt replied dryly.

Michael frowned at his red screen. "How would you know anything about that? You're just a car."

"I am not 'just' anything. I am unique," Kitt sounded miffed as he continued, "Social gathering places where alcoholic beverages are consumed in quantity can create a causative environment in which indiscretion becomes commonplace. Just remember you're there to listen, not to talk."

"You know. You're about as much fun as a divorce! Which is not a bad idea!" Michael flared up and pounded the dash with his fist as he climbed out.

"Well, I want custody of me," Kitt replied tersely. "You must imbibe with caution, Michael. You are here to gather information. Not to become a part of the social scene. And please do remember, you are still in recovery mode. Dr Wesley would want you to limit your intake of alcohol."

Michael turned back to him. "That's it. When a car starts telling me how much to drink, I've had it with the lectures."

He leaned back into through the window. "You know, I should've gotten rid of you before I turned you on. Now I can't shut you up!"

"You cannot shut me up because you need me," Kitt reasoned. "You must remember what Devon told you. My primary function is in the preservation of human life. Your life, Mr Knight."

"Yeah, well, thanks. But don't you think about going for gas, or doing anything else fancy, while I'm gone. Just sit here and clam up!"

Three women, who had been walking past, paused in the doorway of the bar to take note of Michael's outburst. They looked puzzled as they stared at him.

Michael slammed the door and looked up. He smiled winningly. "Hi, ladies…"

The three women didn't reply as they walked up to a fourth, who observed with a smile. "Some guys sure start early. Talking to his car is a bad sign."

She shrugged as she turned her attention to three well-dressed young men who were passing them and walking into the bar. "But he isn't our problem. Those guys are the ones we came here for."

The girls looked after the young men wearing expensive, three-piece suits and laughing amongst themselves. They all nodded as they turned to follow them into the House of the Rising Sun.

Their leader remarked quietly, "Let's stick to the business to hand." She glanced back at Michael as she followed the others inside.

Michael managed to conceal his seething anger as he leaned back against the car. He'd immediately recognised the fourth woman as Lonnie Maxwell. The thief Muntzy had been following right before he'd been shot down in cold blood in that Las Vegas car park. If she was around, getting up to her old tricks, then Tanya couldn't be too far away.

Michael tried to remain looking disinterested and waited until they'd all entered the establishment before he followed them inside. He didn't need anyone asking him awkward questions about Kitt that he had no way of answering.

He ran a hand up around the back of his neck. And he felt like a prize fool for being seen shouting at a car. As soon as he could get away and find a payphone, he was going to put a call to Devon and demand a few answers.

"And he better have some…" He grimaced as he entered the bar.

He took up a watching position at a convenient table. Time ticked slowly by. The jukebox was blaring and the booths around him were all occupied by boisterous people enjoying themselves with ample rounds of libation. No one seemed to be in any hurry to go anywhere or make a move to return to work.

Michael sat watching a corner booth as he finished his drink and ordered another, then a third. The three young women he'd seen outside were clustered there, talking to the young men they'd followed inside.

Lonnie was standing beside the table, seeming to be directing the "getting to know you" scenario that was being played out. She glanced in Michael's direction and smiled at him before she looked away, giving her attention back to the young men seated at their table.

Her three female cohorts were working their prey well with tinkling laughter while making all the right moves. The women were well-ensconced with the three young executives. Two of them were getting extremely friendly. A few kisses were exchanged as their leader casually glanced over at Michael again with sober curiosity.

He ordered another drink and sat nursing it while he considered his options. He could go over there and interrupt their party. Or he could wait until someone came along who could give him the information, he was seeking without alerting Tanya. He knew Lonnie wouldn't hesitate to call her boss.

He didn't doubt she could tell him exactly where to find Tanya. But he didn't want to go for the full-frontal assault just yet. He wanted to worry her and her little gang of pretty thieves. Make them think and begin to second-guess his intentions and why he was watching them. Above all, he wanted to make Lonnie and Tanya pay for leading Muntzy to his death.

※※※※※

Outside in the parking lot, Kitt sat quiescent in the warmth of the late afternoon sunshine. He was running his diagnostics and trying to logically work out the complex personality of the irascible pilot Devon had saddled him with.

He didn't doubt Michael Knight was a man who could handle himself, but Kitt was concerned he was also intent on over-reaching the boundaries of his recovery and relapsing. As he had done on this trip upstate by falling asleep behind the wheel. Kitt's primary function was the protection and preservation of human life.

"One human, in particular. Michael Arthur Knight," he said in a thoughtful tone.

Kitt paused in his observations. He briefly considered putting a call through to Devon over the microwave mobile line Dr Barstow had installed. Kitt wanted to go over his list of objections and performance data but then decided against that move for now. He needed to gather more facts and make further observations about his pilot's abilities or lack of them.

He continued running through his diagnostics, seeking further weaknesses and flaws in Michael's personality. He needed to be sound in his reasoning when he demanded a new pilot be assigned to him. Michael Knight was too impulsive, impetuous and overly loud in both his personality, irascible commands, and his choice of music.

Outside, a sky-blue Pontiac rolled slowly into the car park, like a vulture searching for prey. And finding it. It rolled along the line of cars and came to a stop behind Kitt.

"Do you see what I see?" The driver indicated the Trans Am with a flick of his hand.

"Mmmm, mamacita…" the passenger continued in Spanish, making kissing noises as he declared his appreciation for the car. "It's a beauty, Jackson. A really beautiful machine. Ella es muy hermosa…"

"Yeah, and it's mine," the driver declared. "Keep your eyes off it, Brown."

"Say what?" his companion demanded to know. "Since when?"

"It's mine," Jackson repeated as he got out of his car. "Remember, I saw it first."

"We both saw her together," Brown grumbled as he followed. "We're partners, remember? Equal shares in everything."

They approached Kitt. Jackson leaned one arm on the roof. "I have died and gone to automobile heaven." He bent down to look inside at all the gadgets and screens. "Look at all this stuff. There's some things in there that I ain't never seen before."

He blew a low whistle. "We'll get a fine penny for it all."

Kitt remained quiescent as he watched and waited. He gave no sign that he was aware of the impending intrusion. To any outside observer, he was simply a car. Even with all his gadgetry and lights.

"What ya gonna do?" Brown asked looking all around.

Jackson straightened up. "Cover me," he said as he pulled a strip of metal from the side pocket of his jeans.

"Cover you, man? Here?" Brown gasped, putting a hand on his sleeve. "Are you out of your mind?"

"With this machine, I am."

"Well, lookee here, Jackson," Brown pleaded. "There's a right way and a wrong way to do things. And this here now, is all wrong, man. Think!"

"You may be right," Jackson admitted reluctantly.

His fellow car thief looked aggrieved. "I know I'm right." He glanced around again. "This happens to be the most popular, not to mention the most populated place, in town. You're gonna get us caught and locked up. I don't look good in a prison suit."

"Yeah, maybe…" Jackson smiled at him grimly. "But there will come another time. Me and this car got a date." He smoothed one hand over the bodywork.

"That's a fact…" His friend smiled confidently at him. "But when no one's around to catch us lifting it. It's best if it's just a party of three."

"And we'll be ready." Jackson laughed. "Ready and waiting."

The two men shook hands as they both looked back at Kitt with greed in their eyes. They returned to their car and drove away, seeking easier and more secluded, prey to fill in their time.

※※※※※

Michael stared back at Lonnie as she continued to look him over with professional curiosity. He could see he'd aroused her interest, but he was beginning to feel a bit like a bug under glass. In his previous life, he'd enjoyed doing all the chasing. Women expected it and he was okay with that.

But this was business, not pleasure, and Lonnie seemed too much like a lioness on the prowl. Michael smiled grimly. He had no intention of being on her personal menu any time soon. He had bigger fish to catch and reel in. And he needed to find that one person who could give him information he needed to know about Tanya, without raising too much suspicion or unwanted attention.

The arrival of the scantily clad young table waitress interrupted his cross-room romance. "Your tab's starting to get up there," she said as she delivered his next round of drinks. "I'll need a credit card if you're staying any longer."

Michael glanced up. "Yeah, sure." He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket for his wallet. "Listen, do you happen to know those people in that corner booth over there?" He held out his newly minted credit card.

The young waitress noted down his card details on her order pad before she looked over at the booth. She frowned. "Let me do you a favour and save you some money. Unless you like waking up sucking dirt, don't get interested in anyone at that table. They're all bad news and professional hustlers. You'd do better diving head-first into a pit full of rattlesnakes."

"Thanks…" Michael shrugged as he took back his card. "I'll keep that in mind."

He wondered at her hostility and vehemence. She obviously knew more than he'd figured at first. "But it wasn't anyone at the table I was curious about. It's someone else. Look, I noticed they all came across the street from that Com Tron place."

The waitress raised sceptical eyebrows. "Oh, yeah? They all work there. If you can call it work. I doubt any of them know what that is."

Michael's interest rose several notches. He wondered why she looked so defensive. "Well, I'm trying to look up an old friend of mine who works there. I thought she might be able to help me with something I've got going on."

The waitress shrugged and remained looking defensive. "Okay. Well, I used to work there. Who's the friend?"

Michael considered his options and decided he had nothing to lose. "Her name's Tanya Walker."

The young woman's impatient stare turns bitterly sour. She snatched the glass of beer from her tray and tipped it into Michael's lap. "Forget it!"

He jumped to his feet. "Hey! What's the matter with you?" He grabbed up a napkin and began wiping down his wet jeans.

The waitress shrugged and glared at him. "That's what I think of any friends of Tanya Walker!"

The harassed bar manager hurried over, looking totally annoyed. "What happened here, Maggie? As if I didn't already know! What've you been doing now?"

"It's nothing, nothing," Michael quickly denied, annoyed at the intrusion when he was finally getting somewhere. "It was just an accident. The tray tipped over."

"Oh, oh, it was no accident," Maggie snapped, giving him a filthy look. "You got exactly what you deserved!"

The manager turned on her. "Maggie, this is the last time I put up with your discourtesy to my paying customers! When you finish up your last shift tonight at nine, you can consider yourself fired. Again! And good riddance!"

Michael raised a restraining hand. "Hey, that's not necessary. Calm down. We were just talking here." He was deeply aware their disagreement was being closely observed from the booth he'd been covertly watching.

Maggie snapped at the manager, "Shut up, jerk! Go hang out with those Com Tron bums you like so much! I fight my own battles!"

She shoved her tray carrying more drinks into his gut in a way he couldn't possibly handle. More beer spilt all over the man. He grabbed the tray and glared at Maggie as she walked away.

"Thanks for nothing…" Michael sighed as he watched her hustle her way back into the kitchen.

He was determined to continue their discussion, but he had no hope of doing that now. He could wait until the end of the shift. He needed to change anyway. A clean motel room, some food and a hot shower were very tempting right now. Maybe he'd even grab some shut-eye and get ready for the night ahead.

"I think I'll leave before something else comes down on me," he commented drily to the manager before he left him to clean up the mess.

"Yeah, right," the manager agreed, staring after Maggie.

Michael walked out, making a show of shaking beer from his hands and arms. He made sure he gave special attention, and an apologetic smile, to Lonnie in the other booth. She was still eyeing his every move as he walked past.

He left the bar and headed toward his car. Lonnie appeared in the doorway behind him. She strolled over with an air of fake friendly interest.

"I heard you mention Tanya Walker in there. You, a friend?" She walked closer to him and smiled in a disarming way. "I don't think I know you."

Michael smiled as he turned to her and put up his hands in defence. "You're not going to throw anything at me, are you?" He gave a small chuckle. "I mean, I'm already wet enough."

Lonnie looked him up and down and her smile widened. "Why should I? She's a friend of mine, too." She moved closer.

"Yeah?" Michael considered her, making himself appear harmless. "You know how I might get a hold of her?"

The woman lifted her shoulders. "I'm afraid she's already seeing someone."

Michael shrugged. "Well, I'm not interested in her body. I'm interested in her money." He maintained his easy stance and open face.

His informant blinked. "Come again?" She still managed to keep her smile.

"I've got something to sell. Something rather valuable," Michael replied smoothly.

Lonnie edged closer. "Like what?" Her come-hither smile slipped just a little.

Michael looked both ways. "That's between me and her." He walked away to Kitt and opened the door and got in.

"Ah…" Lonnie hustled after him, trying to prevent him from leaving. "Who shall I tell her inquired? She likes to know who wants to talk to her. She a very busy woman."

Michael smiled up at her as he shut the door. "Just tell her I'm an old friend." He maintained his 'aw shucks' look. He nodded as he turned and backed out of his parking spot.

Lonnie watched him drive away as she concentrated on his licence number and state of origin. Her come-hither smile had completely disappeared, and her stare was calculating.

※※※※※

Standing behind the front desk of Com Tron, the man who shot Muntzy down in cold blood picked up the telephone receiver. "Security. Gray, speaking."

"This is Tanya," his caller answered crisply in an annoyed tone. "I've just been told that someone has come to town asking about me. I don't like it. I'll give you a car and license number. Check it out. He drives a new, black Trans Am with Californian plates and the lettering, K.N.I.G.H.T."

"Got it…" Gray made a notation on the pad at his elbow. "If it's another nosy cop, we'll handle him like all the other ones. Like the last guy we left out in the Nevada desert for the coyotes to find. He won't be bothering us again." He seemed very confident about his abilities to solve such thorny issues.

"Exactly what I had in mind," Tanya replied coolly. "Strictly business. Get it done quickly and quietly before they ask too many questions. We don't have any more time to waste. The distraction we need will be happening tomorrow."

The telephone went dead in Gray's ear before he could reply. "Yes, ma'am…" He saluted ironically as he replaced the receiver into its cradle.

He disliked taking orders from a woman. Any woman. But Tanya Walker paid him very well and often. That's why he stuck around. She had an excellent hunting sense for easy and rich targets. He'd play along for now, while it suited him. If it got too hot, he could always walk away.

High up in the executive suite, Tanya dropped the phone back into its cradle. She smiled with satisfaction. She felt supremely confident that whoever was looking for her would soon wish they hadn't arrived in town to stick their nose into her business. She detested loose ends and unexpected events.

"Who're you calling, love?"

Tanya reacted with a small laugh as a pair of strong arms came around her waist from behind. She quickly replaced her look of dissatisfaction with another of caring love as she turned within William Benjamin's embrace. The indecently wealthy head of Com Tron was forty-five, in good shape and reasonably handsome.

He wasn't hard to enjoy as a means to an end. And his end would be coming soon. Tanya was becoming sick of his neediness. He wanted her attention all the time and she had more important things to do before she left town for good.

"Just one of our people down in Security," she said in a breathless tone as she put her arms around his neck. "As the president of this company, you're an irreplaceable asset and I don't want anything to happen to you tomorrow. It could get messy down at the track."

She smiled as she pressed her forehead briefly against his. "You know how much I worry about you when you go out in public. It's my job to take care of you."

"Don't be silly, Tanya. Nothing's going to happen to me," her lover assured her confidently. "I'm just a businessman. I'm not a threat to anyone. I'm sure no one wants to hurt me."

Tanya gave him a pitying look as she moved closer. "Darling, in this day and age, there are all kinds of people out there in the world, who'd like to get their hands on a very rich man like you." She reached up to kiss him fully and her unwitting prey didn't see the predatory look in her eyes as she pulled back and rested her cheek against his shoulder.

"You just be grateful you have me to take care of you and look out for your very best interests," she reassured him as she turned away and drew him after her toward the bedroom.

※※※※※