Michael and Kitt were on their way home from another successful mission for the Foundation. Kitt estimated they would be back at the Foundation mansion by mid-morning, where Michael would (Kitt hoped) get some much-needed rest. The problem with each successful case is that word got out, and the list of people wanting help from the Foundation got that much longer. Devon was on the East Coast on Foundation business, which would give Michael an excuse to not take on another assignment right away. And his partner could certainly use the downtime.
Perhaps Michael would be willing to watch TV with his ward, Melissa Knight. She would be done with her morning physical therapy session a little before they returned. Melissa wasn't able to participate in many physical activities. Watching TV, however, was something she could do. And doing so would help Michael to relax.
Although it hadn't even been a month since they had met, Michael and Melissa had grown quite close to one another. Kitt was slightly surprised and very intrigued. Michael seemed outgoing, but he was really quite a private person. He let very few people get close to him: Kitt (of course), Devon, Bonnie, April, and now Melissa.
For her part, Melissa had warmly accepted Michael as her guardian. And she was the second person – after Stevie Mason – who saw Michael as Michael. Devon saw him as Wilton Knight's chosen operative for the Foundation. Bonnie and April both saw him as Kitt's driver. Even Kitt saw him as the man he was programmed to protect. But to Melissa, he was just Michael.
They arrived at the mansion and drove around to the garage. April, Dr. Wesley, and Emily were waiting for them as they pulled into the bay. Kitt postulated that something had happened to Melissa. Dr. Wesley's presence meant that something medical had occurred, which could be Devon. But Emily was Melissa's physical therapist, and she had no role in Devon's medical care.
Given Michael's sudden intake of breath and how he had just tensed, he had likely drawn the same conclusion as Kitt. Kitt said nothing, however, as asking questions that neither he nor Michael could answer wouldn't reduce his partner's stress levels. Quite the contrary, doing so would more likely increase them. Michael exited the car almost before Kitt was parked.
"Is Melissa okay?" he asked, confirming that he had drawn the same conclusion as Kitt.
"Physically, yes," replied Emily, confirming that they had both drawn the correct conclusion.
Michael relaxed marginally. "What happened?"
"We're . . . not sure," said Emily, who was apparently the group's designated spokeswoman. "Melissa hasn't said a word."
"Okay, so she doesn't want to talk about it. Whatever it is."
"Perhaps Miss Knight doesn't know who to talk to, with both Devon and Michael away," Kitt suggested.
Emily shook her head. "No, you don't understand. Melissa isn't talking . . . at all. About anything. Since Tuesday."
Michael was alarmed. "It's Thursday!" He forced himself to remain calm. "Start at the beginning."
"She was fine when I saw her for morning PT on Tuesday. But when she showed up for afternoon PT, she didn't say a word the entire time. She did what I asked, just in silence."
"Same thing when I saw her at lunch yesterday," April chimed in. "If I asked her to pass something, she did. But she never said anything."
"Silent how? Sullen or withdrawn?"
Kitt thought it was a good question. Melissa was 16, and this could just be typical teenager behavior.
Emily considered Michael's question. "Withdrawn."
April nodded her agreement. "Unhappily so."
"I've never seen her like this," Emily said.
"I have." Everyone looked at Dr. Wesley. "After her hip was fractured. And again, after she learned about Wilton's final illness."
Kitt wondered why no one ever said "after Garthe fractured her hip". Her hip didn't spontaneously fracture on its own, after all. Garthe threw her from a second-floor window. The fall – or more accurately, the landing – fractured her hip.
Michael let out his breath. "Right. I'll go talk with her. Any idea where I'll find her?"
Kitt would guess the pool. Melissa enjoyed sitting there, reading. To his surprise, April suggested trying the library. Though on reflection, the library was a place for her to hide, to avoid seeing people. And to avoid talking with them.
"Good luck, Michael," said Dr. Wesley.
"Any thoughts, pal?" Michael asked on his way to the mansion.
"Based on Dr. Wesley's comments, something has upset Miss Knight deeply."
"Yeah, but what?"
"I have insufficient information to answer that question, Michael. However, it was likely triggered by an unpleasant encounter: a letter, a phone call, or even a visit from someone."
"Good guess."
"Would you like me to check?"
Michael thought for a moment. "Check the visitor's log for Tuesday."
"The only person on the visitor's log for Tuesday after Miss Knight's morning physical therapy session is Dale Brockmore, of the Foundation Board of Directors."
"Was he alone?"
"No, he was accompanied by his wife. They did meet with Melissa, according to the log."
"Why would meeting with the Brockmores trigger Melissa?"
"I do not know. Shall I check the telephone logs, too?"
"No, not yet. I don't want to invade Melissa's privacy any more than I have to."
Michael entered the house. He headed for the library because it was as good a place as any to start his search. Kitt would have preferred if Melissa were at the pool. He could tell a lot via the commlink, but not everything. For example, he could not read body language or facial expressions unless he was using his optical sensors.
Melissa was, in fact, in the library. She was on the settee, reading a book. She looked up as Michael entered the room, then went back to reading. Her behavior was so atypical that Michael and Kitt would have been concerned even they hadn't been given a heads up by Emily and the others.
Michael paused at the library entrance, clearly unsure how to proceed. Kitt wasn't sure what approach to take, either. And then Michael walked over to Melissa and smiled down at her.
"Trust me. Stand up."
To Kitt's surprise, Melissa did as he asked. Though she did so slowly, more slowly than her fractured hip – the one Garthe had fractured – would normally warrant. Michael just hugged her tightly. Through the commlink, Kitt could tell she was tense, but not because of the hug. Which meant that Michael was not the cause of the problem. Not that Kitt had thought he was.
Michael took long, deep breaths. Melissa unconsciously did the same. Kitt could sense her tension ebbing as they stood there. But her tension didn't go away entirely. Not yet, anyway.
Eventually, Michael said gently, "Melissa, I'm your guardian. You need to tell me what's going on, okay?"
Melissa nodded. Michael released her, and they both sat back down on the settee. Michael draped his arm across the back of the settee, not quite touching Melissa.
"Something happened on Tuesday, right?" Melissa nodded again. "So what was it?"
Michael kept his voice low and calm, almost hypnotic. Kitt wondered why he didn't ask whether Brockmore was the cause. Then he remembered Michael's comment about not invading Melissa's privacy. He was clearly waiting for her to volunteer information rather than forcibly prying it from her.
Melissa took a deep, shaky breath and then finally spoke. "Mr. Brockmore from the Foundation Board dropped by late Tuesday morning."
"What did he want?"
"I don't remember the excuse he gave."
After a pause, Michael prompted her. "But . . . ?"
"He came to show off – I mean, introduce – his second wife to Uncle Devon. And you."
"Let me guess: half the age of his first wife?"
"Half the age, third the brains, and a quarter the social skills," was the dry response.
"But looks good in a bikini. Or a strapless dress."
Melissa nodded, though Kitt couldn't tell whether it was a withdrawn and not talking to anyone nod or an agreement nod. Likely, though, it was both: Melissa was agreeing with Michael without having to speak. He was also – as usual – impressed by his partner's interrogation skills. Michael was using the right combination of open- and closed-ended questions to draw information out of his ward. And to draw her out of her shell.
"And which was she wearing?"
"Spaghetti-strap sun dress. With one shoulder artfully bared."
"Of course. And since Devon and I were both away on Foundation business, you had to talk with them."
"Yes."
Clearly, one of the Brockmores had said something that upset Melissa. Though Kitt had no idea what that might have been. He and Michael had only known Melissa for a few short weeks, and neither knew what topics were off-limits. Other than Garthe Knight, and maybe also Elizabeth Knight.
"What did you talk about?"
After a pause, Melissa said, "Mrs. Brockmore said that Dad died too young and how sorry she was that he had died. At some length."
"She knew Wilton Knight?" Michael was surprised.
Melissa shook her head. "Purely performative. For an audience of one."
"An audience of one?"
Kitt said, "I believe the new Mrs. Brockmore was reassuring her husband – her much older husband – that she expected him to live for a good long time."
"Ah, right."
Kitt doubted that Melissa had been upset by the tactless reminder of her father's death. And clearly Michael was on the same page.
"What else did you discuss with the Brockmores?" he asked.
There was an even longer pause before Melissa answered in a low voice. "Mr. Brockmore said the bigger tragedy was that Garthe hadn't been here to take care of me after Dad died." She then added, in an anguished whisper, "Do you have any idea what he'd have done to me?"
"No, "Michael said softly, "No, I can't even begin to imagine." He sighed. "But you can. And have been."
Melissa lapsed back into silence. Kitt was surprised that Michael said and did nothing to comfort her. After a few minutes, Melissa slid over, closer to Michael, and leaned against him. Only then did Michael move his arm from the back of the settee to around her shoulders. Kitt realized that Michael had been waiting until Melissa was ready to come to him.
Kitt knew humans often dwelt on painful memories. So clearly, he and Michael needed to redirect Melissa's thoughts by giving her something else to think about.
"Miss Knight, Garthe Knight is dead," Kitt said.
"Show me a body," she said darkly, "And I will consider it as possibility. A remote possibility."
Kitt rapidly evaluated his options. Melissa was reliving memories of growing up with Garthe and projecting a possible (and highly unpleasant) future. Therefore, she needed to replace those memories with better ones. And he had the solution.
"Miss Knight, after your graduation ceremony, Michael and I took you for a ride. However, we were not able to demonstrate all my capabilities."
"What do you have in mind, pal?"
"I will meet you and Miss Knight at the front door."
Michael chuckled appreciatively at Kitt not answering his question. "Well, kiddo, you do need to get out the house for a bit. And we have time before your afternoon session with Emily."
Melissa stood, putting on her leg brace and picking up her crutch. She and Michael walked slowly to the front door. Michael kept his arm around her as they walked. Kitt let April know what was going on and then drove to the front door, meeting them as promised. Michael got Melissa settled, placing her leg brace and crutch in the back seat before getting behind the wheel.
"What do you have in mind?"
Kitt pulled up a map and highlighted a spot. "I believe this would be an appropriate location."
Michael recognized the location with a grin. "Oh, definitely. Right, let's go."