The Not So Lonesome Knight: Mistake at the Motel

Untitled Part 11

While the lackadaisical atmosphere of the neighborhood made it ideal for those contemplating retirement, it made the abduction and this case all the more disconcerting. There is an absence of typical noises one would expect like the rumbling of cars down the street, the melodious sounds of children laughing, and not a peep escapes the dogs. Almost as if, the general populace had fallen into a tranquil slumber. The kind you'd encounter twilight-zone and not in the waking realms of reality. This same sedated spirit pervades the walls of Stevens's household.

It wasn't long before Devon had called with the names of the security detail. Santiago Ernesto, Juan Escobar, Maxwell Scholare, and Travis Mays. Bonnie doesn't know the individuals personally and so she dictated the names on the nearest notepad. Devon must have had to outsource for fear that some of his more critical agents were left at risk. While they awaited the arrival of the security detail, Bonnie and Grace took to conversing.

"He's really sweet. Isn't he? That man you work with, Knight, was it?" Grace questions, the tea-glass is swept effortlessly upwards to nestle her lower-lip. Gossip made an excellent diversion when it revolved around what she had just witnessed between the two FLAG agents.

Bonnie finds herself inclined to agree. "Yes, Michael Knight is very sweet." The confession seemed innocent enough. Right?

Grace lowers her tea-cup ever so slightly. "You have a thing for each other. I can tell. You two behave just as Kent and I did before we were married. The longing glances, the subtle touches of hands, and the likes. We had worked together before his time with the Foundation."

The brunette mechanic had picked an unfortunate moment to take a sip of her own beverage and as a result choked, nearly spraying her coffee everywhere. Shakily Bonnie questions, "I...I beg y..your pardon?" She uses a kerchief to dab at her lips. She can't help but feel startled having been called out. I..." Bonnie starts, shifting wholly uncomfortably in her seat, "I... it's entirely professional between Michael and myself."

"Naturally," Grace responds with an almost motherly flare. Her eyes shining with a high-spiritedness that had been previously lacking. "You're smitten with him. Aren't you?" She pauses, taking several minutes to read Bonnie's expression. "You pretend not to care, but I see it in your eyes. Or is it that you don't allow yourself to care for fear of being hurt?" Grace highly suspected it was the last statement that rang true for the pretty mechanic.

Bonnie's soul had never felt more exposed to a stranger. How could she know so much about her after spending a few hours together? It was perplexing and vexing, to say the least. Her gaze is cast downwards in flutters of dark lashes. A deep scarlet flushes through her cheeks, scalding them with the same intensity of heat as a fresh brewed coffee. "I...." For as educated as she was, Bonnie floundered for a way to dispel the analysis of the other woman. This time, her mind takes careful consideration of the ways in which her reply could be interpreted. She had been so hapless in revealing too much of her hand with the confession earlier, she dares not make the same mistake twice.

"Mark my words, it'll be him you end up at the altar with. No one else will ever come close." Tapping her finger against the delicate porcelain Grace continues, "it was the same way with my Kent and I. Everyone else could see it long before we ever allowed ourselves to acknowledge our own feelings."

Bonnie's turquoise hues flash upwards, startled by the other woman's proceeding assessment. Was she right? Were the two of them destined to end up together? She was just about to pose her elegant rebuttal to the woman's statements when the doorbell rang.

The FLAG agent reveled in the reprieve that the interruption afforded her. It was the security detail! Thank heavens. Every name gifted her from the other side of the door happened to match the ones scripted on the notepad. A Colombian man with the name Santiago seemed to be the head speaker of the group whereas the others seemed to fall into the background.

"First things first, Senorita. We're going to take a look around the property to make sure we don't find anything out of the ordinary, tracking devises, cameras, and the likes." Kitt had already done a preemptive scan but it wouldn't hurt to let the hired help do one of their own. The fact that they thought to check puts Bonnie at ease. Devon certainly knew good groups to call in.

While they were investigating the surroundings and speaking with Grace, Bonnie disappeared into the kitchen to re-write some of the Foundation's code on a notepad of paper. She'd have to wait until she got back to the semi before she could truly update the computer's systems without the fear of leaving the network more vulnerable to more hackers. Besides, she'd like to run some of the improvements run by Devon Miles and Rc3 before they were actually implemented.

Hours passed quickly and the security detail settled in their stations, one man on every door and one seated in Grace's living-room with Grace. Grace made sure to dote upon the detail as well, just as she had the FLAG agents. She and Juan seemed to make fast friends talking about everything and anything under the sun.

When the phone rang, everyone just about jumped out of their skin. Bonnie waited for the third ring to take up the receiver. "Hello?" She smoothly remarks. "I see. We'll be expecting your arrival."

Turning to Grace, who had joined her in the room, Bonnie replies, "that was Kitt. He and Michael are going to be swinging by to pick me up. Before they do, I want to leave you with the address and phone number of our hotel. If you ask the staff, I'm sure they will connect you with my room or Michael's." She adds after a moment of hesitation. One of the room numbers was bound to be changed based on the petitioning she had done the other evening before being confined to the same room. The staff had readily promised her two separate rooms upon their return. Would they really make good on their vow? Bonnie can't quite predict for certain. Still, she rested assured that the front desk would give out their names and connect the telephone calls to the according room.

Bonnie refused to leave Stevens's house without mentioning to Grace that she intended to return the next morning. For which, Grace thanked her at least fifteen times. It seemed female companionship did them both well in such trying circumstances. As Devon predicted, Bonnie's presence had been soothing.