Author's note: My last update to this series was 13 October 2001 - almost 24 years ago! I had forgotten the series until a SteeleWatcher reminded me that I had promised more to the story at that time. So, I read the series again, and came up with this story - I won't promise another chapter (although I do have the gem of an idea for one), but I hope this one is worth the wait. - Krebbie

"Is it good to be home?" Harry asked Laura as the cab drove through the streets toward the hotel.

"It's like a different place," she told him. "Lots of changes - you know, I always thought Los Angeles was the biggest place in the world. But after seeing London and Paris and -"

"Hong Kong?" he suggested with a smile.

Laura smiled as well. "And Hong Kong," she nodded before continuing, "Now, it doesn't seem so big. There have been a lot of changes in the last four years." He lifted his arm to place it around her shoulders, and grimaced slightly. Seeing it, Laura frowned with concern. "Are you sure you're healed enough to do this?"

"I'm fine," he assured her. "It was a long airplane ride. Just a bit - stiff, that's all." He pulled her closer and placed his lips near her ear to keep the driver from overhearing, "And how can you ask that, considering the month we just spent in Hong Kong, eh?" Memory of that glorious month, much of which had found them remaining in their hotel room, since it had rained most of that time, made Laura blush, and Harry lifted her chin with a soft laugh. "Don't ever loose that ability, love."

"Everytime I think I have no more reason to blush, you find another way to give me reason to," she admitted.

"Then I'll have to make sure not to lose *that* ability, won't I?" He lifted her hand to his lips. "Do you ever miss it?" he asked, indicating the city around them.

"No."

"That sounded quite definite. You don't see yourself living here again?"

"Only if you were here, too."

"Maybe one day," he mused. "When we're *both* ready to settle someplace -"

"Oh my! Look at that!" Laura declared, her attention seemingly focused on the view outside. "They tore down the old rockhouse!"

Harry sighed, used to her deflection whenever he talked about his feelings or settling down, retiring from the life. The cab turned into the drive of the hotel and came to a stop in front of the doors. "Here we are, folks," the driver told them.

Having packed light, Harry carried the large suitcase into the hotel while Laura took his smaller travel bag. Harry handed the driver his fee and a moderate tip. "Have a good day," he said, accompanying Laura into the building where she went directly to the desk. Harry dropped the suitcase off beside her, and she smiled.

"Thank you for your help," she said as he walked away toward the elevators. "Ilsa Lund," she told the clerk. "I have a reservation."

While Laura took care of checking in, Harry stood near the elevators and surveyed the hotel lobby, looking for two familiar faces. "You'll be in Room 146, Miss Lund," the clerk informed her. "I'll have someone help you with your luggage -"

"I can handle it," Laura replied, picking up the suitcase and bag. At the elevators, she pushed the button and murmured, "One forty six."

"I'll see you in a minute," he told her.

"Do you see our friends?"

"No, but be careful."

"You too," she told him as the elevator doors opened and she entered.

Harry moved toward the stairway door, still keeping an eye out before slipping inside to take the two flights of stairs, coming out in the corridor behind Laura. He caught up with her as she was unlocking the door into the room and slipped inside.

He looked around the room. "Small, but serviceable," he stated.

"It's *tiny*!" she declared. "I guess I'm too used to going first class these days."

"Ah, but it has the one item that we'll get the most use out of, love," he told her, sliding his arms around her as he spoke.

"What's that?"

"A bed," he answered, picking her up and carrying her in that direction.

"I thought we were supposed to be making plans?"

"Ah, Laura. Don't you realize by now that I do my best planning with you by my side?" he asked her, dropping her onto the mattress before joining her. *Close* by my side?"

"So this is - pre-planning?" she suggested, sliding her arms around his neck.

"Indeed. So you see -"

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

***

Harry came out of the shower later, pausing as he caught sight of Laura. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and she was wearing large, dark-framed glasses. "What do you think?" she asked, wearing a pair of dark slacks, white shirt, and a black jacket, and holding a notebook and pen. "Will I pass as a journalist?"

"I think so. But don't forget to remove the glasses at least once to give Mr. Hunter the full effect of those soft, mesmerizing brown eyes," he told her, moving to touch her chin. "I still have reservations about your being alone - if Kessler and Neff are here -"

"They'll never recognize me in this get up," she told him. "They only saw me in Paris wearing expensive clothes and my hair down. And no glasses. So I'll see them before they recognize me. What are you going to be doing while I'm prying information from the man who brought the gems here?"

"Scouting out the security arrangements, of course," he answered. "And remember, if you happen to see me -"

"We're total strangers," she nodded.

"Okay, Miss Lund, you'd better get going." As she reached for the doorknob, he said, "And do be careful, eh?"

She turned to look at him, her eyes serious. "You do the same."

"Eyes in the back of my head, I promise." What he really wanted to do was lock her in this room so she'd be safe instead of standing there and watching her walk out into the very real possibility of danger from Raymond Kessler and Leo Neff. Steady old boy, he thought. Eyes on the prize. Laura was capable of taking care of herself. If they were going to be successful, neither of them needed to allow any distractions.

***

Laura studied the posterboard sitting outside of the ballroom of the hotel. It was an advertisement for the upcoming unveiling of Gordon Hunter's new car the Hunter Jetstar 6000, with the promise of the appearance of "Royal Lavulite". Entering the ballroom, she looked around, both for Kessler and Neff as well as Gordon Hunter. Hunter was standing between a small covered display case and a car that was similarly covered.

She moved around the car, pretending to examine its lines under the tarp until Hunter finally noticed her. It gave her the opportunity to keep an eye on the doors while gathering information. "I'm sorry, Miss," Hunter said. "The exhibit doesn't open until tomorrow evening -"

"I'm a reporter," she informed him, showing him a badge to confirm it. "Your office said they had arranged for me to interview you about your car."

He smiled, nodding. "Miss - Lund, right? *Ilsa* Lund?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "And before you ask, the name *is* from 'Cassablanca'. My parents were huge Bogart fans."

"I really hadn't made the connection," he confessed. "But thank you for the explanation."

"Is this a good time for us to talk?" she asked. "You do seem to be busy -"

"Never too busy for the press," he assured her, indicating the steps leading up to the raised platform under the car. "Ask your questions."

"I've heard that this car is - unique."

"It's one of a kind," he confirmed. "I'm not sure anyone has seen anything like it."

"I'm looking forward to seeing it," she told him. "How did you come to choose to display the Royal Lavulite with the car? I'm not sure I get the connection there."

"Well, the gems are the rarest gems in the world, Pairing them with the world's rarest car seemed like a good idea. Have you ever seen them?"

"No," she answered, shaking her head as she wrote down his answer. "Oh, I've seen photographs, of course."

"Photographs don't do them justice," Hunter insisted.

"Then you've seen them?"

"No. They're only arriving in Los Angeles tomorrow -" he glanced at his wristwatch. "I have to go with the security people to the airport shortly so they can show me how they're going to get the gems to the hotel security office."

"Who's handling the security measures for the gems?"

"The Havenhurst Detective Agency," he answered, and Laura nodded, smiling and writing in the notebook she was carrying. Before she had left with Harry, she had applied to Havenhurst, but had been turned down, told to reapply for an apprenticeship in a few months.

"Ouch." Removing her glasses, Laura blinked. "Sorry. I think I have something in my eye," she told him.

"Here, let me look," Hunter offered, leaning forward to look into her eyes. "Which one?"

"The right one," she told him.

"I don't see anything - except that you're very attractive without those glasses."

"Tha-thank you," Laura said, pretending to be embarrassed as she put the glasses on again. "Are you worried about the possibility of the gems being stolen?" she asked. "There's been an attempt made in the last three locations where they've been displayed."

"I'm aware of that, and frankly, I'm terrified. The only insurance I could get only covers half of the value of the gems. If someone manages to steal them, I'm on the hook for one point three million."

"Oh my. Do you *have* that much money?"

Gordon Hunter snorted with laughter. "Hardly. That's why I hired what I was told was the best agency in the city to protect them. And speaking of - I'd better get a move on."

"I still have questions -"

"Well, if you would agree to have dinner with me this evening, I'll do my best to answer all of them."

"If I say yes, what would be the chances of my getting a 'sneak peak' at what's under that tarp?" she asked, glancing at the car.

"I think something could be arranged," he promised. "Oh, and - all that I told you about the insurance - it's not for publication."

"It's off the record," she assured him. "I didn't even write it down."

"I'll meet you in the hotel dining room at - five this evening," he told her before leaving her standing beside the car.

Stepping down, she caught sight of two men standing just outside of the ballroom doors. They were facing away from the room, but Laura easily recognized the two men as Raymond Kessler and Leo Neff. Looking around, she dove behind the case that would hold the gems, hoping that they wouldn't decide to come into the room.

"Ain't no one in here," Neff declared from the doorway.

"Sign says it doesn't open until tomorrow evening - let's ask some questions, shall we?" Kessler suggested, turning away from the doors to survey the lobby.

"No one's gonna tell us anything! Best thing we can do is keep hidden until we get a chance at the gems!" he hissed.

Kessler turned to look at him. "Would you be quiet?!" He looked quickly around them to make sure no one had overheard his partner's slip. "Come on, we'll order something from room service and have it sent to our room," he decided, steering Neff toward the elevators and savagely pressing the button.

***

Laura had slipped out of the door from the ballroom into the kitchen, moving between busboys and waitstaff to the door out into the hotel's restaurant. Keeping an eye out, she walked through the hotel to the lobby - hiding behind an oversized potted plant to look for Kessler and Neff.

She finally located them heading toward the elevators. Using other people, luggage racks and furniture, Laura moved to a spot where she could see them get into the elevator without being seen by the two men. The doors opened, then closed, and Laura stood there, watching as the indicator moved up the line of floor numbers, finally stopping on the third floor.

She made beeline for the stairs, never seeing the second elevator open or Harry stepping out to look around the lobby.

Six flights of stairs later, Laura opened the stairway door and peered out into the hallway, listening as she tried to catch her breath. Stepping out, she took a few steps toward the nearest corner, and then ducked back as she saw the two men standing in the corridor. Well, one of them was standing, and the other was kneeling in front of the closed door.

"I thought you said you had the key when we came out?"

"And I thought you had it, mate!"

"Give me a second," Kessler said.

"I'm waitin', mate."

"I'm getting there, just hold your horses - There!" The door opened, and he stepped aside. "After you."

"Good thing. I was getting ready to make a trip back downstairs to get some food."

"That's all you have on your mind."

Laura stifled her laughter over the fact that Kessler had had difficulty opening a lock that even *she* could have opened blindfolded. Quickly, she moved down the hallway, glancing at the room number on the door before quietly turning around and returning to take the elevator back down to the first floor.

***

"Harry?" she called as she closed the door behind her. There was the barest edge of something under a heavy ashtray on the nightstand, and with a smile, she pulled out the slip of paper.

"Gone to scout."

She smiled, recognizing the handwriting. Seeing the matchbook beside the ashtray, she placed the paper into the glass dish, then set fire to it, letting it turn to ash. Then she opened the window and dumped the ash tray, watching the bits flutter away.

A man was down near the street, using a camera to take a picture of a woman and two children, looking for all the world as though he was a tourist, snapping a photo of his family. Laura wondered what he was really taking a picture of. Knowing that he would tell her when he got back to the room, she pulled the pins out of her hair and kicked off her shoes before padding into the bathroom to take a shower.

She had plans to seduce Harry before meeting Gordon Hunter for dinner, after all.

***

"Look who's 'ere, mate!" Neff declared as he looked out of the window while they waited for the food to be delivered.

Kessler joined him, his eyes narrowing. "I thought you finished him in London!"

"'e's got more lives than a bloody cat!" Slipping the knife from his pocket, he declared, "First Rome, then Paris, and then London. 'e gets in our way this time, I'll cut his throat and make sure 'e's done for."

"Com'on, Leo," Kessler said, pulling him toward the door.

"Our food -"

"What's more important? Feeding your stomach or finding out where he's staying?" When Leo hesitated for a second, Kessler grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the room and toward the elevators.

***

Harry paid the woman and her children for posing for him, smiling at the little girl as they moved away. Another vehicle pulled up to a service entrance, and he quickly snapped a last picture of the driver pulling a laundry cart from the back of the van before he returned to the hotel, hoping that Laura would have returned with some information - and that she was in the mood to hop into bed for the afternoon.

As always, he scanned the lobby for danger, but saw nothing before pressing the elevator button. When it opened, he got inside, and pushed the button for the first floor as he checked out the camera. Looking up and down the hallway on the first floor, he knelt and picked the lock, entering the room.

Neff would have lunged toward the room headfirst, but Kessler stopped him, grabbing his partner's shirt. "Ain't we goin' to get rid of 'im?" Neff questioned, that deadly knife appearing in his hand.

"I just wanted to see where he's staying - I have another idea. Let's go upstairs and I'll explain while we eat."

"The food'll be cold by now," Leo complained.

"We ordered cold cuts," Ray told him. "So it won't matter."

***

"What are you going to do while I'm using my feminine charm to get the information we need from Gordon Hunter?" Laura asked as she pulled on the one evening dress that she'd brought with her. "Zip me up, please?"

"I'd much rather you take it off altogether and have another go'round," he murmured, leaning forward as he sat on the edge of the bed to press his lips against the bare skin of her back, feeling her shiver before he pulled the zipper up and fastened the hook and eye at the top.

Laura turned, her arms around his neck. "And if I did that, I would be late for my dinner with Gordon Hunter - and then how would I get the information we need?"

Harry sighed regretfully, watching as she pulled on some stockings and stepped into the strappy high-heel shoes. "I suppose you're right. As for what I'll be doing, I'm going to go see if Maudie's about. I've used her photography shop before when I was working Los Angeles."

"It's hard to believe that we were both here before yet never met until that night in Wilson's apartment," she said, opening the small jewelry case to remove a diamond and emerald necklace and matching earrings.

"Uh uh," Harry said, deftly plucking the necklace from her hand. "A poor as dirt reporter might be excused dressy earrings - but a necklace?" he shook his head. "Besides, I might have another plan for this," he told her, studying the gems.

"That's my favorite necklace!" she insisted. "You bought it for me in Nice -"

"And it will be perfectly safe, love," he assured her. "And if it's not, I'll simply buy you another one, - with larger stones."

His last words took away her consternation and replaced it with a smile as she slid back into his arms and gave him a kiss. "Gives me something to look forward to."

Harry used his thumb to smooth her lipstick, then slapped her silk-clad bottom. "Go on now. Enjoy dinner. Don't forget the glasses." She slowly stood and grabbed the glasses. "And if he becomes too insistent -"

Laura lifted her hand, to show him the ring on her finger. "He'll sleep like a baby," she promised, blowing him a kiss. "See you later."

***

"You look lovely," Gordon told Laura as she arrived at their table.

"Sorry I'm late - took me longer than I expected to pull myself together."

"It was worth the effort," was his reply, taking a sip of wine. "I took the liberty of ordering you some wine -"

"Thank you." She took an obligatory sip. "How did your test run go?"

He smiled. "Wonderfully. I'm more convinced than ever that I hired the right agency to protect the gems."

"How long will the Royal Lavulite be in Los Angeles?" she asked.

"They'll pick it up early tomorrow afternoon, and deliver it back to the airport the next morning," he answered, clearly feeling expansive and relaxed.

"So it will be here in the hotel safe overnight?"

"And under guard," he nodded.

"Would you be willing to - show me where they'll be? I'm just curious - and my article won't be published until after tomorrow night, so, what harm can there be?"

"All right. After dinner, I'll show you were the security office is, -"

"And then you'll show me the Jetstar 6000?" Laura asked rather breathlessly, her eyes wide behind the glasses.

"Have you ever had a dream, Miss Lund - Ilsa?" he wanted to know.

"I'm living my dream," she answered. Being with Harry, seeing the world, stopping for a bit of excitement on occasion-

"So your dream was to be a reporter?"

Laura took another sip of wine before answering. "Of course. Isn't that every girl's dream?" she said, laughing softly. "What's your dream - Gordon?"

"To build a car. Not just *any* car. I spent ten years working for the big three automakers, learning how to build a car from the ground up, learning what they were doing right - and finding what they were doing wrong. I started welding door panels on the assembly line, and I dreamed of having my name on the finest automobile ever built. I went to engineering school at night, I even took speech lessons so that people would listen to WHAT I said instead of HOW I said it. I averaged 3 hours of sleep a night for 6 years until I was running a division of my own. I've mortgaged everything but my vital parts to get this beauty launched. I managed to get a loan to retool an entire factory to build the car I designed. I wanted it to be unlike - anything anyone has ever seen before. And I think I've done that. But it's a tough business to break into. I've invited automobile dealers and money-men from all over the country to be here tomorrow night to witness what I think is a total breakthrough in auto design. It's more than a breakthrough," he declared. "It's a jump years into the future."

Laura reached out and covered his hand with hers, stroking it softly, shivering as she listened to him speak. "Wow," she sighed. "I can't wait to see your car, Gordon," she told him, pulling back as the waiter appeared to take their dinner order.

***

Harry gave Maude a few dollars to use her darkroom - even though she said it wasn't necessary, and set out developing the roll of film from the afternoon's outing. He saw Hunter in a dark limo with another man, and an armored car from which it seemed an army of guards appeared, carrying a small metal box as they all entered the hotel. As they entered the second man had turned to glance at the laundry service truck which was just being opened by a blonde haired man.

A frown appeared as Harry studied the prints. Laundry trucks didn't usually stop at the front door of a hotel - but at the service entrance. So why was this bloke using the front, he wondered. Once all of the prints and enlargements were dry, Harry gave the sixty year old Maude a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for the use of the hall, Maudie," he said.

"Anytime, Harry."

***

"That's the security office," Gordon told her, indicating the closed door across the hall. "Inside is the hotel safe, where people store their valuables instead of in their rooms."

"I've always wondered if hotels really had something like that for their guests," Laura told him. "I thought maybe it was just and old wives' tale." Looking around, she said, "I don't see any guards -"

"The room is locked - but there's no reason for extra security right now, since the gems aren't arriving until tomorrow."

"That's right," she nodded, swaying slightly.

Gordon put a steadying arm around her waist. "Are you okay, Ilsa?"

"I'm fine. I think it's the wine. I don't usually drink. I still want to see your -" This time, she deliberately paused before finishing, "-car, Gordon."

Keeping his arm around her waist, Gordon led her across the lobby and slipped into the dark ballroom. Pulling her closer, he said, "I'll turn on the lights," but instead Laura found herself in his arms, his lips against hers.

This was the part of a con that Laura didn't like - having to let another man hold her and kiss her. She knew that Harry didn't have any reservations about seducing a mark, but for Laura, it was distasteful. It told her that she was definitely a one-man woman. And that man was Harry. Needing to end Gordon Hunter's pawing at her, Laura moaned slightly. "I don't feel good."

Gordon kept an arm around her as he reached out to turn on the lights directly above the car. "Come on," he told her, grabbing a chair from one of the tables in the room and dragging it across the carpeted floor, putting it down near the Jetstar. "Have a seat," he told her, making sure she was settled.

"I'm - sorry," she apologized. "Wine's never affected me like this - I guess I shouldn't have had that last glass."

Gordon went down on one knee beside the chair. "You know, I think I'd rather you be sober when you see the car. Why don't we go up to my room for a few minutes, and you'll see the car tomorrow when the world sees it."

"That - might be - for the best," Laura agreed, wincing as she nodded her head.

***

Harry had snagged a red jacket worn by hotel employees, and clipped a hastily-made identification badge onto a lapel seconds before the elevator doors opened on the basement level. There was no one about - it *was* dinner time, after all - so he entered the maintenance closet, quickly getting his bearings in the dim light.

There were several large books on an out of the way table, and he easily located the one which contained a layout of the air conditioning vents. The dimensions of the vents were there as well. They were small, barely large enough, truth be told, but he thought he would be able to manage. Finding the security office, he located the vent location, and traced it through the rooms, a smile appearing as he found what he was looking for. He knew that Laura's smaller size would make it easier for her to do this, but he also had a feeling that he was going to need her for another task if they were going to pull this off.

Leaving the closet, he decided to take the stairs up to the lobby and have a quick look around. Removing the red jacket, he turned it so that the red wasn't as noticeable and draped it over his arm as he opened the door and stepped out. He saw Laura and Hunter moving across the lobby, saw Laura's steps wobble a bit while Hunter kept her upright. Hearing her giggle, Harry realized that she was pretending to be slightly inebriated to lure her dinner companion into her parlor.

"Sorry," she apologized, moving to put her arms on his shoulders as they stood in front of the elevators.

"It's quite alright, Ilsa," Hunter assured her.

"I'm sure I'll be fine once we get up to your room," she said, and Harry gave her a look from his position behind a potted plant as one of her hands moved down Hunter's chest and curled around to grab the man's buttock, causing him to gasp in surprise.

"Ilsa!" he choked out as the doors opened and he was able to pull her into the lift.

Harry's last sight of them was Laura pulling Gordon Hunter's head down to hers. For a brief second, he saw red and very nearly turned back to the stairs with the intention of beating them up to the fifth floor to make sure that Laura was safe. But he stopped himself, acknowledging that the lady was quite capable of taking care of herself - as she had told him more than once.

So he took a deep breath and stepped out - only for his gaze to fall on a familiar face. Ducking behind a luggage cart that was sitting next to him, Harry watched as South African Special Agent Benjamin Pearson checked into the hotel. He'd never met the man, only used his name on occasion. Harry had expected that Pearson would put in a personal appearance, considering the number of attempts that had been made to steal the gems. It had been for that reason that he had opted not to use the name. Luckily, he had another rabbit to pull out of his hat. Making a mental note of Pearson's room number, Harry decided to return to the room and start planning how he was going to get his hands on the gems.

***

Laura gasped when Gordon opened the door into his room. "You have a suite!" she declared, stepping forward and nearly falling. "Wooo!" she said as Gordon caught her in his arms. "What a sweet suite," she said, giggling again. "Sweet suite," she repeated. "Sounds like a bird - oh, no, they go tweet, don't they?" She dropped onto the sofa. "Whoa. The room's starting to spin."

Gordon went to the bar and a moment later, Laura jumped as there was a loud "POP!"

"Is someone shooting?" she asked, only halfway watching as he poured champagne into two glasses that he then brought over to hand one of them to her.

"Here you go."

She looked at his hand holding the glass, then held hers out, missing the glass. "Which one is it?" Smiling, he put the glass directly into her hand. "The middle one," she announced, and would have tossed the sparkling wine back, but Gordon quickly sat beside her to prevent the movement. "Wha-?"

"We have to toast something if we're drinking champagne."

Laura lifted the glass. "To the Jet-Star," she declared, lifting her glass to try and tap it against Gordon's- but missing and spilling the champagne on her dress, hiding her distress about ruining the silk behind another drunken giggle. "Ooops," she moaned.

"Here, let me take that," Gordon suggested, plucking the empty glass from her hand to place it on the table. "Your dress needs cleaned - I'll call room service and have them -"

Another giggle - Laura was starting to wonder how much longer she could hope to carry this off - "I'd have to take it off first," she told him.

"The bedroom is through that door - there's a robe on the bed that you can use." He helped her to her feet and to the door, opening it for her. "Do you need help?" he asked.

She had already begun trying to unfasten the hook at the back -without apparent success. Swaying slightly, she put her hands on her hips and turned her head to look behind her. "Would mind - unfas'nig and starting the zip-per?"

"My pleasure," he told her, quickly undoing the hook and pulling the zipper down.

"Thank you," she said, her hands moving to keep the front of the dress from slipping down.

Gordon smiled. "I'll be out here. Just bring the dress out when you come out."

"Yep."

Laura lowered the dress to the floor, laying it on the turned down bed before grabbing the terrycloth robe. It was much nicer than the one she had in her room - probably the difference between a double and a suite.

"You okay in there?" Gordon asked, and Laura grabbed the dress before opening the door, managing to stagger a little as she returned to the living room. "There you are. I called room service, someone should be here any minute to take your dress -"

Laura sank back onto the sofa as though the effort to remain standing was beyond her current ability. "You're sweet, Gordon," she told him.

"I took the liberty of pouring you another glass of champagne while you were changing -" he lifted both glasses, only to sigh with obvious frustration as there was a knock on the door. "I'll be right back," he assured her, picking up the gown as he went to the door.

Moving quickly, Laura opened the secret compartment of the ring she was wearing, emptying the contents inside into one of the glasses. Picking up the other one, she was leaning back on the sofa and running her finger around the rim when Gordon returned.

"Now, where were we?" he asked.

"Drinking - Drinking cham-pagne," she said, lifting her glass. "There was a toast -"

"To the JetStar 6000," he reminded her, taking a sip from his glass. "And now it's my turn. To the rest of the evening. May it be as - fulfilling as the rest of the evening has been."

Laura took another sip of her champagne while Gordon emptied his. "Hmm," she told him, putting the glass onto the table, "I like the way you think." Lunging forward, she pushed him onto his back and lay on top of him, kissing him. "I've never slept with an auto -mobile ty-tycoon," she told him, covering his face with kisses. "Take me to bed, Gordon."

His eyes widened as he managed to scramble out from under her and grabbed her hand. "Are you sure about - about this?"

Laura knew she didn't have much time until the powder began to take affect, and let the robe open just enough for him to be able to see that she wasn't wearing a bra. Gordon swallowed heavily before pulling her into the bedroom and began removing his own clothing while Laura sank onto the bed in a sexy pose.

"You're not as a drunk as you pretended to be, are you?" he asked, trying to untie his shoe laces.

"I needed to get my courage up," she told him. "I wasn't sure you'd be interested in a poor little reporter when you're probably used to ladies dripping in diamonds and furs -"

He tried to get out of his trousers, but managed to become tangled up in the legs before kicking his way out, and stood there wearing briefs and a teeshirt - and his socks. Coming over to the bed, he laughed, running a hand down her shoulder. She was grateful for that - it gave her a reason for shivering, instead of those socks. "Not really. I've spent most of my life working toward my dream. I have to find pleasure whenever it comes."

"Like now?" Laura asked, sliding her arm around his neck, rubbing behind his neck in a rhythmic movement.

"Whenever," he nodded, his eyes starting to glaze over. "Ilsa," he whispered.

"Yes, Gordon?" she replied, lowering his head down to the pillow. "We're going to make love now, Gordon, and when you wake up, you'll be refreshed and ready for tomorrow."

He murmured happily, smiling. Laura waited a few minutes before covering him with the blankets, making sure the proof of her having been there was revealed by the rumpled pillow beside him. There was a vase containing roses on the dresser, and she crossed the room to grab one bloom to carry back to the bed, placing it on the pillow.

Using the robe, she wiped down the inside and outside of the doorknob, closing it behind her. She quickly rinsed out Gordon's glass, then refilled it with most of what had been in her glass, saving the last sip for herself, using the robe again to wipe the outside of her glass.

Finally, she wiped the knob of the main doorway as she left the room, smiling at the "Do Not Disturb" sign that she had seen Gordon placed there upon their entrance. Opting for the stairs, she took them down to the first floor, nodding pleasantly at the one couple she saw in the hallway.

At the door, she was just about to remove a hairpin to use on the door when the maid appeared, pushing her cart. The woman's surprise at finding a guest standing in the hallway wearing a bathrobe was quickly hidden. "May I help you, miss?" she asked.

Laura laughed. "I'm a little embarrassed, to tell you the truth. I was in my room, about to take a bath when I thought I heard someone knocking on the door. I stepped out of the room and the door closed behind me - I don't have my key -"

"Which room?" the woman asked.

"This one. One forty-six."

The maid gave her a look, then pulled the passkey from her pocket, putting it into the doorknob. "There you go."

Laura grabbed the door to keep it open. "Thank you *so* much," she told the woman.

"You're welcome, ma'am. It's not the first time something like this has happened. People are always forgetting that the door locks behind them until you set it not to. Have a nice evening."

"You too," Laura replied, entering the room and closing the door, leaning against it for a second. It was obvious that Harry wasn't there - since the bathroom door was open and he hadn't come out. He was probably scouting the security office, she decided, letting the robe slip from her shoulders and kicking off her shoes. After dealing with that octopus, she needed a shower.

***

"You say that you're with Interpol, Mr.-"

Harry smiled, taking out the identification again and handing it to Ben Pearson. "Nelson," he said. "Nigel Nelson. Yes. I'm a special agent," he continued, taking the wallet back. "I've just been assigned to help you protect the Royal Lavulite, since there have already been so many attempts to steal them in the last year."

"I wasn't aware that I needed any help," Pearson commented archly. "Be that as it may, how did you know that I had arrived?"

"I was in the lobby after having my dinner when I saw you checking in-"

"Why didn't you approach me then instead of waiting?"

"It's the way I work. I prefer not to have meetings in public locations. Since I expected that we would be discussing any security arrangements, it would be best to do that in a more private setting."

"I hate to disappoint you, but since I've only just arrived, I don't have any information about the security arrangements. I'm supposed to meet tomorrow with the firm that was hired to take care of that - Havenhurst, I believe? Have you spoke to them yet?"

"No, and I doubt I will. I tend to stay on the outside, watching everyone instead of meeting them and allowing that connection to colour my actions."

"But you approached me."

"Since you're an outsider as well, I felt you would be the best one for me to contact. The gems are due at LAX early tomorrow afternoon, I believe."

"That's correct. And will leave from there the following morning, to be escorted by Havenhurst's operatives at both times. While they are here, they'll either be locked in the hotel's safe inside the security office, or on display in the events room with security present."

"Then you know as much as I do," Harry nodded. "Are you familiar with the names Raymond Kessler and Leo Neff?"

"I am indeed."

"They're here."

"How do you know?"

"I saw them earlier today in the lobby."

"And you didn't arrest them? They're both wanted -"

"For more than one murder," Harry confirmed. "I've checked - neither man is wanted here in the States - so I decided to keep an eye on them and wait for them to make an attempt to steal the gems before nabbing them."

"There's also another man in the mix - he impersonated me on at least one occasion."

"Was there a description?" Harry asked, pretending an interest in the view outside.

"Rather generic, I'm afraid. My build, general coloring."

Harry smiled. "Could fit anyone," he noted. "Including me." They both laughed softly.

"I did say that it was generic - and therefore not very much help."

"Back to Kessler and Neff - I do have their room number, but haven't had a chance to get into their room to search it for evidence -"

"I would appreciate it if you continue to watch them," Pearson told him. "What's the room number?"

"Three sixty-one."

"And your room number -?"

"Oh, I'm not staying at the hotel," Harry said quickly. "Anonymity is important in our line of work. I'm something of a chameleon - slipping into and out of whatever is needed to complete a task."

"And if I need to contact you?" Pearson asked.

"Just page a Mr. Wellington in the lobby." Harry extended his hand. "And now I'll go so you get some rest - it's a long flight from Capetown to Los Angeles."

"Yes, it was, but I managed to rest for most of the journey. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Possibly, but I hope not." Pearson frowned, clearly confused. "If we have to meet again, it will most likely be because someone's stolen the gems." He moved toward the door. "And I know it might be tempting, but I shouldn't confront Kessler or Neff alone if I were you. They've already killed at least three men, I doubt they would hesitate to add a fourth."

"Thank you for the reminder. I'll keep it in mind," was Pearson's response.

***

Harry took advantage of the hallway being empty, making short work of picking the lock to Room 146. He stopped to put the security chain onto the door, hearing the water running in the bath. He lifted the robe laying across the foot of the bed, then dropped it again as he began to remove his clothing, going into the bathroom. He quietly pulled the curtain aside and stepped over the tub and slid his arms around Laura's waist. "Surprise," he whispered into her ear as he began to nuzzle the side of her neck.

Smiling, Laura turned around, pulling his head down to capture his lips. "You know how much I *love* surprises," she told him…

***

"I needed that," Laura sighed as they lay in each other's arms. "He seemed like such a nice man, but he had no problem with taking advantage of a woman who had had too much to drink."

"He's a cad and a bounder," Harry declared.

"You would have done the same thing," she accused. "Don't deny it."

"I suppose I would use the knock-out drops," he agreed.

"You know what I mean. You've gone *much* farther to accomplish your goals."

"Only if necessary," he insisted. "You make it sound as though I try to bed every woman I see."

"Well?"

"Not anymore - you're the only woman I want in my bed, Laura," he told her, "Yes, before we met, I didn't shy away from using a woman if she was willing - but now, I tell them that I'm spoken for."

Laura reached up to place her hand against his head, tracing his ear with her finger. "What did you get up to while I was fighting off the octopus?" There it was, that change of subject at the mention of his feelings.

"Making a new friend." He told her about meeting with Ben Pearson as Nigel Nelson.

"Interpol Investigator Nigel Nelson?" she asked.

"The one and the same."

"You're *very* lucky that Pearson doesn't know him personally. The man's been around For*ever*."

"Before we left Hong Kong, I got wind that Nelson is in South America on a prolonged investigation. So I was sure that I was safe using the name."

"I thought you were going to scout out a way to access the security office?"

"I did. Should be a piece of cake. There's access via an air duct from the maintenance closet two doors down from the security office. I will need your help to jump the security alarm from the roof," he explained, showing her the sketches he had done up before going to Pearson's room. "The hardest part will be getting into the safe itself - I'd like a look at it before tomorrow night -"

"I thought that was why you kept my necklace earlier?"

"Decided that it wouldn't work, since I'm not registered as a guest."

"But I am," she reminded him with a smile.

"So you are." He returned her smile, tossing the note pad to the side before reaching out to turn off the light. "That's what I love about you, Laura," he murmured. "Always coming up with a plan."

***

"May I help you?" a young man behind the desk asked Laura the next morning.

"Yes, well, I hope so," she replied, sliding the thin case across the counter. "I'd like to put this into the hotel safe."

"Are you registered here, Miss -?"

"Lund, Ilsa Lund. I'm in Room 146."

He examined the register. "You registered yesterday afternoon," he noted. "But didn't put it into the safe then?"

"Well, I wore it last night, and I barely slept, worrying that someone might have seen it and decide to try to break into my room to steal it -" she opened the case to reveal the emerald and diamond necklace - with the matching earrings. "It was a gift from - from my grandmother, and I'd never be able to face her if anything happened to them."

"I'll make sure they're placed in the hotel safe, Miss Lund," he assured her, starting to take the case.

But she placed her hand on it. "No. I need to - isn't there anyway that I can *see* it put into the safe?" she asked. "No reflection on you -" she glanced at his name tag - "George, but I've heard stories -"

"No one is supposed to be in the security office except for hotel employees or security personnel, Miss Lund."

Reaching into her pocket, she brought out a hundred dollar bill, sliding it across the counter toward him. "Please?"

George looked up and down the desk before covering the money with his hand and sliding it toward himself. "Miss Green," he said to the only other employee in sight, "I'll be right back." Picking up the dark green leather case, he opened the 'gate' to let himself out from behind the counter. "If you'll follow me, Miss Lund."

Laura waited while George unlocked the door to the security room, then entered, looking around - first at the air vent in the ceiling, with a conveniently located file cabinet positioned beneath it; then at the safe, which George had to find on the keyring in his hand. He made a show of putting her necklace inside, and Laura moved around the door to make sure it was really there. She nodded her approval, then watched him lock the door.

"Thank you so much, George. I feel much better now, knowing that my necklace and earrings are secure."

"Come back to the desk and I'll write you out a receipt," he told her.

After signing the slip of paper, Laura took the elevator back upstairs. As she turned the corner leading to the room, she saw Gordon Hunter coming down the hall from that direction. He looked a tad pale, and slightly embarrassed, she thought as she smiled. "Gordon! This is a surprise!"

He held out a hanger with her dinner gown on it, covered with plastic. "I thought you might want this," he told her.

"Yes. Thank you. I was wondering if I would get it back before the party tonight -"

"I almost sent it down here by hotel employee," he confessed. "I wasn't sure you'd want to see me after - after what happened."

She took the dress over her arm, and reached out to touch his face. "You have nothing to apologize for, Gordon," she assured him. "It was a lovely evening."

"But I -"

"It takes two," she told him, running her thumb over his lower lip. "Are you ready for the big day?" she asked.

He finally exhaled and smiled. "Yes. I just got word that everything's on time. I'd offer lunch, but I'm going to be busy until the reception this evening."

"I understand. But I'll see you this evening, won't I?" she straightened his tie. "I mean, I'm still looking forward to seeing your car." Using the tie, she gave him a quick kiss before releasing him and moving toward her room, taking the key out of the pocket of her slacks, ready for a fast entry.

"I thought the blighter was never going to stop knocking," Harry told her once the door closed behind her.

She smiled. "He brought my dress to me," she explained. "I told you that I spilled champagne on it when I was in his room -" There was a knock at the door, and Laura asked, "Who is it?"

"Gordon."

"For goodness sake," Harry grumbled as he grabbed the papers he'd spread out across the table and made a bee-line for the bathroom.

"Just a second!" Laura called, laying the dress on the bed. Once the door closed behind Harry, she opened the door.

"Sorry - I meant to see if I could get my -robe back?"

"I would, but - I sent it in with the maid this morning. She said they would get it back to you after it was cleaned."

He looked slightly disappointed, but nodded. "Okay. Well, then, I guess I'll see you later, then."

Harry came back out of the bathroom as Laura closed the door and leaned against it. "He's really sweet, I guess."

"Last night, you claimed he tried to -"

"Oh, he did. But he was so sweet just now, trying to apologize."

Harry pulled her into his arms and gave her a long kiss. "He's still a cad and a bounder -"

"Trust me," she assured him, her arms around his neck, "I could never make love with a man who wears his socks in bed."

Another kiss, and he gave a regretful sigh. "We'll continue this later," he promised, spreading the papers out again. "What happened downstairs?"

"There's a file cabinet under the air vent."

He gave her the pencil. "Show me."

***

Once the plan was set, Harry gave Laura a list of items to pick up for him, and where to get them. "Don't forget the steamer trunk," he insisted. "Put everything inside and then have it brought up to the room via the service entrance if possible."

"Where are you going to be?" she wanted to know, studying the list.

"Keeping an eye out for the arrival of the Royal Lavulite, of course. I want another look at that linen truck that I saw yesterday -"

"Be careful," she said, grabbing her purse and putting the list inside. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

***

Harry, wearing the red jacket that he purloined the previous day, stood behind a van near the entrance, watching as the dark limousine rolled to a stop. Just ahead of the armored car. Two men exited the limo, waiting for the guards to unload the black metal box. A white laundry truck rolled past the limo, pulling up to the curb. The driver got out, a blonde haired man wearing a white uniform. Laura had remembered him from her attempt to get hired at Havenhurst -Murphy something or other. He opened the back doors of the van and pulled out a wheeled cart laden with clean laundry, which he began to roll toward the closest entrance door.

Harry saw him glance toward the limo, and his gaze shifted to the tall, blonde haired man who seemed to reply with a wry smile as he, a heavyset dark man with a mustache and balding head accompanied several armed guards - one of them carrying the metal box - inside the hotel.

Glancing around, he began to wonder where Kessler and Neff might be - surely they would be interested in the arrival of the gems that they had been pursuing for so long, killing at least three men in that pursuit. Inside, Harry followed the man with the laundry cart, glad that the red jacket meant that no one gave him a second glance as he moved through areas marked as "Employees or Vendors Only". Finally, he saw Murphy roll the cart into a room marked "Linens", and come out a moment later with another cart. For a brief second, Harry thought he might have been mistaken - but instead of bringing the cart back toward the front, he continued down the hallway, stopping at the security room door, knocking one, then twice, before the door was opened by one of the men from the limo to admit him inside.

Harry moved down the hallway until Murphy, the two men from the limo, the security guards, and Gordon Hunter came out of the security office. "The guards will remain on watch in the lobby until it's time to take the gems into the ballroom," the tall blonde haired man told Hunter. "And they'll remain there while the gems are on display."

"Thank you, Mr. Grievey," Hunter said, shaking both men's hands. "I'll see you both later at the reception," he said before moving away.

The dark haired man sighed. "Am I invisible, Alan?" he asked. "I mean, no one ever thanks me, just you."

"Anytime you'd like to change things, Donald, you're free to do so," was Grievey's answer as the two men entered the lobby.

Harry shook his head, thinking that Laura had been lucky to avoid working for them as he saw Laura enter the lobby and head toward the desk, probably to ask them to have the steamer trunk brought up to her room. Ducking behind a plant, he slipped off the jacket and went toward the elevators, pressing the button to summon the lift.

He was waiting, hands clasped behind his back as Laura joined him. He smiled, nodding as though she was a perfect stranger. "Nice day," he said.

"Yes," Laura acknowledged.

The doors slid open, Harry lifted an arm to keep them from closing. "After you."

"Thank you." Inside, he allowed the doors to close while she pushed the button for the first floor. "I got everything," she told him.

"What reason did you give them downstairs for the trunk?"

She smiled. "Oh, that part was easy. I told them that the airline had lost the trunk, and that's why I only checked in with an overnight bag and a single suitcase. That went to the airline this morning to demand that they locate my trunk - and they were just getting ready to bring it over." As the doors opened, she told him, "We'd better get to the room - the woman at the desk said that someone would be right up with it."

Harry took her arm and the key, guiding her down the hallway where he unlocked the door and they both slipped inside. As soon as the door closed, Laura turned into his arms. "Did you find out what you wanted to know?"

"Hmm," he nodded before giving her a kiss. "I did." His eyes rolled upward at the sound of a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Laura called out, still in Harry's arms.

"I have your steamer trunk, Miss Lund."

Sighing, Laura reluctantly watched Harry move toward the bathroom, waiting until he closed the door before opening the other one and stepping back so that the young man could wheel the trunk into the room. Reaching into her purse, she brought out a twenty and handed it to him. "Thank you."

"No, thank *you*, ma'am," he said as he left the room and she closed the door, putting the security chain on the latch - then opening the door just enough to hang the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the knob.

Harry came out of the bathroom, examining the trunk. "Wheels?" he questioned.

"I thought it might be easier for one of us to move it, if it becomes necessary," she answered with a shrug and a smile, placing her arms around him. "Now, where were we?"

"About to discuss our next steps," he told her, turning the trunk over so that he could open it - only to discover that it was locked. He held out his hand. "Please?"

"I just wanted to make sure no one got inside and found out that there aren't clothes in there - but tools to steal those gems," she told him, opening the trunk before handing him the key.

"I saw your friend - the young man from the photograph -"

"Murphy," she recalled.

"Yes." He pulled out a small, blue velvet bag and emptied its contents onto the bed: six blue jewel-like stones. "This should do very nicely," he told her examining the faux gems in the light from the window.

"You're sure they'll pass for the real gems?" she asked.

"They won't have to. Once the box is opened, the real gems will already be in our hands," he told her, pulling out a pair of black slacks and a black turtleneck sweater. "I also saw the two men who turned you down for that apprenticeship -"

"I only met one of the owners - Alan Grievey." She frowned. "He made a pass at me - I guess I didn't handle it very well, since I didn't get the job."

Harry reached out to take her hand. "I'm sorry. I had no idea -"

Laura shook her head. "It was a different life," she told him. "I prefer the one I have now."

He lifted her hand to his lips and placed a kiss there. "I'm glad. Now," he declared, continuing to catalog the items she had purchased. "Did you talk to Maudie?" he asked.

"I did. She told me that you would know the number to call if we need her help."

"What time does the reception begin this evening?"

"Six." She glanced at her wristwatch. "Speaking of, I need to start thinking about getting ready." She opened the closet door, and gasped as she saw the man hanging inside the door. "Harry!" she cried out, but he was already there, holding her, keeping her head turned away from the grisly sight.

"Oh my."

"Who is it?" she asked, her voice a bit less shaky. "Do you know him?"

"I did. He's Special Agent Benjamin Pearson," he answered, moving to examine the body. "Feels like a knife wound," he told her. "I think Kessler and Neff just increased their body count to four."

"What are we going to do, Harry?" Laura asked. "You know they killed him somewhere else and put the body in here to trap you."

"Poor bugger," Harry sighed. "I wondered why he wasn't downstairs when the gems arrived. He told me last night that he would be." A sickening realization struck him and he sat heavily on the edge of the bed. "This is my fault, in a way."

Laura looked at him. "How? You didn't kill him!"

"No. But I told him where he could find the men who did. I knew Pearson would try to confront them alone. I told him that I didn't think it was a good idea -"

"And he obviously didn't listen."

"Thing is, I wanted him to confront them - to take them into custody. Thought maybe it would relax security on the bloody Lavulite," he told her. "If I'd thought for a moment that he couldn't handle it -"

Laura sat down beside him, holding onto him. It wasn't the first time that he had reacted like this to something. He might not admit it, but there was a good-sized thread of human decency in his soul. "If we could manage to get the body to their room, it would-"

"That's it, Laura!" Harry declared, standing up and quickly removing the rest of the items from the trunk before lifting one end and rolling it closer to the closet. "Would you get a towel from the bath, please?"

Laura rushed to get the towel. "You're not going to put the body into that trunk,-" she was saying as Harry took the towel and wrapped it around Pearson's back and chest. Reaching up, he slipped the collar of his jacket off of the hook on the door, letting him drop into the chest.

"It didn't happen very long ago," Harry told her. "Rigor mortis hasn't set in enough to keep him from fitting." After arranging and re-arranging, Harry and Laura finally managed to close and lock the trunk with Ben Pearson's dead body inside. "Now to get them out of their room for awhile. I'm afraid that you're going to have to be the bait, Laura."

She looked a bit wary at the thought of those two, but trying to frame Harry for murder was beyond the pale. "What do I have to do?"

"You begin by making a telephone call to their room," he began.

***

"Surely he's found the body by now," Ray said as he paced the room.

"I still say that we should've called the coppers -"

"We would have had to explain why we were down there," Ray explained. "Better that we're not involved.

"Could 'ave done it anon," Leo suggested. "Used one of the payphones downstairs -"

The telephone rang, and the two men stared at each other before Ray grabbed the receiver. "Hello?" he said abruptly into the telephone.

"This is Miss Devon at the desk downstairs, sir. There are some problems with your bill that need to be cleared up - if both of you could come down here, it shouldn't take very long."

"We'll be right down," Ray told her.

"Thank you, sir."

***

"I still don't like the smell of this, Ray," Leo was still fretting as the elevator doors opened. "Only thing we've ordered -" He nearly ran into Ray when the taller man suddenly stopped in his tracks. "What the -!"

Ray pointed at the woman who was getting out of the other elevator. She paused, then placed her purse over her shoulder before moving toward the front doors. "I've seen her before," Ray declared, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"She's the bird who was with that bloke in Paris!" Leo recalled.

Kessler's eyes hardened. "I knew I'd seen her before," he ground out. "She came out of the limey's room this morning when I was up there watching it for a good time to move -" His long legs moved swiftly toward the doors, seeing the woman get into a taxi just as Leo caught up. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"I don't think he's at the hotel. I think she'll lead us to him."

"That don't make sense, Ray," Leo insisted. "'E's prob'ly in the 'otel, plannin' -"

Ray pulled him into a second cab, telling the driver - "See that taxi up there? The blue one? Don't lose it." He held out a hundred dollar bill, ignoring Leo's surprised yell.

"What the -?"

Sitting back in the seat, Ray kept his gaze locked on that cab as he explained, "We can't do anything back at the hotel until after the banquet - so we'll take a nice little ride around town." He leaned down to say quietly, "Besides which, if she *is* someone important to *him*, she could be useful."

Leo nodded, grinning as he pulled the knife from his pocket and pushed the button to extend the blade.

***

"How long's it been since you were last here?" the driver asked Laura. "Four years," she told him. "Lots of changes."

"I don't know. Seems to me that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Buildings get knocked down to make way for more buildings. People leave, more people come in." He glanced in the mirror. "You told me not to lose that other taxi, right?"

She looked back to see that it was just three cars back. "Don't lose them, but don't let them get too close, either," she clarified.

"You in trouble?" he wanted to know, speeding up to pass a few more cars.

"Only if they catch up - and someone else might be if they don't," she stated with a smile. "I know it's confusing, but -"

"I've seen it all, trust me. That's one of the reasons why I like to drive a cab. Never know what might happen. I've driven kings and people who barely had the money for the fare."

Laura smiled as she listened, wondering what his connection was to Harry's friend Maude. She knew better than to ask - people on this side of the street didn't usually like to answer questions. So his next words surprised her.

"Maudie said that you're a friend of Harry's."

"I am," she confirmed.

"Always liked the kid," he said, and Laura grinned at the idea of anyone calling Harry a 'kid'.

"How long have you known him, Mr -" she leaned forward to read the last name on his license.

"Call me Gus," he insisted. "Everyone does. Oh, I guess the first time we met was - ten years ago. Maudie and I were working in London at the time."

"So you've known Maudie longer," Laura realized. "She seemed nice when I met her earlier today."

"Maudie's the sweetest, nicest person I've ever met," Gus declared, still watching the rear-view mirror while he talked. "Don't get me wrong - she can take care of herself - and if you get her angry, watch out." He smiled. "But I wouldn't trade her for anything. Best thing we did was to make the decision to get out of the life. Came here, Maudie bought that camera shop and I bought a taxi and started driving."

"But - if you're out of the life -"

"Why are we helping Harry?" he finished the question, and Laura nodded. "You'll have to ask him about that. When someone saves your life, you owe them. Anytime Harry comes to LA, we're here to help if he needs it."

"He saved your life."

"Mine and Maudie's," Gus confirmed. "You said that we needed to start back to the hotel about now," he reminded her, and Laura looked at her watch.

"You're right. I just hope Harry finished what he set out to do."

***

Laura opened her purse to get some cash, but Gus shook his head, reaching over the front seat to stop her. "No. I don't charge Harry - or his friends - for a ride."

"That's a lot of money on the meter," she told him. "Won't you get into trouble?"

He smiled again. "That's the good part of being my own boss: I don't have to answer to anyone - anyone except for Maudie," he clarified. "Go on. And tell Harry I said hello."

Laura got out of the cab just as the second cab pulled to the curb. Ignoring the two men, she entered the hotel. Harry was across the lobby and gave her a quick nod before turning toward the crowded restaurant.

Laura decided to join him, knowing that there was safety in numbers. There was no way that Leo Neff could use his weapon of choice as long as there were enough people around her. She sat down at a table with a view of the elevators, keeping covertly her eye on the two men who had stopped at the entrance into the restaurant. The waitress stopped and she asked for a cup of coffee, seeing Neff whisper something to his partner in crime.

***

"We can't hang 'round here, Ray. Let's go up t'the room."

"Yeah," Ray nodded at last. "We've got plans to finish before tonight. We'll catch up with her later," he decided, his eyes narrowing slightly as he finally turned away from Laura and toward the elevators.

"What do you think the reason was for leadin' us on that merry little chase?" Leo asked as the lift rose up toward the third floor.

"There's no telling why she did it. I think we should order something to eat, then get some rest before we have to get ready for tonight." He opened the door to their room, and went over to the bed, picking up the telephone receiver to dial the number for room service while Leo pulled off his jacket and tossed it onto the table. "Hang that up," Ray told him. "You are the messiest -" Someone came on the line. "Yes, this is Room 361. I need to order something to eat -."

Leo grabbed the jacket, mumbling that Ray was as bad as his mum and yanked open the closet door, yelping as he did so. "Blimey!"

"I'll call you back," Ray quickly told the woman, coming over to the closet.

"It's Pearson!" Leo declared. "How'd 'e get back here? We moved 'im -"

"Hands up!" a uniformed police office said as the door to the bathroom and the door from the hall opened. Four officers and two plainclothes gentlemen filled the room. "Raymond Kessler and Leo Neff?"

"Uh -" Leo stammered, glancing at Ray, who had slammed the closet door upon their entrance. They hadn't checked in using those names, since they were both wanted - just not in the States. But knowing that Pearson would possibly be there, they had taken precautions. "Ray?"

"Yeah. I'm Ray Kessler. He's Leo Neff. Who are you and why are you in our hotel room? We haven't done anything -"

One of the suited men went over and opened the closet. "Then what's this? According to his identification, he's Special Agent Benjamin Pearson from South Africa -"

"Is he? We've never seen him. I have no idea why he's in our closet. Do you, Leo?"

"N-no."

"Maybe - Hey, maybe someone's trying to frame us!" Ray suggested.

"We heard what was said when Mr. Neff here found him before we entered," the other suit said. "He knew who Pearson was."

"Who *are* you?" Ray demanded to know.

The suits pulled out ID wallets. "Los Angeles PD Homicide Detectives Banner and Smith," Banner told him. "Now, before we go any further, I need to inform you of your rights." Taking out a card, he began to read…

***

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Laura and Harry took the stairs up to her room. "Did you have any trouble?" she asked, looking inside the closet to verify that the body was indeed no longer there.

"Not a bit. That red jacket means that no one really sees you. A red-coated man, pushing a wheeled steamer trunk up and down in the elevator? Totally ignored. And if you look in this bath, you'll find the correct number of non-bloody towels."

"You took all of those towels to their room as well? Do you think they'll be able to talk their way out of it? Try to blame you - or me?"

"It's possible that they might try - but -" he stopped talking as there was a knock at the door. Grabbing Laura's arm, he pulled her into the bathroom, turning on the shower. "Strip," he told her, holding her robe as there was another knock, this one louder and more demanding. He gave her a towel. "Put it around your hair, love."

Laura bent over and wrapped the towel around her hair. "Here goes nothing," she said, opening the room again and yelling, "I'm coming!" She opened the door as far as the security chain would allow, seeing six men in the hallway - "Sorry, I was just about to step into the shower when I heard you knocking. Can I help you?"

"Miss Lund?" one of the men wearing a suit asked.

"Yes, I'm Ilsa Lund. Who are you?"

"I'm Detective Nick Banner, LAPD Homicide," he answered, showing her his badge.

"Homicide? Someone's dead? Who?" Seeing their surprise at her questions, she smiled, then reached up to stop the towel from falling. "I'm a freelance journalist," she explained.

"Is there anyone else staying in this room?"

"No, there's not," she replied.

"Do you know either of these men?" Banner asked, indicating Kessler and Neff.

Laura looked at them. "I've seen them around the hotel a couple of times, I think, but I couldn't swear to it. I don't know their names -"

"You're lying, lady," Ray Kessler declared. "You saw us in Paris with -"

"Paris? I've never been to Paris," she told him. Looking at Banner again, she said, "If you need a reference for me, I'm a friend of Gordon Hunter - I'm sure he'll vouch for me."

"We'll speak to him, Miss Lund," Banner nodded. "But, well, would it be possible for one of us to come in and look in your closet?"

"My closet, Dectective? What do you think I have in there?"

"Hopefully nothing except clothes," was his reply. "It will only take a moment," he assured her.

"I really need to take my shower so I can make it to the reception downstairs - hold on." She closed the door and released the security chain, then opened it again, pulling her robe more tightly closed. "Come on."

"Thank you," he said, entering the room, and Laura pointed in the direction of the closet. Opening the door, he looked inside, and felt of the inside of the door before closing it. "Looks fine. Thank you again, and please excuse the interruption. Have a nice evening."

"Oh, I will. And now I have an interesting story to tell, don't I? Goodbye," she said, closing the door and placing the chain back on. Taking the towel off of her head, she untied the robe before she reached the bathroom. Harry's clothes were neatly folded onto the counter beside the sink, and Laura smiled as she slipped into the shower, putting her arms around him and pulling his head down to hers for a kiss. When it ended, she asked, "Where's the trunk?"

"Down the hall in a linen closet," he told her. "I'll bring it back while you're hobnobbing with all of those car salesmen this evening."

"I'd much rather stay right where I am," she murmured, running her hands up his chest.

"I think that Gordon Hunter would be very disappointed if you weren't there to share in his moment of triumph," Harry said.

"All of this fuss over a car," she sighed, turning around. "Would you care to wash my back?"

***

Harry, wearing the red coat again, waited until the gems had been moved into the case in the banquet hall. All of the security guards were stationed inside of that room, leaving the hallway empty of everyone except hotel employees going about their various jobs. Ducking into the maintenance closet, he made sure to lock the door, then sat back to wait.

***

Laura was one of the last to arrive in the banquet hall - mostly because she hadn't wanted to give anyone from Havenhurst a chance to speak to her - if they even remembered the girl who had applied for an apprenticeship almost five years ago. She easily found their table - recognizing Alan Grievey and his partner, along with Murphy and a young woman that Laura thought might be another operative - or possibly just Grievey's date. She circled the room, sitting at the table that Gordon had told her was his, returning his smile as he noticed her.

"There you are," he said, joining her. "It's a good turnout, don't you think?"

She could see how excited he was, like a little boy on Christmas morning about to unwrap a present. "Yes, it is."

"I'm about ready to start my speech," he told her. "I hope they like it."

"I'm sure they will," she assured him. "Good luck."

"They are called the rarest gems in the world," Gordon began, and people began to take their seats as they listened. "And pieces of the sky. When I was trying to think of a way to introduce the Hunter JetStar 6000, I realized that a one-of-a-kind car needed something that was also one-of-a-kind. I discovered that the gems were making a world tour, and would be in California - so, I give you The Royal Lavulite!"

The silken cover was removed from the display case beside the podium where Gordon was standing, and the lights brightened, a single spot hitting the case to make the gems seem to come alive.

The "Ooos" and "Ahhs" filled the room, and several people stood up to get a closer look, but Gordon lifted his hands."Ladies and gentlemen, could we take our seats, please? We've got an awful lot to accomplish, not the least of which is the unveiling of THE finest automobile ever engineered by man. But before we knock your socks off with the Hunter JetStar 6000, I'd like to take a moment to thank the Havenhurst Agency. Transporting and protecting the most precious gems in the world requires brilliant planning, daring execution, and plain old street savvy. So, without further ado, I would like to introduce to you to the person responsible for the safety of the Royal Lavulite - Mr. Alan Grievey, the owner of that agency."

Laura glanced quickly as Grievey stood, nodded and waved before sitting back down. She also noted his partner's frown - probably because he had been ignored - then looked away again. But not before she saw Murphy looking in her direction.

Gordon continued to speak. "Without any further pause, I'd like to introduce to you the Hunter JetStar 6000." The cover was lifted from the car - a futuristic-looking automobile with gull-wings and lots of angles. The band in the corner began to play, and Laura, knowing that he would expect it, rose and joined Gordon beside the car. "Well?" he asked. "What do you think of it?"

"It's certainly - unusual," she told him. "In a good way, of course. Cars are so - cookie-cutter these days," she added. "There are only two seats -"

"We can add a second seat," he told her. "The plans I drew up were for both a coupe and a sedan model." She watched as he stepped up onto the platform and opened the door, watching as it lifted upward, like a one-winged bird. Reaching inside, he touched something and the passenger door lifted as well.

"Oh my," Laura said. "All the bells and whistles."

"Excuse me, I need to talk to some of these people."

Laura nodded and turned back toward the table, only to find herself face to face with Murphy. "Hi there," he said. "Care to dance?"

"Not right now," she told him.

"Don't I know you?"

"That's a very old line," she answered in a cool tone. "And no, you don't."

"You remind me of someone I met when I first starting at Havenhurst," he told her, following her back toward the table.

"I'm not from Los Angeles," she told him.

"Without the glasses, you're a double for her."

"They do say that everyone has a double, don't they?"

"Yeah. Yeah, they do, Miss -"

"I don't think we need to exchange names, since we won't be seeing each other again. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"You're a friend of Mr. Hunter's?"

"You'll have to ask him about that," she told him. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going over to the buffet and get some food. Then, I'm going to bring it back here to this table and eat it. Alone." With that, she swept past him toward the buffet, refusing to give in to the temptation to look back and see if he had taken the hint. As she moved around the buffet table, Laura saw that he had returned to the table with his bosses and breathed a sigh of relief. She would have really hated to drag out the sledge hammer if he had remained persistent.

Gordon joined her at the table after speaking to Grievey, but he was only holding a glass of wine, not a plate. "Aren't you going to eat?" she asked.

"No. I'm not hungry right now. Alan Grievey just told me that they had captured two men who were probably plotting to steal the gemstones."

"Really? Well, that's good news. It means you won't have to worry about them being stolen."

"I suppose," he nodded, watching the area around the car.

"What's wrong, Gordon?" she asked.

"I know it's too early to know, but - no one has looked twice at the car - only at the Royal Lavulite."

"Give them time," she suggested. "Rome - make that Detroit wasn't built in a day." He barely reacted to her attempted humor. "It's early yet. Let them have a little more to drink and I'm sure they'll be ready to snap up the JetStar 6000 like it was - Royal Lavulite being sold at bargain basement prices." Still no reaction. "Are you telling me that you're not a good enough salesman to sell your car - your *dream* to these people?"

He finally looked at her. "You know what, you're right. I can't just let the car sell itself, I have to make it happen, just like I've been doing since I was eighteen years old. Thank you, Ilsa!" he declared, rising from the table to go from first one table to the other, making sure everyone at each table had one of the brochures about the car.

"How about now?"

Laura went still upon hearing the voice again. Turning, she gave him a look. "Now - what?"

"A dance," Murphy said. "You said 'not right now' earlier -"

"Now, it's no. I don't want to dance."

"It's just a dance," he told her. "Why are you so angry with me?"

"I'm not angry," she told him. "I'm annoyed. It's not very flattering to be confused with someone else."

"Then give me a chance to apologize," he said.

"Okay. I accept your apology."

"I meant by agreeing to dance with me."

"Look, Mr -"

"Michaels," he said with a grin, "Murphy Michaels. I work at Havenhurt."

"How nice for you. Now, I suppose you expect me to bat my eyelashes and be impressed?"

"No, but I would like to dance -"

"No."

"Look, Miss -" he prompted, but she remained mute. "I told you my name," he reminded her.

Laura stood up, and Murphy smiled, expecting her to dance. "Excuse me, I have to visit the ladies room."

***

She opened the ladies' room door just enough to be able to see out into the small alcove, not in the least surprised to discover that Murphy was there, waiting in the open doorway back into the banquet hall. She closed the door to lean against the wall beside it, trying to decide how to stop Murphy from his pursuit. When she heard him say something, she leaned closer to the door.

"You're not going to impress that girl by waiting for her outside of the ladies room, Murphy," his employer stated.

"Alan, I am *certain* that I know her. It was a few years ago, but I'm pretty sure she was in the office one day."

"And what does the lady say?"

"That she's never seen me before," Murphy acknowledged. "But I think she's lying for some reason."

"I'm just as sure that *I've* never seen her before," Alan told him. "Does it really matter? All you're going to accomplish is to make her call security - or the police -"

"I guess it doesn't matter," Murphy said. "I might as well go back to the table -"

"Why don't you go on home?" Alan suggested. "It's been a long day - and we have to be back here at six-thirty. I'll probably be leaving soon myself."

"And what about the Lavulite?" Murphy asked.

"Donald will be more than happy to stay and make sure it's safely returned to the safe and the alarm set."

"You really think that the two men the police arrested for Benjamin Pearson's murder were the only ones planning to steal them?"

"It makes sense," Alan insisted. "They've been trying to get them back ever since that courier double-crossed them. Do I have to make it an order, Murphy? I can, if you'd prefer."

"No, I'll go. See you tomorrow morning."

"If the young lady asks about you, I'll give her your regards."

"Thanks." The tone was *not* grateful, Laura decided.

After another minute, Laura opened the door, and breathed a sigh of relief to find the alcove was empty.

So was the ballroom. The only people there were catering staff, who were cleaning up the tables and taking food off of the buffet tables; several security guards, who were returning the gems to their metal box under Donald's watchful gaze; and Gordon, who was sitting beside the car on the platform, a glass of wine in his hand. She sat down beside him. "What happened?" she asked.

"They ate my food, they drank my booze, but they didn't buy my car," he answered dejectedly.

"I'm sorry, Gordon," she said, putting an arm around his shoulders. "At least you don't have to worry about the gems now, since they captured the would-be thieves."

"I wish I knew what I'm going to tell those 800 people that I hired to build this car - a car that no one wants."

"Give it a few hours," she told him. "Maybe some of those people will reconsider and by tomorrow morning they'll be falling all over each other to talk to you. New things take time, remember?" She touched his cheek. "Why don't you do whatever you have to do, and then I'll take you back to your room -"

Gordon shook his head, capturing her fingers in his. "No. I - I think I'd really rather be alone, Ilsa. But thank you for - everything. I'll see you tomorrow morning -"

"No, you won't," she told him. "I was going to tell you - I have another story assignment, so I'll be checking out in the morning."

He sighed. "Then you need to get some rest. Go on."

"I'm worried about you, Gordon."

"Don't be wasting your time worrying about me," he insisted. "I'll manage. There's a car collector that I might be able to convince to buy the car. He specializes in one of a kind automobiles. Maybe I can recoup some of my losses-"

Laura paused in the doorway to look at him, still sitting there, staring at the floor, looking as though he hadn't a friend left in the world. She knew that there was nothing she could do to help, but Laura couldn't help but think about him all the way up to the room. Once there, her thoughts immediately shifted to Harry. Looking at her wristwatch, she made note of the time. It was barely eleven - Harry's plan was for her to take the hotel elevator to the roof garden at three, and from there get into the electrical room, where she would disable the alarm system in the security room.

She kept busy by packing everything except the clothes they would wear to leave the hotel. Then she wiped down almost everything in the room to remove any random fingerprints that she or Harry might have left.

Finally, around a quarter before three, she left the room and went to the elevator, taking it to the top floor. From there, she used the stairs and came out onto the deserted rooftop. The potted trees and plants, interspersed with benches and rattan furniture, would likely have been romantic under other circumstances, she thought, wandering around the setting, even pausing at the walled edge to look out over the lights of the city .

Slipping the small leather case from the bodice of her dress, she pulled out what she needed to pick the lock on the door of a room marked, "Caution! High Voltage electrical equipment. Employees only. NO ADMITTANCE".

Slipping on a pair of rubber gloves that Harry had hidden in one of the planters, Laura made short work of the lock, then slipped into the room. She could almost feel the electricity dancing across her skin as she looked for and found the control box for the hotel's security systems. Setting the jumpers on the appropriate circuits was a simple matter, including the one for this room. Downstairs, it would have been a blip on the system board, easily mistaken for a glitch, if it had even been noticed, and would now be dark again.

"Your move, Harry," she murmured softly, looking at her wristwatch.

***

Harry had entered the narrow air vent around the same time that Laura had left to go up to the roof. He had an idea that the hotel would be making some changes to the security office if all went off without a hitch. The short length of vent meant he had to wait until he saw the alarm indicator change from green to red on the safe.

Very quietly, he grasped the grate and pushed out, removing it with a quiet "snap". It was tricky, sliding out of the vent enough to drop the grate without making noise before using his hands to brace is own descent onto the top of the file cabinet.

Picking the lock on the safe was child's play, and he stopped long enough to take the pouch from his sleeve, emptying it onto the top of the safe. Then he pulled the metal box from the safe, pausing only a moment to admire the Royal Lavulite before pulling the stones from the velvet bedding, murmuring, "Come to Papa, my pretties," as he placed them into the pouch. The next step was to replace them with the faux stones that Laura had picked up earlier that day. The box hadn't been sealed again, he noted, deciding that they would likely do that before transport to the airport. So he and Laura would have to be long gone by that time.

Suddenly the door rattled, and Harry froze, fully expecting that one of the security guards was about to catch him in the act. But the rattling stopped, and he started to breathe again. He returned the box to the safe and closed it, putting the velvet pouch back into his sleeve, then retraced his path back to the maintenance closet.

***

Laura entered the service hallway, looking around until she saw the guard in front of the security office. "Excuse me, I seem to be lost -"

"Yes, miss, you are," he stated. "Guests aren't supposed to be back here."

Nodding, Laura pretended to be upset. "I'm sorry, but, well, my boyfriend and I just had an argument, and well," She moved so that the guard would be forced to turn away from the maintenance closet doors as she continued, lifting a tissue to her eyes, "I'm afraid he might do something to himself -" she threw herself at the man's chest, crying softly as Harry, wearing the red jacket again, came out of the other room.

"Here now, here now, what's this?" he asked, and the guard stammered.

"She's upset about her boyfriend, I think. Thinks he might be going to hurt himself."

"I'll take care of her," Harry told the man, who nodded, apparently grateful not to have to deal with the crying woman. "Come along, Miss. We'll find your boyfriend. I'm sure he's perfectly all right."

"Thank you," Laura said. "Sorry to be so much trouble -" Once they were out of the guard's line of sight, they stopped walking. "Thank you. I'll be fine," she assured him, going to the elevators while Harry went to the stairs.

***

"Well?" Laura asked as soon as they entered the room.

He took out the velvet pouch and poured the six stones onto the bed once more. "Voila!"

Laura threw her arms around his neck and gave him a long kiss. "Did you have any problems?"

"No. Went off without the proverbial hitch," he assured her. "But we're going to need to get out of here now. Which means our celebration will have to wait until a more - propitious moment, I fear." He gave her another kiss, then returned the gems to the bag and slipped them into the hidden compartment in her suitcase. "Let's change clothes, then I'll call Maudie to see if Gus can pick us up. Then I'll call the airline to find out if they can get us on an earlier flight."

"Where are we going?" she asked, turning around so that he could unhook and unzip the dress.

"I made reservations for Ilsa Lund and Micheal O'Leary on every plane and train out of the city," he told her. "Which reminds me, make sure Ilsa's passport is in that secret compartment as well."

"You still haven't told me where -"

"Acapulco," he told her, and she turned to look at him. "It's only a layover. We'll take the first flight out to Capetown to return the gems to their rightful owner."

"Won't they ask how they came to be in *your* possession?"

"They won't care - and neither will I, as long as they pay me for their return."

"How much will that be?" she wanted to know as she packed the last of the things Harry had used into the trunk, locking it and giving him the key.

He picked up the telephone as he answered her question. "The usual fee is ten percent of the item's value. You know that."

"I wasn't sure, with something this valuable," she told him, her expression thoughtful.

Harry hung up a moment later. "Gus is on his way. He'll take us to the airport for our flight to Acapulco." The airline had had a last minute cancellation for their next flight, telling him that they needed to be there no later than 5 am. Kissing her again, he said, "I'll go on down and wait outside for you. Do you have enough cash to pay the bill?"

"After I finish haggling with them, they'll probably owe *me*," she told him with a grin. "Freelance journalists don't have huge expense accounts, after all. I'll see you outside."

"Don't be long," he told her, blowing her a kiss as she dialed the front desk.

"Yes, this is Ilsa Lund in Room 146. I'm checking out. Could you send someone up to get my luggage and trunk, please?" She smiled. "Thank you."

Downstairs, Laura cajoled and wheedled the young man at the front desk to pare her bill down by over a hundred dollars between discounts and having been questioned by the police due to a murder in the hotel - which she, as a reporter, had so far kept quiet about. They didn't *quite* owe her money, but it was close. They even retrieved her jewelry from the hotel safe - and never realized that the Royal Lavulite had been stolen.

Gus' cab was parked at the curb, and he stood leaning against the fender, reading what appeared to be a racing form. Seeing her approach with a bellman, he stood up, tucking the paper under his arm. "Need a cab, ma'am?" he asked. She started to ask him about Harry, since she didn't see him anywhere.

"Yes. I have a steamer trunk -" she began knowing that it would fit - since that was how she had gotten it to the hotel to begin with - only at that time, she hadn't realized it was one of the cabs owned by Gus.

"No problem," he assured her. "The trunks on these old cabs are huge. I think it'll fit." Reaching inside, he brought the keys around to open the lid and helped the bellman with loading the luggage.

She tipped the man as he headed back into the hotel. Gus opened the driver side door, then waited for her to come around the car.

"Where is -?" she started to ask, but something grabbed her wrist, pulling her into the back seat. Laura wrapped her arms around Harry's neck. "There you are," she purred, enjoying the oversized back seat.

***

"I uh, hate to interrupt the two of you," Gus said, "but if you don't come up for air soon, I'll start worrying." He chuckled. "I'd just throw a blanket over you, but I figure you have a plane to catch."

Harry and Laura sat up, smoothing hair and straightening clothes. "Sorry, mate," he apologized.

"No, you're not. Ah, the abandon of youth," Gus said. "I take it your business was successfully completed."

"It was indeed, my friend," Harry confirmed.

"Are we taking the trunk with us?" Laura asked.

"No," Harry said. "Gus and Maudie will keep it until someone else needs it."

"What time is your flight out?"

Harry looked at Laura's wristwatch. "Half an hour - Will we make it?"

"Hang on," Gus told them as he stepped on the gas pedal. In the rearview mirror, he saw them turn back into each other's arms, and grinned.

***

"Did you get it?" Laura asked as Harry entered the hotel room.

He grinned, setting an oversized black briefcase onto the bed and opening it. "Ten percent," he told her, watching as she picked up a bundle of hundred dollar bills. "Two hundred-sixty thousand US dollars." He sat down beside her on the bed. "Gordon Hunter was arrested at the airport for stealing the gems," he informed her, pulling a newspaper out of the pocket in the briefcase.

Laura gasped, looking at the photo of Gordon, in handcuffs, being escorted by Murphy Michaels. "It says here that they haven't recovered the Royal Lavulite, but that Gordon admitted to trying to steal them to finance his car, the JetStar 6000. He denies having hidden the real gems and replacing them with fakes." Below the article was a photograph of the car itself. "Poor Gordon. I didn't realize he was so desperate."

"Now that they've been returned, I'm sure that word will get back to Los Angeles and he'll only have to face attempted robbery charges," Harry told her.

"Will the South African government tell them who the real thief was?"

"No, that was part of the deal - I would return their property in exchange for my anonymity - and the money of course."

She fanned herself with the bundle she was holding. "I've been thinking, Harry - we could make good money by - retrieving stolen items and returning them to their owners - for a fee, of course."

"What?"

"You already do that - I've helped you steal things and take them back for money. I think we could at least discuss the possibility - can't we?"

"You're suggesting that we stop running con games and open a more or less legitimate retrieval business?"

"Just think about it. We can talk about it later," she told him, lifting her sweater over her head, then picking up some of the money. "Right now, I want to do something that I've always dreamed of doing."

"What's that?" he asked, but he was smiling and picked up a couple of bundles of the money.

"Making love on a pile of money," she told him, picking up the briefcase and dumping its contents onto the bed before pulling him with her…

***

Some time later, Harry woke, pulling Laura closer to him. "I love you," he whispered into her ear and immediately felt her body tense, the way it always did when he said those words. "Why does it bother you so much when I tell you how I feel?" he asked, expecting her to ignore him, to pretend that she was asleep. But this time, he didn't want to let it go. "I know you're awake, Laura."

"I'm sure I'm not the first woman that you've said those words to," she finally replied. "They don't really mean anything, do they?"

Harry dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder. "Would you believe me if I told you that I've never told any other woman that I loved her and never wanted to lose her?"

"The question then would be, is it the truth?"

"I've never lied to you, Laura," he insisted, and felt her sigh. "Not about the things that really matter. Do you believe that?"

"I guess so." He felt her draw a shuddering breath and tightened his arm around her waist, waiting for her to continue. "I suppose - I - I'm afraid."

"Afraid? Of what?"

"Statements of love are usually followed by a promise to never leave. I can't help but wonder if - what happens in the future? What happens if you get bored with me - and if we have a couple of kids to tie us down - you'd end up leaving - because you can't handle the day to day of being a family man?" Her voice lowered so that he had to listen closely to hear her. "I saw what that did to my mother when my father left us. I don't want to -"

"Laura, look at me," he said, but she shook her head. "Please. I want you to be able to see my face. Com'on," he urged, lifting his arm to touch her chin and gently pull it to the side. Laura finally rolled over onto her back, and he shifted slightly to allow the change. "You know my history - orphaned as a baby, raised hither and yon, shifted from one house to another, never belonging, never feeling like I was wanted for anything more than a way to get money. Until I met Daniel, and now with you. Do you really think that I could ever abandon my children - or their mother? If it's within my power, I will never leave you. And if this idea of retrieving stolen items makes you happy, then that's we'll give it a try."

"Oh, Harry," she sighed, putting her arms around his neck. "Do you mean it?"

"Have you ever known me to say something that I don't mean, my love?"

"I do love you," she said, her eyes shining from the light from the window.

"I know that. But it's nice to hear you say it." He lowered his head to kiss her. "I hope that you never regret coming with me, Laura."

"I haven't so far. But there is *one* thing I regret -"

"What's that?"

She wiggled around, wincing slightly. "- wanting to make love on this money - it's really uncomfortable," she told him.

"Well, then," he said, getting out of the bed and holding out his hand to her, "why don't we put it back into the briefcase, and then -" he pulled her against him, "then, we're going to make love - for real."

The End