Daniel approached Maeve as she worked in the kitchen preparing lunch. Snitching a scrap of something, he smiled when she slapped at his hand. "You're as bad as your brother," she told him. "You must be feeling better."
"Oh, I am. All of this has given me a- new outlook, if you will," he confided. "Life's too short to just- sit on the sidelines. One has to get in there and be a participant if it's to mean anything."
Maeve looked at him. "Daniel, you're not thinkin' of goin' back t'your old ways, now, I hope?"
"I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet. Besides, it's not entirely my decision." He looked up as Nathan came in from the deck with the cordless telephone. Maeve stopped what she was doing to look at him.
"All right," Daniel told them. "That's the second time you two have exchanged that look. What's going on?"
"What look?" Maeve asked, silently asking her husband for some assistance.
"That look, my dear. You silently inquire about something, and Nathan shakes his head negatively."
"I've been trying to contact Carole," Nathan told him. "But she's not in."
"She's probably having dinner with a young man," Daniel suggested as the telephone rang. "Ill get it," he told them, picking up the phone from where Nathan had placed it before his brother could get there. "After all, this *is* my home." Pressing the button, he held it to his ear. "Hello?"
"Nathan? It's Abigail. Has there been any word? I don't know why I let Maeve convince me to come out here to Frances'. Has he found her yet?" Daniel met Nathan's gaze squarely as he held out the telephone. "It's Abigail. For you." Nathan took the telephone and started toward the doors again. "Might as well stay in here, Nate. Because I'm going to find out what's going on one way or the other."
His brother put the phone to his ear. "Abigail, it's Nathan . . .Yes, he did . . . Not that we know of. I just spoke with Mildred, and he's called in Jarred to help with the search. Abigail, the minute we hear *anything*, I'll call. I promise."
Daniel waited for Nathan to hang up, then asked, "What's going on?"
Husband and wife exchanged that now familiar look once more before Nathan answered. "It looks as though Laura might have been kidnapped," he said slowly. He was watching Daniel closely as she spoke.
"My God."
"She was at the office alone this morning. When Maeve and Abigail got there, all they found was her shoe. Then Remington got a telephone call from someone-"
"A Major Descoine, I believe it was," Maeve told him.
"That bastard," Daniel spat. "Harry told me about him. He tried to frame Harry for murder and then tried to kill the both of them. He's insane. But I thought- Harry told me that he'd been locked away."
"He was. But according to the authorities, he was very ill. He was a model prisoner and they let him leave prison for his final days."
"Why didn't anyone tell me about this?" Daniel asked.
"Remington and Mildred were worried how you might react to the news," Maeve explained, wiping her hands on the apron she was wearing over her dress.
"I see." He sat there, thinking for a moment, then rose from the chair to head for the door.
"Where are you going, Daniel?" Nathan asked.
"To talk to Mildred. I'll drive myself," he told them, and closed the door on his way out.
***
Jarred Martindale pulled his motorcycle up outside Locker 18 and sat there, wondering where his cousin had gotten off to. Or perhaps he hadn't been here yet at all, he decided, and moved to inspect the lock on the door. Simple, he decided and pulled out the lock pick set he'd bought recently and hoped that he'd learned *something* in his time working for the agency as he started to work on it.
It gave in two minutes time, and Jarred knew that he had a long way to go before he'd be in his cousin's class. Lifting the door, he saw Laura's car and moved toward it. The keys weren't in the ignition, he noted as he moved around it. The trunk lid was partially raised, and he lifted it to inspect the interior.
Something hit the floor and rolled to a stop against the back wall of the storage area. As a fog of smoke filled the room, Jarred started to cough, looking toward the entrance, where a young woman was standing, a strange smile on her face as she began to lower the door. The smoke filled his lungs and he felt himself passing out as he struggled toward the door. The last thing he heard was the lock being closed again, sealing him into the room.
***
The acid vats were still as desolate as they had been the first time Remington had seen them. Out in the middle of the desert, nothing else visible for miles, they were a blot on an otherwise pristine landscape. The gate was open as it had been that time, and he drove into the compound.
Killing the engine, he got out of the car and stood there, watching, listening, looking for some sign of Laura- or the next clue. Picking up the phone, he dialed the office number.
"Boss?" Mildred answered, forgoing her usual "Remington Steele Investigations."
"Is Jarred there, Mildred?"
"No. And he hasn't called, either."
"He should have been there by now," Remington said, glancing at his watch, then lifting his gaze to the catwalks above the vats to inspect them again. This time, he saw something laying on the metal grating near the vat that he and Laura had retrieved the key from the last time. "I'll call you right back, Mildred," he told her, and hung up the phone, sprinting across the distance to climb the metal stairs. It was a hat. A fedora, much like one that Laura might wear. Looking at the band inside, he saw the imprint, "Spellman Hat Company" in the leather.
"Spellman Hat Company," he muttered, going back down the ladder to toss the hat into the car. Getting inside, he started the engine and turned the car back out onto the road as he called Mildred again.
"Did you find something?" she asked, and he thought she sounded a tad nervous.
"Is everything all right, there, Mildred?" he asked.
"Everything's fine, Boss," she told him. "What did you find?"
"A hat. What was the address for the Spellman Hat Company, Mildred?" he asked, dismissing his suspicion as paranoia. "All I can remember is that it was in an old office building on Wiltshire."
"Yeah," she agreed, and he heard papers rustling. Giving him the address, she said, "Should I call Lt. Jarvis and have him look for Jarred?"
"It might be a wise idea. I'm on my way to that office. I'll call you when I get there to check in. If Jarred shows up, sit on him, okay?"
"Will do. Be careful."
"Always, Mildred. Always."
Mildred hung up the telephone as the doors opened. "I'm sorry, but we're not-" her eyes widened when she saw Daniel standing there. "Daniel. Nathan called and told me that you were on your way."
"Was that Harry?" he asked.
"Yeah. He's not going to be happy you found out."
"Mildred, I don't want to be protected or coddled because of what happened. That's not living. And it's the one thing I refuse to compromise on. Now, what can I do to help?"
"You could make some coffee," she suggested, holding out her cup. "If you don't mind?"
Daniel took the cup and went toward the coffee-room. "Have you had lunch?" he asked.
"No. I've been chained to this phone, waiting for Remington to call in. And for Jarred-" she stopped, not wanting to worry him more.
He returned with two cups and placed hers on the desk. "What about Jarred?"
"He was supposed to meet Remington at an address I gave him. Remington had to leave and left a note for him, but he hasn't called- and he hasn't shown up here."
"I hope nothing's happened to him. Jarred's usually more responsible than that." He studied his coffee. "Where were they supposed to meet?"
Mildred shook her head. "I don't think so, Daniel. You don't need to go tearing off-"
"Mildred, Jarred is my nephew. And Laura- well, she just *might* be my daughter in law if she lives long enough. There's no one else-"
"I called the police. They're supposed to check the place out and let me know if his bike is there."
"I'd still feel better if I went and looked for myself," Daniel insisted. "And you would too, I believe."
She sighed and then gave him the address and directions on how to get there from Century City. "You're sure you're okay, Daniel?"
"I've never felt better than at this moment," he told her, leaning closer to place a gentle kiss on her lips. "Besides, my motives are entirely selfish. If Harry doesn't find Laura, then our dinner date for this evening is in serious jeopardy." He took the slip of paper that she'd written everything on. "I'll be right back."
"Be careful, okay?"
"Always, my dear," he said, and Mildred smiled at the similarity between father and son as she watched him leave.
***
Remington kept his gun at ready as he moved through the abandoned office building. A sign out front warned trespassers to keep out, that the building was slated for demolition to make way for another parking garage. He didn't expect the Spellman Hat Company's sign to still be on the office door, but it was. "Spellman Hat Company. Custom Hatters for Heads of Distinction," it read. Cautiously, he opened the door.
The room looked much as it had on his only other visit. A desk, file cabinets, hats scattered about. Putting the gun back into the small of his back, he smiled, recalling that Laura had put one of them on as she'd looked through the file cabinets. The thought sent him in that direction, to flip through the folders until he came upon one with Laura's name on it. Inside was a water and mud stained diary.
He flipped through the wrinkled pages. "Laura's diary," he mused, and realized he'd just found the next clue. Grabbing the book, he was off once again . . .
***
Daniel found the storage lockers easily and made his way to number 18. There was no sign of his nephew's motorcycle, but there was a spot of oil near the door. Daniel recalled hearing the lad tell his father that he needed to work on the bike because of an oil leak. Kneeling, he decided that the oil was fresh. The movement put him on eye level with the lock on the door, and he lifted it, letting it fall back onto the metal.
Standing up, he turned to leave, only to stop when he heard a faint, muffled moan. "Jarred?" he called. The moan came again- from inside the storage area. "Are you in there?"
"Uncle Daniel?" Jarred called back, sounding groggy. "Is that you?"
"I'll have you out in a jiffy," Daniel said, pulling his own lock picks out of his pocket and set to work on the lock. It took him longer than it should have, and he promised himself to practice. Never paid to let one's skills get rusty.
At last the lock was removed, and he heard Jarred say, "I'll lift it, Uncle," and then the door slid upward with a soft rumble. Daniel rushed to help the boy out into the fresh air.
"What happened?" he asked, coughing from the lingering stench inside.
"I was supposed to meet Remington here," Jarred explained. "But he wasn't here. So I thought I'd investigate on my own. I got the lock open,- wish I was as fast as you are-"
"I'm not as fast as I used to be," Daniel told him. "How did you get locked inside?"
"I was in there, looking over Laura's car for clues when someone- a young woman, I think, tossed a canister of something that knocked me out, then locked the door so I couldn't escape." He was taking deep breaths, trying to clear his lungs of whatever he'd inhaled.
"DO you need a doctor?" Daniel asked.
"No," Jarred assured him, shaking his head. "I'll be all right. Where's my bike?"
"It was probably moved so that police would think you hadn't been here," Daniel told him. "Let's close that up and get back to the office so that Mildred can let Harry know that you're safe."
***
The drainpipe was worse than Remington remembered it. He winced as he felt the water in his leather shoes, and wasn't sure if he was grateful or not that at least he *was* wearing shoes this time. Squeaking noises revealed a new generation of Laura's little "pets" living here now. Holding his lighter in front of him in one hand, the gun firmly in the other, Remington moved cautiously through the dark pipe. One of these days, he was going to learn to keep a torch in the glove box. Laura had one in the Rabbit. But then, Laura was always prepared for any eventuality. It was one of the things he loved about her. Very little seemed to truly rattle her. Except for him, of course. He tripped on a wire and fell as the flash of a gun's barrel lit the area.
Recalling the last time, he found the wire and tugged again, listening closely for sounds of bullets ricocheting on the concrete. There was none. Blanks- again. "You're repeating yourself, Descoine," Steele muttered, lifting himself out of the muck with a disgusted groan. Near the trip wire, he found a piece of cardboard- or so he thought before he brought his lighter back to life to illuminate it. A photograph of himself and Laura- the edges charred and scorched as though it had been in a fire.
"A fire." Grabbing the picture, he turned and went back out to his car and called Mildred. "That abandoned apartment building that Minor was living in, Mildred- has it been torn down?"
"Are you kidding? It's an old government project. Those things don't get torn down until the tenants take them apart. Why?"
"That's my next stop. But since the office is between there and here, I'm going to stop in there first to change clothes. Any word from Jarred?" He asked, wondering how much it was going to cost to get the interior of the Porsche cleaned up. The dealership had been understanding about the bullet hole in the fender, but this-
"He's right here," she assured him.
"What happened? Let me talk to him - never mind. I'll speak to him myself when I get there."
"Boss you've still got nine hours."
"I know, Mildred. But I don't trust Descoine. The man's mind doesn't work on the same time schedules as the rest of us. I'll be there in ten minutes. And Jarred had better have a good explanation for what happened."
"Oh, he does, Chief," Mildred assured him. Hanging up, she looked at Daniel. "He's on his way to the office to change clothes."
"Good. It will give us a chance to have a chat."
"Daniel- he's not going to like that you're here and involved in this-"
"We've been through this, Mildred," Daniel reminded her, pushing his half-eaten plate of take out food aside. "I'll go wake Jarred up and let him know that Harry's en route."
She watched him head toward Remington's office to wake his nephew, "You're as stubborn as he is, you know that?" she called, and received a knowing smile in response.
"How do you think I managed to tame him after he'd been on the streets?" he replied. Going to the sofa in Harry's office, Daniel shook Jarred's shoulder. "Jarred? Jarred, my boy, Harry's on his way in."
Jarred sat up, blinking. "What?"
"Harry's on his way into the office. Feel better?"
"Much," Jarred nodded, stretching. "I think whatever it was is out of my system."
"I still think you should have a doctor look at you. I could call your father-"
"No. He already thinks I'm riskin' my life too much without his knowin' about this. And Mother, well, she'd have me back home so fast m'head would spin."
"Very well. But as soon as this is over, I'm sure that Harry will insist that you see someone just to be sure."
They both looked up when they heard his voice in the reception area.
"Mildred. Where's Jarred?"
"In your office," she told him, looking him over. "You look awful, Boss. What happened?"
"A minor falling out with a drainpipe," he told her, heading toward his office, already unbuttoning his ruined shirt. "There should be a change of clothes in the storage room-"
"I'll get them," Mildred offered, not really wanting to be there when he found Daniel waiting for him with Jarred.
"Jarred-" Remington stopped in the doorway. "Daniel? What the bloody hell are you doing here? Mildred!"
To Be Continued---