The woman who was first on the list, after buying Laura's spiel about being a representative of the travel agent who wanted to make sure she and her husband had enjoyed their recent trip, was more than willing to tell her how wonderful the stay in Hawaii had been. "We've wanted to do that for so long," Mrs. Davis confided. "And it was SO romantic," she said, with a sidelong glance at Laura's companion.

"So I've heard," Laura said. "There were no problems with the hotel?"

"I wish things went as smoothly around here as they did there," the woman said. "I know it's terrible to say this, but I felt safer in that hotel than I have in this house since we got back," she confided.

"You've had some trouble?" Remington questioned.

"Just a few days after we returned, while we were out, someone broke into the house."

"Oh, my," Laura commiserated. "Did they take anything?"

"As far as we can tell, the only thing they did was move some of my clothes around in my closet."

"How odd," Remington said. "Did you report it to the police?"

"For all the good it did. They said it was probably just kids playing a prank. You know- a club initiation or something like that. But I insisted that Pete- my husband- install a security system after that."

"I don't blame you at all, Mr. Davis," Laura said.

***

As they got into the limo after talking to the third woman on the list, Laura sat back in the car with a frustrated sigh. "Nothing. No connection whatsoever."

"Which made them perfect choices to use to smuggle drugs into this country," Remington pointed out. "And they did have one connection." He waited for her to look at him expectantly, then drew it out another moment, until he saw she was ready to explode. "They all stayed on the same floor of the Royal Hawaiian Hotel."

"You're right, Mr. Steele," she agreed with another sigh. "I suppose I hoped they would give us a name or SOMETHING to go on."

He lifted an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. "There, there, Laura. Why don't we take a break?" he suggested. "We're only a few miles from the house in Topanga Canyon-"

She pulled away slightly, holding up the list. "What about-"

He took the list from her. "I think that the-" he peered at the name of the last couple. "Conyers will wait," he said softly. "Just a quick stop? A few, brief minutes?"

Laura considered his words. "All right, Mr. Steele. Since we're in the area, we might as well look at it."

Remington smiled and gave the address to Fred.

***
Laura looked at the split-level, ranch style house with uncertainty. "THIS house?"

Remington nodded, examining the lines of the structure. "Clean, simple design. Spacious interior. It comes with two acres of land that backs onto a small creek-" he eyed her as Fred opened the door for them. "Shall we?"

Try as she might, Laura simply couldn't picture Mr. Steele in this setting. Oh, the house was nice enough, she supposed, wandering through the rooms. The kitchen was fully equipped- even a double refrigerator and wine cellar- but there just seemed to be something…missing.

Remington paused while extolling the virtues of the three bedrooms and two and a half baths to look at her. "You don't like it, do you?"

"I wouldn't say that-exactly," she insisted. "It just doesn't- FEEL right, somehow. For you. I can't see you being happy here."

"Then we'll scratch it off the list," he told her, taking her arm to turn her toward the front doors.

"You don't have to do that," Laura said. "After all, you're the one who's buying the place."

"But considering how much time you spend at my apartment, I think you should have a hand in choosing what's going to replace it, don't you?" he asked, turning the key in the door and leading her back to the car.

"It is quiet out here," she admitted. "Maybe TOO quiet. Guess I'm just a city girl at heart."

"Ahh," Remington said as they got into the limo again. "The smell of car exhaust and sound of car horns lulls you to sleep."

"Something like that," she said with a smile. Giving Fred the address for the Conyers' house, she sat back.
***
An hour later, she and Remington departed the Conyers' house with little more information than they had gotten from the other three couples. They had gone to Hawaii, stayed at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel on the fourth floor-, which was reserved for honeymoon couples and always booked months in advance, they had a wonderful time, and when they returned, someone had broken into their house to disturb some clothing in the closet.

"We've got to get to the source of this somehow," Laura mused.

"Well, the source is apparently in Hawaii, Laura," Remington reminded her.

"I know. I think you're finally going to get your wish, Mr. Steele."

He smiled at her, moving closer. "Really? And just what wish might that be, Miss Holt?" he asked smoothly.

"We're going to Hawaii."

***
"Mildred, I want you to make reservations for the Royal Hawaiian Hotel in Honolulu, please."

"Already taken care of Miss Holt," Mildred said, holding out a piece of paper.

"What?"

Remington took the papers. "Good work, Mildred. Did you get one on the forth floor as I requested?"

"As YOU-?"

"Room 402, Chief," Mildred confirmed. "The same one that Councilman Maxwell and his wife stayed in."

"Excellent," he said as Laura grabbed the paper from him to read it. "Reserved in the name of- Mr. and Mrs. John Robie?" she asked archly. "And just WHEN did the two of you plan this little scenario?"

"I asked Mildred to give it a go this morning," Remington told her. "I had a feeling we would have to make the trip Hawaii to solve this one."

"You did, did you? Every one of those people talked about how many months they had to wait for one of the rooms. Mildred gets going and has a reservation in less than a day? For- Tonight?"

Mildred looked a bit uncertain. "You know, it's amazing what you can accomplish with a computer, Miss Holt. I just- changed another couple's reservations to next week-"

"And what are we going to do when they arrive tomorrow as well and insist that they reserved the room first?" she asked.

"We did it in Acapulco," Remington reminded her. "And you approved then, if you'll recall. In fact," he said, recalling how she had thrown herself into his arms, "you were quite eager to take part in that little charade."

Laura turned on her heel and went into her office, slamming the door behind her. Remington winced, but called out, "We have a six o'clock flight."

"I think that was a tactical error, Mr. Steele," Mildred told him.

"What?"

"Reminding her about Acapulco."

"Hmm. I'm going home to pack, Mildred," he told her. "Make sure Laura does the same thing, okay?"

"I'll try, Mr. Steele. But you know what she's like when she thinks you've pulled a fast one."

He grinned at Mildred. "Ah, but I had an accomplice this time, didn't I? Admit it, Mildred you're just as eager as I am for she and I to jet away to an island paradise…"

"I'll get her out of here, Chief," Mildred promised. "After that, I'm not making any promises."

"Good enough," he said, blowing her a kiss as he left the office.

Mildred rose from her desk, crossed to Laura's office. Taking a deep breath, she knocked. "Miss Holt?"

***

Remington watched as Laura turned the ring on her left hand once again. "You're going to lose that if you don't stop fiddling with it."

She looked up at him, then followed his gaze to her hands. "Why did we have to pretend to be on our honeymoon?" she wondered as the stewardess brought a tray containing two fluted glasses of champagne.

Remington smiled at the young woman, taking the glasses and handing one to Laura. "Because it was the easiest way for us to get into one of those rooms," he reminded her. "It's not as if we've never posed as husband and wife for a case before, Laura." He tipped his glass to hers and took a sip. "Remember the Pepplers?"

She grinned, taking a sip of her own drink. "Ah, but they were getting a divorce."

"And the sensitivity spa? Richard and Laura Blaine?" Laura looked down at her hands. "As much as I hate to bring it up again- you WERE willing to pretend to be newlyweds in Acapulco to find out what was going on."

"And we wound up trying to avoid the police because you were wanted," she reminded him.

Remington grinned. "Look at it this way: I've never been to Hawaii. So the chances of my running into anyone who was a part of my mysterious past are practically nil."

"It's that 'practically' that I'm worried about," Laura said, smiling as Mildred passed the doorway that led to the tourist section. "Your old 'friends' have an annoying habit of turning up without warning."

Remington decided it was time to change the subject. Nodding toward the doorway where Mildred had been, he frowned. "Tell me once again why it was necessary to bring Mildred along?"

"She was invaluable in Acapulco," Laura reminded him. "And she's trying to get her license, remember? Besides, I thought it might be a good idea to bring her along in case we needed-"

"A chaperone?" Remington suggested.

Laura smiled, lifting her glass in his direction. "Back up, Mr. Steele."

"I think we'd best begin as we plan to continue, Laura. From here on out, I'm John, remember? Your devoted husband, who's brought you to Hawaii for a romantic second honeymoon."

She shook her head. "You still look like a Harry to me, Mr.- " she stopped. "John."

The stewardess came around to refill their glasses, and Remington lifted his glass. "To a speedy resolution of the case- and few days in Paradise."

***
They arrived at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel just after 8 p.m. Hawaiian time. Laura stood nearby as Remington spoke to the desk clerk. "Mr. and Mrs. John Robie? I believe we have a reservation?" He glanced to where Mildred stood with her own baggage as the clerk checked his records.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Robie. Here it is. Room 402." He motioned for a bellhop to come over. "Sign here, please." Remington signed the register, then turned to Laura with a smile. "Take Mr. and Mrs. Robie up to Room 402, Pete," the clerk told the young Hawaiian man who stood nearby. "May I help you?" the clerk asked Mildred.

"Mildred Krebs," she told him.

"Miss Krebs. Room 115. Sign here, please."

As they moved across the lobby, the sign beside the ballroom drew Remington's attention first. "What?" Laura questioned, hearing his low groan.

"I don't believe it," he muttered. "Why can't the bloody things stay out of our lives?"

"WHAT are you talking about?" she demanded to know.

He pointed in the direction of the sign. "That."

"Oh my god," Laura responded. "Not again."

The sign beside the door read, "On Display: Royal Lavulite Gems". Remington rushed Laura toward the elevator, wanting to put as much distance between them and the gems that had brought them together- and had almost cost them the agency.

He was so concerned with his own thoughts that he didn't see the man sitting in the lobby, a newspaper in his hands. A newspaper that was quickly raised as Remington and Laura passed him. Once the elevator doors closed behind the couple, the man folded the newspaper. It had been a long time- but it was he. And there could only be one reason why someone like Harry would be in this hotel at this particular moment: He was after the gems. This was going to prove VERY interesting...

To Be Continued…