Covert Steele
Part Five

Remington woke slowly, turning over and reaching out with the intent of pulling Laura closer to his side. His arm encountered something soft- but it wasn't Laura. Opening one eye, he peered at the pillow his was holding. Both eyes opened. Sitting up, he realized that he was alone. There was no sign of Laura. No sign that anything had happened in that room last night at all. Even the cart with the champagne was gone.

The door to the main room opened and Laura appeared, holding a cup in her hands. "It's about time you woke up, sleepyhead," she said in a teasing voice. "Room service just delivered breakfast- and we've got things to do today."

"Things to do?" he repeated as his brain refused to function properly. Last night- He glanced at Laura again. Has last night really happened? Or had it been just another dream?

"We have to bait the trap for your friend Phillipe," she reminded him, not moving from the partially open doorway.

"I told you, Laura," he said with a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, "he's not-"

"I know," Laura said, and he thought he saw her control slip a bit as her eyes moved to his chest that was visible above the sheets. "He's Daniel's friend. Or ex-friend. But the fact still remains that we have to stop him from stealing the Lavulite so that WE can finish what we came here to do."

He decided to test that control and smiled slightly. "You're right. I'll have a quick shower and join you in a moment," he decided, tossing back the covers and rising as he spoke. Laura turned back to the door, but not before he saw the look in her brown eyes as she had taken in his naked body.

"I'll be out here," she said.

As the water ran over his skin, Remington decided that Laura hadn't been as unaffected as she pretended to be. The question was: WHY was she acting that way? His memory of the night just passed far surpassed any of his dreams. He opened the shampoo and paused. Perhaps it hadn't been the same for Laura. Maybe HE hadn't satisfied---No, he thought, quickly dismissing that notion. He was certain that Laura had been as sated and happy as he when they had finally drifted into exhausted sleep.

Laura handed him a cup of coffee and sat down to watch as he at breakfast. "I think the first thing we should do is pay a visit to the display room," she told him. "Confirm DeMoray's suspicion that we're interested in the gems."

Remington shook his head as he took a bite of the perfectly prepared omelet. "Too obvious," he told her. When she frowned, he explained. "Laura, do you remember the night I became Remington Steele?"

"Every moment of it," she confirmed.

"Do you remember my going near those gems ONCE all evening?"

Laura looked thoughtful. "No. You didn't."

"Too much interest tips ones hand," he told her. "If I plan to steal something, the last thing I'm going to do is stand there drooling over it."

She sat down. "Okay, then what do YOU suggest we do?"

He folded his napkin. "Phillipe already believes that I'm here for the gems. Or job should be to make him believe that I'm ready to do it tonight."

"And how do we do that?" she asked.

Remington smiled. "Tour the island, like any honeymoon couple. With a few stops in between," he told her, placing a hand over hers as it lay on the table between them. "Speaking of honeymoon couples, Laura-" he began, but she jumped up, pulling her hand out of his reach.

"I'll call for the car," she told him, grabbing the telephone.

Remington sighed and watched her as he finished his coffee. She was nervous. Hadn't she heard him last night? Heard what he had said? Maybe she thought he'd said it in the heat of the moment, but he had never meant those three words more in his entire life…

 

As they exited the lift, Remington saw Phillipe across the lobby, trying his best to look unobtrusive- as much as a five six, two hundred pound man wearing a white suit CAN look unobtrusive, anyway. Taking Laura's arm, he bent his head to speak softly. "Don't look now, but Phillipe is watching us." He gave her a quick kiss, and steered her easily toward the doors. As he started the engine of the red sports car that he had asked Mildred to arrange for, he noted that Phillipe came from the hotel and hailed a cab. He laughed softly and grinned at Laura. "He's taken the bait," he told her.

"What's our first stop?" she asked

"Where are those brochures that the desk gave us?" he asked. "Pick a place."

"But-"

He took her hand in his and glanced at her. "I know what I'm doing, love," he assured her. "Trust me." His blue gaze slid from her back to the road as he allowed her to digest his words. "Found a place yet?" he asked at last, reluctantly releasing her hand to change gears. *Keep it light, Mate* he told himself. *Keep it light.*

Remington made a couple of telephone calls when they stopped, all the while conscious of Phillipe's menacing presence down the street. When they returned to the car, he told Laura, "I think I'd like to see downtown. You know, the parts most people just pass by?"

Laura looked at him strangely, but didn't say anything as he drove along, peering at street signs. They entered a rather disreputable section of Honolulu, and he could tell she was about to burst with questions when he finally said, "Ah, here we are."

She looked up at the sign on the building beside them. "Paul's Pawnshop?" she questioned.

"Hmm," he muttered. "Never know what kind of treasures one might find in such a place," he told her as he joined her, looking around.

"He's still there," Laura informed him.

"Like the proverbial bulldog," Remington noted. "Shall we, love?" he asked, ushering her toward the shop.

Paul Kaialoni smiled as the bell rang above the door, signaling their entrance. "Hello there. Can I help you?" he asked eagerly. "I have some Hawaiian souvenirs on that table," he informed them. "Best money can buy."

Laura moved over to the table that he indicated, picking up a little hula dancer with traditional grass skirt. Turning it over, she read the label and frowned. "Made in Taiwan?"

Paul grinned and lifted his shoulders as Remington smiled at him. "Actually, we're not interested in souvenirs. Leighton Sinclair suggested I get in touch with you." Laura glanced at Remington, trying to remember where she had heard the name he'd mentioned. "Said you'd have what I was looking for."

Paul's round face was split by his white smile. "Ah, yes. He called me. Said to expect a friend of his."

Remington held out his hand. "Michael O'Leary," he supplied.

"I think I have what you need back here," Paul told them, opening a gate in the counter and leading them to a curtained doorway. "This way."

 

Laura watched as Remington stowed the box that Paul had given them in the trunk of the car, then got inside. "Leighton Sinclair," she mused as her memory clicked. "Daniel Chalmers' passports. _He's_ been to Hawaii?"

"Several years ago," Remington confirmed.

Laura sat back. "We should have everything we need now," she decided.

"We might. But our friend back there doesn't," he told her. "Let's find someplace to have a bit of lunch, shall we?" he suggested, tapping the brochures again.

She examined them, then chose a small restaurant that Remington nodded about. "Excellent choice," he agreed. He followed her direction, parking the car around a corner from their choice. "Yes," he said. "This should work quite nicely.

Noting Laura's confusion, he joined her beside the car. Taking her arm, he led her around the corner, only to stop and turn back. "What are you doing?" she asked. Remington motioned for her to join him in peering around the building.

Phillipe DeMoray exited his cab and approached the red car. After a furtive look around, he pulled out a lock pick and opened the trunk to inspect the contents of the box…

After he returned to his cab, Laura looked up at Remington as they continued to the restaurant. "You knew he would do that, didn't you?"

"I would have," he admitted. "Now he knows precisely what we're up to. And no one goes to all of the trouble of gathering those things unless they're ready to make a move."

Laura's brown eyes searched his face as they sat down. "You're enjoying all of this entirely too much, you know."

"Nonsense. But if we're going to play the game, we have to do it right."

She reached across to touch his hand. "Just so long as you remember that it IS just a game," she admonished. "Because we are NOT going to steal those gems."

Remington's blue eyes met hers. "Believe me, Laura, there's only one gem that interests me at the moment. And it's not Royal Lavulite." He would have said more, but the waitress approached the table, forestalling any further attempt at conversation.

 

Mildred stood in the balcony doorway of her room, watching the mass of people on the sandy white beach below. Behind her, the young maid was attending to making the bed, and Mildred took the opportunity to garner some information. She asked the girl, whose nametag read "Lanii", how long she had worked at the hotel, and if she'd ever worked on the fourth floor.

"Oh, no. The Honeymoon Suites are taken care of by only the best, most trusted staff, Miss Krebs," she'd said. Sucking in her lower lip, she quickly amended, "That doesn't mean that any of us are _less_ trustworthy," she said. "It's just that those suites are assigned on the basis of seniority."

"I understand," Mildred reassured the girl. "So you have to work here for a long time to take care of that floor."

"That's right." Lanii smiled slyly. "You're certainly curious, Miss Krebs. It wouldn't be that you're thinking about having a honeymoon of your own, would it?"

Mildred laughed softly. "At my age? No, no. My niece is getting married soon and I thought that maybe I'd pay for them to honeymoon here. Are the rooms nice?"

"Oh, yes," she said. "My friend Jenny works up there," she explained as she fluffed a pillow. "She took me with her one day- don't tell anyone, please. It's VERY against the rules."

"Don't worry, hon. Your secret's safe with me."

"It was heaven," Lanii said dreamily. "Silk sheets, candles, bath oils- the whole nine yards."

"Sounds nice. How many of the staff are assigned to that floor?"

"Three maids per shift," Lanii explained as she finished the bed. "Two bell hops except during the evening when it's goes up to four. And they're _very_ discreet. If you know what I mean. Jenny once told me about how she went into a room and found a couple there- they'd been so lost in each other that they'd forgotten to put out the "Do Not Disturb" sign and, well- they never knew she was there. She backed out of the suite and never said a word."

"Except to you."

The young maid's face reddened with embarrassment. "Well, she and I are best friends. We tell each other everything."

Mildred laughed softly and picked up a brochure from the desk as she followed the girl into the main suite. "Oh, a luau," she said.

Lanii nodded with a smile. "The hotel has one every night. Since you arrived so late yesterday, maybe you should go tonight. I'll be there, too."

"Working?"

The young Hawaiian woman dropped the pillow she was fluffing and drifted her hands gracefully from side to side. "Dancing the hula," she explained. "We get extra money. Of course, the dance at the luau is nothing like the _real_ hula, but if it keeps the guests happy, that's what counts, isn't it?"

"I suppose. I think I will go the luau, Lanii," Mildred decided. "But right now, I'm going to have some lunch."

She went to the elevators, but instead of pressing the "down" arrow, she pushed the "up" one. Luckily the cage was empty when it arrived, and she got on, quickly pressing the button for the fourth floor.

The door to the stairway was across and a little down from Room 402, and Mildred cautiously opened the door to listen for any sounds in the stairwell. It was quiet. But the sound of the door behind her opening sent Mildred through the doorway, where she watched through a narrow slit as two men came from the room.

"Well, it's done. How long did you say they'll be here?"

"Another few days," the second one supplied. "Are you getting as tired of this as I am?" he asked, and Mildred gasped softly as she saw them turn toward the stairway door. Releasing the knob, she hurried up to the next level, hiding in a dark corner.

"Tired? Of what?" the first one asked, and Mildred held her breath as the voices moved downward- away from her.

"Taking the risks and not getting anything out of it, really."

"Hey, they pay pretty well, man."

"Not enough to cover the risk. If we get caught with that stuff-, you think they'll come to our rescue?"

"You got another idea about how to make this kind of money, man?"

"Maybe. I was talking to a guy last night, said…" the voices faded as another door closed.

Mildred sank against the wall as her knees gave way. She need to get in touch with Miss Holt and Mr. Steele and let them know that the drugs were planted and that it was time for them to go home…
 
To Be Continued…

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Original content ©2000 by Nancy Eddy