Once in their seats, Laura gave Remington a concerned look as he moaned. "Oh, damn," he said.
"What is it?" she asked, thinking his shoulder was hurting.
"Daniel. I forgot to call him. Let him know what happened. I started to have Mildred call when they took me to the hospital, but -"
Laura placed a hand over his. "You can call him as soon as we land," she said softly.
"If I can find him. He's probably gone to ground. At least you know he's safe," she pointed out."
Remington nodded, then sat back, capturing Laura's hand in his. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not taking me to task for mucking things up."
"I wouldn't dream of doing something like that," Laura insisted, then smiled. "You were wounded, you're still in shock, probably in more pain than you want to admit. They'll be time enough later for me to 'take you to task'."
Remington returned her smile. "Well, since you're being so charitable, I suppose I should fill you in on what happened after DeMoray had those two abduct you."
"Might be a good idea," Laura agreed. "I have been a bit- out of the loop." Remington shifted in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the movement seemed to focus everything in his shoulder, and he winced. "Where are those pain pills the doctor gave you?"
"Why?" he asked, digging them from his right pocket.
Laura lifted her hand to signal the flight attendant. "Could you bring some water, please?" Taking the bottle of pills, Laura shook out two. "You're going to take these and get some rest," she informed him in a no-nonsense tone. "Once we get back to LA, we have to catch whoever has been sent to retrieve the drugs they still think that we're carrying." She took the glass of water, and held out both it and the pills to him. "Here you go."
"Laura-" He saw the determination in those brown eyes and sighed in defeat. Taking the pills, he tossed them into his mouth, then swallowed most of the water. "Happy now?"
"You really don't like taking pills, do you?"
"No. Seen too much of what an over dependence on drugs can do to a person, I suppose." The admission was met with a curious glance. "We were discussing my train of thought after you disappeared, weren't we?"
"THIS I can't WAIT to hear," Laura said, sitting back. "I AM a bit curious as to how you got the brilliant idea to steal those gems."
"Oh, that was a given the moment I realized that DeMoray had you in his clutches," Remington said. "Now are you going to listen, or take me to task right now?" Laura sighed and looked at him attentively. He filled her in the events of the previous evening, taking her through his decision to involve the police, "Because it's what you would have done." He told her about his "chance" meeting with Mildred at the luau, and the actual theft of the gems. "I knew you wouldn't like that part of it," he told her. "But I wasn't about to risk DeMoray's losing his temper and killing you. I was sure he was having me watched, since there was no sign of the Frenchman. The gems had to be stolen so that a hue and cry would go up." Then he'd pretended to put them into the hotel safe, so that DeMoray wouldn't have his spy retrieve the gems without returning Laura. "I needed DeMoray to come to me, to bring you back. Of course, I had no way of knowing whether or not Mildred had convinced the authorities that she was on the level. It wasn't until I was asked to come into the hotel office that I knew for certain that she'd succeeded." It was becoming difficult to think clearly, Remington realized. And his eye lids felt heavy. Damn pills. "Should've made him wait as I originally planned," he muttered. "Shouldn't have taken you back in there. Had to make sure, though."
"Make sure?" Laura questioned gently, watching his eyes closing.
"That he wasn't going to be a threat to you anymore. And it put you in even more danger. Would've killed you. Couldn't have that. Too many things to do…yet."
Laura reached out to smooth a lock of dark hair from his forehead. "Get some sleep," she whispered. "We'll talk later." He nodded once, then grew still as his dreams overtook him. She asked the flight attendant for a blanket to place over him, then sat back, keeping an eye on him. She'd come too close to losing him today. And she had suddenly realized that she wasn't ready for that to happen at all.
"How's he doing?"
Laura turned to find Mildred sitting across the aisle in what had been an empty seat. "He's sleeping right now," Laura informed her. "I made him take some pills for the pain."
Mildred nodded in understanding. She, too, had been forced on occasion to confront him with a pill or two. "Too bad you can't just take him back to his place when we get back to LA."
"He can rest once this is finished," Laura pointed out. But she privately agreed with Mildred's statement. What he really needed was rest, not to be running all over LA trying to catch drug dealers. "I'll make sure of that."
Mildred gave her an assessing look. "I know it's none of my business, but- did something happen between you two that first night?"
Laura laid her head back against the seat. "I'm almost as tired as he is, I think," she said, smothering a yawn. "Didn't get much sleep myself last night."
The look on Mildred's face said that she knew what Laura was up to, but she smiled anyway. "You need to sleep too, then. I'll go back to my seat."
"Thanks, Mildred." Laura closed her eyes to make sure the older woman left them, refusing to think about the events of the other night. Instead, she forced herself to focus on the case at hand. If things had gone right, Danny Williams had let Joe and Mac make their telephone call, announcing the departure of Mr. And Mrs. Robie for home. And using the telephone number, they had probably moved in on the location of Joe and Mac's contact after making sure THEY had called the mainland to alert the "retrieval" unit. It would be up to Laura and Remington to play the game to its conclusion. Her eyes still closed, Laura found Remington's hand and held onto it. Once this was over, they had a lot to talk about…
***
After the flight landed in Los Angeles, Mildred disappeared, leaving Laura and Remington to Fred and the limo Mildred had rented on Remington's suggestion. Laura frowned upon seeing it. "Why another limo?" she asked.
"Considering that ours has license plates that announce to the entire world who owns it, I thought it a good idea."
"This case is getting very expensive," Laura sighed. "The trip to Hawaii, a rented limo-,"
Remington reached over to take her hand. "Councilman Maxwell did say he'd pay us well for helping," he reminded Laura. "Stop frowning, love. Things will work out."
As they approached the house he had asked Mildred to give as the address of Mr. and Mrs. John Robie, Remington watched Laura's reaction closely. "It's lovely," she said, looking over the white exterior of the modest, two story house with a gated fence and long, tree shaded drive. "But why here? Let me guess: Your condo or my loft would be too easily traced back to us." Laura looked a bit put out that she hadn't thought of all this.
"Precisely. So I asked my real estate friend to let us borrow this one."
"Is this one of the houses you were looking at?" Laura questioned.
"The last one, actually," he admitted. "I take it that you approve?"
"I'm not sure what it is about it," Laura admitted as he got out of the car. "It just feels like-"
"Like home?" he asked hopefully. She smiled uncertainly. "Shall we, Mrs. Robie?" he asked, producing a key and opening the door with a flourish. Fred struggled behind them, carrying their luggage. "Ah," Remington sighed. "It's good to be home. You can just leave those there, Fred," he told the chauffeur. "And we might be needing you later."
Fred gave him a look that Remington easily read, as if asking "what else is new?", and left them alone.
Remington wandered into the living room, watching as Laura surveyed the area, pausing before a window near the fireplace. "I thought that might be a good spot for a piano," he commented, and smiled when she looked at him.
"*A* piano?"
"Well, yours, anyway," he clarified in a soft voice. The look on Laura's face reminded him of the other morning in Hawaii, when she'd confessed how confused she was. *Okay, mate, you're pushing too hard again,* Remington thought. *Back off, give her some space before she bolts.* He shrugged, then winced, placing his right hand on his shoulder. "We'd better get our cases unpacked."
"Why is the place so well furnished?" Laura wondered. "One would think that it had been lived in recently."
"It has. My friend lived here. She moved out last weekend." When he saw the speculation- and jealousy?- on Laura's face, Remington realized he'd committed a tactical error.
"She?"
"Hmm. Happily married, three kids. They moved to the Valley, bought a bigger place, all new furniture, the whole works." He picked up a suitcase, only to have Laura take it from him.
"You're not supposed to be doing that," she reminded him.
Remington retrieved the case. "I'm not an invalid, Laura. Don't treat me like one, eh?" Having said that, he turned toward the stair, hearing Laura's deep sigh as she picked up the other cases and followed.
He turned unerringly into the master bedroom, and as she entered, Laura commented, "You've been here a few times, haven't you?"
"To this house? Yes. Once or twice, anyway." He lifted the case onto the bed and started to open it, but Laura stepped around him.
"I thought you wanted to call Daniel? I'm going to guess that the telephones still work, since you managed to arrange everything else. And then, we have a doctor to visit."
"A doctor? Laura, I don't think-"
"A doctor, Mr. Steele," she repeated firmly. "You DID notice the car parked just outside the gate as we arrived, didn't you? I'm sure it's the retrieval crew, watching for a chance to get in here."
"We don't have an appointment," Remington reminded her.
"Mildred's taking care of that little detail." She smiled and pointed to the telephone beside the bed. "Now call Daniel."
He sat down and picked up the telephone. "All this fuss over a scratch," he muttered, dialing the number Daniel's London flat. After the sixth ring, he frowned and hung up. "No answer," he said.
"He's probably gone to ground," Laura said.
"Possibly. But I told him two days. It hasn't been that long."
"Do you have any idea where he could have gone?"
"A few." He picked up the phone and dialed again as Laura continued unpacking. She carefully carried the hang up clothing into the closet as she listened to him asking the person on the other end of the line if they had seen or spoken to Daniel. Their few items of clothing looked a bit lost in the huge walk in room. Thinking that it would easily hold Remington's collection of suits, shirts, etc., with room left over for her far more meager wardrobe, she laughed softly. "You're certain about that?" Remington was saying as she came back into the bedroom. "Yes. Please. Thank you." He hung up again, glancing at her. "I'm glad you've found something that amuses you, Laura."
"I was just noticing how big that closet is. It's a room unto itself!"
"One of the things I like about the house," he nodded absently.
"Any leads?"
Remington blinked, his thoughts back with her. "Apparently he made a couple of telephone calls- and then said he had to go and take care of something. All very cryptic."
"He wouldn't go to Hawaii, would he?"
"I've no idea."
Laura sat down beside him, rubbing his back with gentle motions. "At least we know that he's not in any danger since DeMoray is dead. I'm sure he'll surface soon." She reached for the telephone.
"And who are you calling?"
"Mildred. To see if she got in touch with Dr. Barton about an appointment."
"And who's going to watch the house while we're gone?" he asked.
"Hello, Mildred. It's Miss Holt…He will? Excellent work, Mildred…And the call to the police…Excellent again. Everything's fine here. We'll be leaving for Dr. Barton's office soon…Yes, Mildred. I will." She hung up. "Dr. Barton wants you in his office as soon as possible, the police are going to watch the house, thanks to Mildred tipping them off about suspicious people lurking in the area." She pulled him to his feet. "Let's go, Mr. Steele."
"Back to Mr. Steele, are we?" he questioned, but this time with a smile.
"Habit," she told him.
"It's okay. I think I'm getting used to it."
***
Fred was waiting by the limo when they came from the house. He opened the door as Remington locked the house. Getting inside, they both sat back. "Laura, you can't seriously expect me to not be here for the resolution of this case after everything we've been through."
"All of the other break-ins happened after dark," she reminded him.
"There's a first time for everything," he replied.
"Maybe. That's why the police are going to patrol the area," she told him, watching as the gates closed behind them, and then glancing at the nondescript small car that was parked a little way down the street, it's hood up as the driver checked the engine.
A police cruiser passed the limo, and stopped behind the stalled vehicle. The officer spoke to the driver of the car, and before they turned the corner, Laura and Remington saw both cars moving away. "It's amazing how the appearance of a police officer can repair an engine, eh?" Remington noted.
"Fascinating," Laura agreed. "Dr. Barton's office, Fred," she said to the chauffeur.