As she picked up the telephone to contact the answering service, a sound from Mr. Steele's office made her freeze. Someone else was in the office. Very carefully, Mildred located the agency gun in her desk- but there were no bullets in the cylinder. Oh, well, the Chief had bluffed his way through with an empty gun once, maybe she could do it this time. And even the sight of the weapon might make whoever was in there think twice.
Forcing her hand to stop shaking, she slowly sidled over to the door, and quietly turned the knob, pushing the portal open. "Freeze right there, scumbag," she ordered, and then almost dropped the gun as she saw who it was…
***
"I told you that it wasn't serious," Remington said
to Laura as they returned to the limo. "Just a scratch."
"That's not *precisely* what Dr. Barton said," Laura corrected him. "He said that you were very lucky that it wasn't *more* serious. Light duty, nothing strenuous."
"Basically the same thing the doctor in Hawaii said," Remington agreed. "All right, Laura, I'll agree to every one of Dr. Barton's recommendations."
"Why is it that I hear an *if* coming?" Laura wondered, eyeing him warily.
"*If* you agree to play nursemaid."
Laura turned toward him, glancing forward to make sure that Fred's attention was on traffic. "TLC, eh, Mr. Steele?"
"Something like that, Miss Holt," he agreed, pulling her toward him with his uninjured arm. "Agreed?"
"We do have an agency to run, you know. Someone has to be there-"
"Mildred can handle things. I should be up and around in- say, a week?"
"Dr. Barton said more like two," Laura reminded him, touching her lips to his.
Remington grinned like the cat who had swallowed the canary. "You're giving me an extra week to break down your defenses. I can handle that."
Laura smiled up at him. "Who said my defenses weren't already broken down?" she asked, pulling his head to hers for a longer kiss.
Remington's finger fumbled as he tried to locate the button to raise the dark privacy screen between them and Fred. He knew where it was in the Agency's limo, heaven knows he'd been tempted more than once to use it. But it wasn't in the same place in this car. Suddenly the built in television blared into the silence, causing Laura to pull slightly back. "Damn," Remington muttered. "Trying to find the button to find the bloody privacy screen," he explained, as the action on the small screen caught his attention. Laura moved to shut if off, but he stilled her hand. "It's "Third Man"," he explained. "Orson Welles-"
"Joseph Cotton, 1949," Laura finished. "I know." Shaking her head in amusement, she settled down by his side again. He put his arm around her as they watched the movie together.
***
"Daniel Chalmers!" Mildred said, as the man practically rolled off of the couch. "What are you doing here?"
Daniel looked uncertainly at the gun in her hand as he answered. "Looking for Harry," he told her. "Would you mind putting that thing down somewhere, Mildred?"
"Oh, this? It's not loaded," she confided, but she put it on the table anyway as she sat down in the chair. Daniel remained sitting on the sofa. "You look terrible."
"It's called lack of sleep," Daniel said tiredly. "I don't think I've closed my eyes for more than ten minutes since Harry called me from Hawaii. And when I didn't hear from him, I called an old friend on the island. He told me that DeMoray was dead, but that he'd shot Harry first." Daniel drew a deep, shuddering breath before continuing. "Then he said that Harry had been released from the hospital and was en route back to Los Angeles. I went to his apartment, but he's not there. And Laura's not at her flat- I thought this the best place to wait for one of them to show up. I was going to start calling the local hospitals if no one came in before I woke. Is Harry all right?"
"He's fine. He and Miss Holt are still working on a case- they're undercover."
"Now? But- Harry's wounded. Surely he could be allowed to sit this one out."
"His choice," Mildred said. "Miss Holt offered to let him go back to his place and let finish the wrap up, but he wouldn't hear of it."
"That's Harry, I suppose. Never one to turn down the opportunity for adventure. Thank God he's all right," he sighed, running a hand over his unshaven face.
"You were really worried about him, weren't you?"
"I've seen first hand what DeMoray was capable of. Did he really kidnap Laura?"
"Tell you what, why don't you go in the bath over there and borrow Mr. Steele's razor and freshen up?" Mildred suggested. "And then we'll see about finding you something to eat. I'm willing to bet that you haven't done that, either."
Daniel looked surprised at the realization. "Why, no. No, I haven't."
Mildred picked up the telephone. "Do you like Italian?" she asked.
"Love Italian," he told her with a gleam in his eyes. "But I'm flexible."
Mildred shook her head as the door closed behind him, and dialed up the local Italian restaurant. This was as good a time as any to find out if it was as good a Mr. Steele and Miss Holt said it was, she supposed…
***
As they entered the house again, Laura went to the living room again and looked around. "You know," she said thoughtfully as Remington sat on the sofa, "you're right."
"About what?" he asked. "Just so I know to do it again."
"About that being a good spot for my piano," she told him, going to the window that overlooked the back of the house. "Nice view, too."
Remington studied her for a long moment. "Why the change, Laura?" When she turned to look at him, he said, "Don't get me wrong. I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth, but- when I suggested it, I got the idea that you weren't exactly enthusiastic about the idea."
"I just need some- time, I guess," she told him, coming to join him on the sofa. "I suppose it didn't dawn on me until we were talking to Dr. Barton exactly how close I came to losing you back there. And I discovered that I'm not ready to lose you. I don't think I ever will be."
"That's not what you said at the sensitivity spa," he reminded her.
"No. But I was angry. And sometimes when I'm angry, I say things I don't mean. Hell, you took a bullet meant for *me*."
"I'd take a hundred bullets for you, Laura," Remington said softly. "Don't you know that by now?"
"I guess it's the same old problem. My heart knows it. Has *always* known it. It's just taken awhile for my head to catch up."
"And has it- caught up?" he asked.
"I think so," she said, sliding carefully onto his lap, straddling his hips. "All I know that is right now, this moment, I don't ever want to leave you again. If you had died, I wouldn't have had anything to take with me, to keep me going. Oh, some good times, yes, but not *this*," she told him, pushing her hips forward, toward his. Remington bit back a moan, and Laura froze. "I'm not hurting your shoulder, am I?"
"No," he managed. "You're not hurting me at all. You're making me crazy." He brought his right hand up to pull her head down to his. "What say we christen the house, eh, Mrs. Roby?" He had in mind going upstairs to the bedroom, turning back the covers on that huge bed. But Laura surprised him.
She raised up and started to unbutton her blouse, one button at a time. Once it was unfastened, she slipped it from her shoulders and tossed it across the room, then started on Remington's shirt. "Uh, Laura- here?"
"We'll christen it one room at a time," Laura purred, loosening the final button to run her hands over his chest. She leaned forward to place her lips against the white bandage that covered his left shoulder. Remington closed his eyes, and opened them again. He wasn't dreaming. This was really happening. He and Laura were going to-
KNOCK! KNOCK!
"Damn!" Laura sighed in frustration. "Maybe they'll go away," she whispered.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
"I don't think that's very likely," Remington said. "Better get dressed, love," he said, gingerly beginning to fasten the buttons on his shirt. "Coming!" he called out as Laura stuffed her arms into her white blouse. Closing the door behind him, Remington rushed to the front door. He saw Mildred through the security panel beside it, and prepared to give the woman a piece of his mind for interrupting them yet again.
He pulled open the door, and his anger evaporated as he saw who was with the woman. "Daniel!"
"Harry, my boy," Daniel sighed, obviously relieved as he gave Remington a hug. "Thank goodness you're well." Remington hid the pain that the movement cost him, delighted to see his old friend.
"What took you so long to answer the door, Chief?" Mildred asked. "Daniel was talking about picking the lock. We were getting worried."
"I was- upstairs," he lied. "Resting. Doctor's orders," he told them, rubbing his shoulder. "Well come in, don't stand on the front stoop like salesmen," he said, ushering them into the house. I tried to call you when we got back," he told Daniel. "Now I know why I couldn't reach you."
Inside the living room, Laura heard the voices and sighed. Daniel. That was all she needed. Or *didn't* need. She heard Remington tell them he'd been upstairs resting, and looked for another way out of the room. Her gaze fell on the French doors that led outside...
"Where's Miss Holt, Mr. Steele?" Mildred asked, looking around.
"Around somewhere, I'm sure," Remington said with a nervous laugh. "You know Laura. Never know where she'll turn up."
"Nice house, Harry. Mildred tells me that you're considering buying it?"
"Uh, yes. In fact, it's almost a certainty."
Mildred's smile widened at his words. "That's great, Chief!"
"Then you've decided to stay in Los Angeles?" Daniel questioned.
"This is my home, Daniel," Remington told him in an earnest tone. "The first real home I've had in ages. I'm happy here. It's where I belong."
"You're certain I can't convince you otherwise, Harry?" Daniel said, but his own tone was half-hearted. It was an old game they played, and neither wanted to give it up entirely.
The door opened, and Laura came in to the house. "I thought that was your car outside, Mildred. Hello, Daniel," she saw sweetly, moving to Remington's side and taking his arm in a possessive movement that left little doubt that she *was* in possession. Her smile at Mildred and Daniel was bright.
"Hello, Linda, my dear," Daniel said, giving her a peck on the cheek. "You're looking very well," he said, his eyes moving over her with a gleam of humor.
"And you're looking a bit- worn around the edges," Laura pointed out, indicating the slightly wrinkled appearance of the man before her. "Tell me, Daniel, to what do we owe the pleasure?"
"He was waiting in the office when I got there, Miss Holt," Mildred quickly explained.
"*In* the office?" Remington questioned.
"I went to your apartment and Laura's flat- looking for you. The only other place I could think of was the office- and failing that, I was going to start checking the local hospitals."
Remington saw the worry on Daniel's face. "You heard about what happened in Hawaii, I take it?"
"I called a friend when I didn't hear from you. He told me about DeMoray being shot and killed by the police- after he shot you."
"They wouldn't have released him to come home if it were serious," Laura pointed out.
"I know that. Now. But at the time, and working on a few minutes sleep here and there- I'm afraid my mind wasn't working as clearly as it might have."
"Well, as you can see, I'm fine, Daniel. But I thank you for the concern."
"Your welfare has always been important to me, Harry. Surely you know that."
"I do, Daniel. Tell you what- why don't I show the two of you around the house while Laura freshens up, and then we'll all go out to dinner?"
Laura frowned. "Mr. Steele-" she caught Daniel's sharpened gaze at her words. "Remington, we have an appointment, remember? We're on a case?"
"I think we can work it out, Laura," Remington said, smoothly turning her toward the stairs and taking her out of earshot of the others. "Next time you fasten your blouse, love, you might want to make sure that you do it up right," he whispered into her ear.
Laura glanced down, just realizing that she had buttoned the blouse crooked. She felt the embarrassed blush on her cheeks. "Oh, my-. Excuse me," she said, and dashed up the stairs.
Remington turned back to Daniel and Mildred, the picture of a gracious host. "Shall we begin the tour?"
***
Laura caught up with them quickly, as Remington was showing them
the well appointed kitchen. "I might have known I'd find
you here," she teased gently.
"It's a wonderful room," he insisted, running a hand over the stainless steel cooktop.
Laura grinned. "Can't you just see his mind working?" she asked Daniel and Mildred, "Dreaming of all the gourmet delights he can prepare here?"
"Ah, but Harry's made do with far less," Daniel pointed out.
"But he doesn't *have* to anymore," Laura returned.
"All this talk of food has made me hungry," Remington said, trying to break up their battle of wills.
"Almost anything does that, Chief," Mildred said with a laugh.
"True, Mildred," he agreed. "Why don't we go to dinner? Che Rive, I think."
"Che Rive?" Laura asked, glancing at the windows. It was sufficiently dark enough that they could manage, she supposed. "Did you make reservations?"
"Since when do I need reservations at Che Rive, Laura?" he questioned with a wounded look. "Shall we?"
***
Mildred had only driven three blocks away when Laura said, "We'll
get out here, Mildred."
"Get out?" Daniel asked. "I thought we were going to dinner."
"We are," Remington assured him. "But I'm afraid it will have to wait until after Laura and I finish our business," he said, following Laura from the car.
"Ah, yes. The case Mildred mentioned. But Harry, are you certain that you should be out there, trying to catch drug smugglers in your condition?"
"I'll be fine, Daniel," Remington assured his mentor. "You and Mildred go on ahead to Che Rive. We'll be along as soon as they make their move."
"Come on," Laura hissed from the hedges beside them. "Someone's going to get suspicious if we stay here much longer."
Remington tapped the top of Mildred's car twice, making her feel a bit like Fred, and she put the car into gear and turned the corner. Suddenly Daniel's hand fell on her arm. "Stop the car, Mildred."
"What?"
"Please."
Mildred pulled over to the curb. "Daniel-"
"Harry's injured- he shouldn't be out of bed, much less playing Sam Spade. I'll be damned if I let the two of them go in there without anyone to back them up."
"You're not suggesting- Daniel-"
He smiled at her, his teeth white in the darkness of the car. "How about it, Mildred? Are you game to try and help them out?"