Remington leapt to his feet. "I'll get it," he said, moving away. "Have to check on dinner, anyway."
Lifting herself from the pool, Laura grabbed a towel and rubbed her hair. Sitting down, she thought back over the last month since Remington had been released from the hospital. In their personal life, things were going well. They had moved in together, Remington giving up the penthouse and Laura the loft with barely a look back.
Even Laura's mother had accepted their cohabitation without too much fuss, surprising Laura. When she had dropped by for a surprise visit a week ago, Remington had pulled Abigail Holt aside and spoken quietly with her. After that, she had been Little Mary Sunshine, all smiles and well wishes.
The only cloud seemed to be Mildred's inability to track down Daniel's whereabouts.
At the office, however, things were less than perfect. Dr. Barnes had insisted that Remington keep a light work load for at least a month to give his shoulder time to heal completely. And Remington had apparently taken the doctor at his word. He had become again the figure head that he had been during the early days, leaving the agency and its clients for Laura to handle with Mildred's help. Very rarely did he spend more than a few hours a day in the office now, and it troubled Laura.
Oh, he was always here, dinner almost ready when she came in the door, but at times, he seemed to be distancing himself from his life here- more and more looking into the distance as he had been tonight. Only last week, he had come to the office to find Laura at her wits end with a client who was insisting on speaking to Remington Steele and not a "secretary or whatever she was".
Remington had faced the man down, earnestly assuring him that "I have the utmost confidence in Miss Holt, Mr. Davies. She's more than simply an associate of the Agency- she's probably its most valuable asset. I can assure you that whenever you're speaking to her, you're speaking to me. If that's not good enough for you, then you're more than welcome to find another agency to handle your case. Good day." And he'd left as quickly as he'd come in.
It wasn't only to clients that he'd made that statement. In a newspaper interview soon after his release from the hospital, he had called Laura his "partner, in every sense of that word." When she'd asked him about it, he had simply told her that it was past time that she got the credit she deserved for all of her hard work, then gotten that far away look again.
A shiver went down Laura's spine as she watched him through the windows of the kitchen. She'd seen that look before- and with a sudden insight remembered where it had been. Her father. She'd noticed that same look on his face just before he'd left. She forced herself to remain calm, to try and think this through rationally. If he wanted to leave, she couldn't stop him. She knew that. She just hoped she was wrong.
Remington smiled as Laura came into the kitchen, dressed now, her wet hair braided in a single plait. "Thought I'd make something light this evening," he told her, setting a plate before her at the table.
Laura sighed. Light. Fettuccini Alfredo? She smiled at him. "If this is your idea of light, I'd hate to see what a heavy meal would be." He picked up his own fork with an echoing smile. "Who was on the phone?" she asked.
"Wrong number," he told her, chewing.
"Been a lot of those lately. Maybe we should change the number."
"Have there been? I hadn't noticed," he said, taking a drink of his wine. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. These things usually sort themselves out."
"Are you going to be in the office for that meeting with Mr. Hamilton tomorrow?" she asked.
"What time?"
"Ten."
He looked thoughtful before answering. "Ten. I think I can make it."
"Has Dr. Barnes mentioned how much longer he wants you to stay on light duty?"
"Another few days, anyway. The shoulder's responding well to the therapy. Another few treatments should do the trick."
Laura picked at her food. "It will be nice to have you back in the office on a full time basis," she told him.
"Why, Laura," he said, smiling, "that's one of the nicest things you've ever said to me."
"I mean it," Laura insisted, reaching across to cover his hand with hers. "Whether you like it or not, you've become Remington Steele. That's not going to change." Her eyes met his, trying to tell him how much she wanted him to stay, how much she cared.
"I know. Eat. I saw that load of paperwork that you carried in this evening. "I thought we might-tackle it together?" he suggested.
"You? Volunteering to do paperwork, Mr. Steele?" she teased.
"Must be the boredom turning my mind to mush," he replied, pouring another glass of wine.
***
Laura finished the last of the paperwork, and slid the pages into
her briefcase. Glancing at Remington, she was disconcerted to
see that distant expression back on his face. "Hey there,"
she said softly, breaking into his thoughts.
"Sorry. All this paperwork- dazed me, I suppose."
"It's not the first time you've been somewhere else lately," she told him. He glanced at her, then away. "Where are you when you leave?"
"Nowhere, really. Just- trying to get things clear in my mind, that's all."
"You're with Daniel, aren't you?" Laura guessed. "Wherever he is."
Remington sighed deeply. "Oh, Laura. It's been a whole bloody month, and not one single, solitary word- not even a glimmer."
"Mildred's doing all she can," Laura reminded him.
"She doesn't have the time to devote to it," Remington said. "With having to help you with clients and run the office, she's got her hands full."
"You've been looking, haven't you?"
"I've made a few calls, yes."
"Did you try his doctor in London again?"
"He still refused to tell me anything. Except that the last time he did let slip that his reticence was imposed upon him by Daniel. Apparently Daniel's told him NOT to give me any information about his condition or whereabouts." He lifted her hand to his lips. "I don't want to think about it anymore tonight," he told her. "Let's go upstairs, eh?"
"Okay," Laura agreed in a gentle tone. She rose to her feet and held out her hand for him to take.
"I'll meet you up there once I've seen to the locks and lights," he said.
Laura wasn't sure why, but the idea of letting him out of her sight for even a few minutes was troubling. So she bent down and gave him a long, promise filled kiss. "Don't be too long, Mr. Steele," she whispered. "It's been a long day, and a tiring one."
"Well maybe I should just let you get some sleep, then," he told her.
"Not on your life," Laura replied, smiling. "You've got ten minutes to secure the doors and turn off the lights, Mr. Steele. More than enough time for me to -slip into something more comfortable, as they say." She moved through the door and into the hallway that would lead her to the stairs.
Remington sat there for a moment after she was gone, his eyes on the half empty glass of wine in his hand. His life SHOULD have been everything he'd always wanted it to be. He and Laura were finally together, and heading, hopefully, toward a shining future. And it would have been. Except for one important detail. "Dammit, Daniel, where the bloody hell are you?" he asked into the quiet room.
***
"Here's the Jacobsen file, Miss Holt," Mildred Krebs
said as she placed the folder on Laura's desk.
"Thanks, Mildred." She glanced at her watch and sighed deeply.
"What's wrong, hon?" Mildred asked in her best mother hen voice.
"It's almost ten. Mr. Hamilton is due any minute, and he expects to meet Remington Steele this time." She got up from her desk and went to the door to look toward the front doors of Suite 1157. "He said he would be here."
"Mr. Hamilton? You know he will. Man's ALWAYS right on the dot."
"I meant Mr. Steele, Mildred," Laura corrected.
"You've handled difficult clients before, Miss Holt," Mildred reminded her.
"I'm trying to move the Agency in a new direction, Mildred," Laura said. "More toward the security aspect of things and away from-" she paused, looking for the words.
"Murder and mayhem?" Mildred supplied. "So that there's not as much chance of you or Mr. Steele getting hurt again?"
"I'm sure we won't be totally able to leave that behind," Laura sighed.
"They DO tend to follow you and the Chief," Mildred agreed. "What does he think about this- change in direction?"
Laura turned toward Mr. Steele's office and entered, surveying the room to make sure that everything was in its proper place. Of course it was. HE was never here enough to mess it up anymore. OF course, he'd never messed the office up. She'd never really given him the chance to. But then, he hadn't volunteered, either.
Mildred followed her. "You haven't told him, have you?"
"It's my agency," Laura reminded Mildred. "If I want to-"
"Hold it right there. I seem to recall not two weeks ago, Mr. Steele standing right here and announcing that you were as much a partner in this agency as he is. I thought it was a team effort- and that means you're BOTH in on major decisions."
Laura's shoulders sagged as she was forced to admit that Mildred was right. The looked up as a man's voice reached them from the reception area. "Hello?"
"Mr. Hamilton," Laura hissed. "Stall him for just a minute, will you? I'm going to try and locate Mr. Steele."
"You got it, hon."
Laura picked up the telephone and called the number for the house. No answer. And Fred told her that Mr. Steele had taken the Auburn, insisting that the stick shift was good exercise for his shoulder. According to Maria, their housekeeper, he had left the house an hour ago, but hadn't said where he was going. "Thank you, Maria," Laura said. "If he comes back- WHEN he comes back, have him call me, please." She hung up the telephone and went to the door. "Mr. Hamilton. How nice to see you again. Won't you come in?"
Hamilton, a non-descript little man with short grey hair, looked around the office. "Where is Mr. Steele?"
"He's been delayed," Laura covered. "In traffic. He asked me to relay his humblest apologies to you." She sat down in the chair, and he took the sofa. "Now. I think we were discussing security arrangements for the three galleries that-"
"I really wanted to meet Mr. Steele before we carried this any further, Miss Holt. Nothing against you, but I prefer to deal with the person whose name is on the door."
"I can assure you, Mr. Hamilton, that any agreements you make with me will be honored by Mr. Steele. In fact, we were discussing your needs last night- and he came up with an idea that I think you'll like."
Evidently the belief that "Mr. Steele" himself had been studying the proposed security system was enough for Hamilton. "What idea?"
Two hours later, Laura walked a satisfied Mr. Hamilton to the door. Or at least, she thought he was satisfied- until he turned at the door and said, "Once I meet Mr. Steele face to face, I think we can discuss a contract, Miss Holt. When do you think that might take place?"
"Mr. Steele's a very busy man, Mr. Hamilton," Laura hedged. "Tell you what, why don't I bring him by YOUR office? It might be easier to arrange."
"I'll be expecting you, then. Good day, Miss Krebs."
Mildred nodded, watching Laura as she stalked back to her own office, anger evident in every step. "When I get through with that man," Laura was saying as Mildred got to the office, "he's going to WISH that bullet had done a LOT more damage than it did!"
"Oh, hon. I'm sure he has a good explanation for not being here," Mildred said. "He probably got held up by-"
"By the racetrack," Laura finished. "Or an old friend who needed his help. Or, or-" Laura sat down heavily, frustrated. "Damn!"
Mildred watched the younger woman and was about speak when she heard something in the adjoining office. Her eyes met Laura's as Laura sat up. It sounded like a desk drawer opening and closing.
"Mildred?" That woman and Laura both hurried into the reception area at the sound of Remington's voice. "Ah, there you are. Would you happen to know where my passport might have gotten off to? I can't find it in my desk-"
Mildred went around her desk to pull the wallet from inside. "Here you go."
"So you finally decided to join us, Mr. Steele," Laura said from the doorway of her office. "A bit late, but-"
Remington was examining the passport, but looked up, frowning at her tone. "Late?"
"Ten o'clock?" she reminded him. "Mr. Hamilton?"
"Oh, damn. I'm sorry, Laura. I was tied up-" His eyes looked over bright, Laura thought. As if he were excited about something. "Did you manage to calm the man's fears?"
"I think so. But he still wants to meet you before signing any contracts. Why do you need your passport?" she asked.
"It's customary to take one along when one is planning a trip overseas," he told her.
"And are you? Planning a trip overseas?"
"My flight leaves in two hours," he told her.
"And when were you going to tell me about it? Or were you just planning on disappearing again like the last time?"
"Laura, I'm here now, and I'm telling you about it. If I'd wanted to slip off, do you really think I would have come here to get this?" he asked, holding up the passport.
"He's got a point, Miss Holt," Mildred agreed.
"I found him, Laura," Remington announced quietly.
"Found- Daniel?"
Remington nodded. "You did, Chief?" Mildred asked. "I've been beating my head against a brick wall, trying to dig something up, and you-"
"You didn't have the time I did to apply yourself, Mildred. And you don't know the right people to contact. I do."
"So," Laura asked warily. "How did you find him?"
"I called his doctor in London again. He finally broke that damned code of silence."
"And you were just going to take off?"
"I didn't think you'd be willing to up and leave the Agency right now," Remington said in a defensive manner. "Besides, this is my problem- I didn't feel that I could ask-"
Laura turned on her heel and went into his office. "Laura!" Mildred shooed him in that direction with her hands. "Laura," he said, following her into the other room to find her standing at the window, looking down. "Laura-"
"You're the one who said we were partners in everything, remember?" she said, not looking at him.
"Yes, but-"
"But nothing. Being partners means that we share all of it. Not just the good times, but the bad times, too. Every time you get the tiniest hint of a lead to your past, you just take off. You've done it twice- If you're going to keep doing it, then I don't think this is going to work-"
Remington put his hands on her arms. "Oh, love. I'm sorry. I really thought you'd refuse to go. I know that you and Daniel never got along. But I'd be more than grateful for the support, if you want to come with me."
"Mildred," Laura called out, and wasn't surprised to hear a response just outside the room.
"Yes, Miss Holt?"
"Do you think you can handle the office for a few days?"
"Sure. If I can call Marvin in, that is."
"Do it. And book another reservation on a flight to-" she turned to look at Remington. "Where are we going?" she asked.
"Ireland."