"Or Eileen," Laura suggested.
"Nonsense. MY mother would never think of interrupting us," he said, referring to the fact that Laura's mother tended to have the same terrible sense of timing as Mildred.
RIIING!!!!
"I guess we'd better answer it," Laura told him.
"Hmm," he agreed, returning to her feet before reaching over to pick up the receiver. "Steele here."
"Oh, good. You're home. How's Mrs. Steele?"
"Ah, Mildred," Remington said, and Laura stifled another laugh as she pointed in the direction of the bedroom and bath beyond, moving out of his arms. "Laura's fine. Just heading for a hot bath, actually."
"I guess they arrested the Rat, right, Chief?"
Remington hesitated. "Let's just say that Antony won't be causing any further trouble, Mildred," he hedged. "I'll explain later."
"Sure. I guess you two won't be coming into the office today?"
He frowned. "Mildred, you're not still at the office, are you?"
"Well, yes, I am. It's after nine- and someone needs to be here to for the clients-"
"Reschedule any appointments, alert the answering service, lock the doors and go home," he told her. "You were up all night. Take a long weekend. You earned it."
Mildred hesitated, even though he could hear how tired she was over the line. "What would Mrs. Steele say?" she asked.
"I'll square it with Laura," Remington promised. "Is Eileen still there as well?"
"Oh, no. I had Fred take her back to her hotel as soon as the call came in that Mrs. Steele was okay. She was exhausted. I told her I'd have you call as soon as you could."
"I'll do it as soon as I hang up. We'll see you Monday, okay?"
"Okay. Tell Mrs. Steele that I'm glad she's okay."
"Will do. And Mildred- thanks again for everything."
"I didn't do anything."
"You found the cabin," he reminded her. "See you."
He hung up and then hesitated over calling Eileen. News of Tony's death wasn't something he wanted to break over the telephone. Going to the bathroom, he pushed the half open door farther open to find Laura sitting in a tub of bubbles, her head back against the porcelain, eyes closed. Leaning in the doorway, he looked at her, giving silent thanks that he had found her.
"What did Mildred have to say?" she asked without opening her eyes.
"And how did you know I was here?" he asked, coming over to sit on the edge of the tub, drawing little pictures in the bubbles.
"I felt the cooler air when you opened the door," she explained, smiling as Remington's hand slipped beneath the white froth to touch her skin. "And I think I should know your cologne by now, don't you?"
"She just wanted to tell you that she's glad you're okay. I told her to close the office and take a long weekend," he informed her, watching her carefully for any sign of anger at his having made that decision.
"Good. She was probably there all night. I think the murder and mayhem will wait until Monday morning, don't you, Mr. Steele?"
"I hope so." His hand traced the curve of her hip.
"Did you call your mother?"
"Not yet. I'd rather talk to her in person when I tell her what happened."
Laura nodded, opening her eyes. "When WE tell her what happened," she amended his words. She lifted a hand to run a finger along the buttons of his shirt. "Why don't we ask her to dinner this evening?" she suggested.
"I considered it," he admitted, as his hand slid up to cover her breast. "But I wasn't sure you felt like going out," he told her.
"Why go out? You can fix something here, can't you? Dazzle her with your culinary gifts?"
Remington grinned. "The last time I tried that-"
"Was when my mother and Frances and Donald came over just after we got back from Ireland," she noted. "And you won them over, didn't you? You're starting ahead of the game with Eileen. You've already got her wrapped around your little finger, I'm sure."
"I think it might be the other way round," Remington said. "I'll call her," he said, starting to stand, only to have Laura grab his arm and pull him into the tub with her. "Laura- the floor," he said in a half hearted tone of concern.
"We'll clean it up later," she said, giving him a kiss. "Right now, I need someone to wash my back."
"Whatever you say," he agreed as she began unbuttoning his shirt. "Your wish is my command."
Laura entered the kitchen and paused in the doorway, watching Remington work. She envied his obvious ease in this area. He was such a neat cook, she thought not for the first time. Whenever she cooked, the kitchen looked as if it were ready to be declared a disaster area. It was one reason why Remington always seemed to beat her to the kitchen. Anything out of place in what he considered his domain bordered on the tragic. Taking a deep breath, she had to admit that he knew what he was doing.
She moved closer to him, sliding her arms around his waist as he stood at the stove stirring something in a pot. "Smells wonderful."
He covered the pot and adjusted the fire before turning into her arms. "So do you." He gave her a lingering kiss.
"Is there anything I can do?" she asked.
Remington smiled at her. "I think you did it already," he told her.
Laura grinned. "I meant in the kitchen."
"Ahh. You could get the wine- and set the table."
"At last. Something I can do well."
He gave her another quick kiss before going to check on the main course in the oven. "That's why we make such a good team. We each have our strengths that compliment the other. I'm a good cook, you set a mean table."
Laura laughed, finding a wine and holding it out for him to approve. "How about this one?"
Remington studied the label, then nodded. "Excellent choice."
"What time is Eileen supposed to arrive?" Laura asked, taking the plates out to the table.
"Any minute," he called back, opening the wine and pouring them each a glass.
The doorbell rang, and Laura glanced up. "At least she's punctual," was her comment as Remington came from the kitchen. "That's something that you DIDN'T get from her," she teased gently.
"Really, Laura. I think I've gotten much better in that department over the last few years, considering that I'd never had to punch a time clock before."
Laura followed him to the door, fully expecting Eileen to embrace Remington first, but the woman barely greeted her son, going instead to give Laura a hug. "I'm so pleased that you're all right, Laura. Remington was so worried when you vanished. And I feel responsible in that I played into Antony's hands as I did."
"You had no way of knowing what he was doing, Eileen," Laura insisted, are arm around the woman's shoulders. "You trusted him."
"It seems I've made a career out of trusting the wrong people, doesn't it? Daniel, my father, now Antony. Believe me, when I see that young man again, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind."
Laura met Remington's blue gaze over Eileen's shoulder. "At least he brought you and Remington together," Laura reminded her. "We should be grateful for that."
Eileen turned to look at Remington. "I'm not ignoring you, dear. I was just so relieved-" she gave him a hug. "Something smells delicious."
"Did you get any sleep?" Remington asked as Laura took her coat into the bedroom?
"A bit. I had only just gotten to the hotel when the papers that Father's solicitor told me about arrived. But we'll discuss them later," she said, looking at the movie posters on the wall. "You really are a fan, aren't you?"
"Remington's amazing," Laura chimed in. "He can come up with a movie for almost any case we handle- and usually it helps solve the puzzle."
"I can't believe that you actually admitted that," Remington said.
"We each have our talents, remember?" she said with a smile.
"I suppose Antony's in jail?" Eileen asked.
"Why don't we have dinner and then we'll talk about the events of the last twenty four hours?" Remington suggested. "I think my chicken's burning. Won't be a moment. Pour some drinks, will you, Laura?"
Eileen watched him go with concerned eyes. "He doesn't want to tell me something, does he?"
Laura froze in mid-pour. "I'm sure it's just that he's nervous- cooking for you for the first time and all. Finding his family has become very important to Remington." She handed Eileen a glass of the wine.
"I'm sure it has. He told me a little about his childhood- it's amazing that he survived at all."
"He came from good stock," Laura pointed out. "And after a time, he had Daniel- or Harold."
"Daniel will do. I'm beginning to realize that I'm going to have to change my life to fit into the role of Remington Steele's mother."
"You don't have to change anything," Remington said as he returned to perch on the arm of Laura's chair. "Dinner needs another minute or two," he explained. "Just be yourself."
"And how are you going to explain my having a different name than you to people like Lt. Jarvis?"
Laura smiled. "Remington's very good at coming up with stories."
"Including one about Antony?" Eileen asked.
A buzzer went off in the kitchen, and Remington jumped to his feet. "That's the timer. If you ladies will make your way to the table, dinner will be served momentarily," he said quickly as he headed back into the kitchen.
"You see, my dear?" Eileen said to Laura as they moved into the dining area, "His nervousness has something to do with Antony."
Remington had brought out the side dishes earlier, and now carried the lemon chicken to the table, setting it down with a flourish. "Voila," he said, refilling the wine glasses.
"It looks delicious, Remington," Eileen commented. "But I'm afraid I won't be able to enjoy it until I know what it is that you're trying not to tell me about Antony."
Remington practically squirmed under that intensely blue gaze. "Eileen- Mother-Antony- "
Laura took the ball and ran with it. "Tony realized that contrary to what he'd thought, John Walters hadn't been a low level sleeper agent, but a major spy. He was furious at having been duped by a man he'd considered a friend, and when Walters tried to escape, Tony tried to stop him." She paused, recalling that awful moment. "In the struggle, Walters' gun went off- and-"
"Antony was shot?" Eileen finished. "Is he in hospital?" she asked, but the look on Laura and Remington's faces must have put an end to that hope. "He's dead?"
"I'm- afraid so," Laura said.
"Apparently," Remington said at the same moment, and both women looked at him. Seeing their curious expressions, he explained his suspicions. "As we started to walk away," he told Laura, "I glanced back and could have sworn that I saw Antony's chest rise and fall. I dismissed it as an hallucination. But when the paramedics rushed past us, almost knocking us off the path, I wondered why they were in such a rush to help two men who were already dead."
Laura looked thoughtful. "Jackson never sent out a call that they were dead, did he?" she realized.
"Do you think he's alive, then?" Eileen asked her son.
"Possibly. But even is he is, the CIA has him at the moment, and until they're satisfied, I doubt they'll be willing to admit anything."
"Not even to his family?"
"Antony's not family, Mother," Remington said firmly. "He's a step cousin, and-."
"Still family in my opinion," Eileen said with matching firmness, and Laura sat back, watching as Remington backed down.
"I'll speak to Agent Jackson next week," he promised. "And I'll ask him about it. But I wouldn't expect an answer."
"That's all I want, for you to at least ask."
Remington took her hand in his. "I will. For you." He picked up his fork. "Now eat before it gets cold. Lemon chicken is best when it's warm."
After dinner, Eileen insisted on helping the two of them clear the table. "It's a bit of a novelty for me, I suppose," she admitted self-consciously. "We always had servants to do it when I was younger, and most of my marriage was spent in hotels. I suppose I'll have to get used to doing things for myself. But you know, I think I'm looking forward to it."
"Good for you," Laura said brightly. "There's no reason why you shouldn't be able to do anything you want to do."
"I know," Eileen agreed as they moved into the living room. "Mildred and I were discussing that very thing while she looked for clues last night. She's not much younger than I am; yet, she's so much more independent. And she cares a great deal for both of you."
"The feeling's mutual," Remington said, smiling. "But I'm sure we can find someplace for you here so that you won't have to-"
"Oh, but I want to," Eileen insisted. "I can't really explain it, but- I really want to learn how to do things for myself, Remington. I can cook, you know. Oh, nothing like what you can do. But I managed to learn a bit from our cook at home. Enough that I wouldn't starve to death, at any rate." She looked around the apartment again. "I could be happy in a place like this, actually. It's rather cozy and warm." She peered toward the one door. "Only one bedroom?"
"We've been considering finding a house," Remington told her. "But can't seem to agree on one that we both like."
"Ah."
"Just because I don't think we need six bedrooms, a pool and a guest house, he thinks I'm being difficult."
"And what would you prefer, Laura?" Eileen asked.
"Something small, less grand. Three or four bedrooms."
"In the suburbs," Remington said darkly.
"It's more in our price range," Laura pointed out, not really wanting to get into this argument right now. "We can't afford something in -"
"We have an image to maintain, Laura," Remington reminded her.
"I don't think this is the time to discuss this," Laura said pointedly, looking at Eileen.
"I'm sorry, Mother," Remington said, suddenly realizing that he had slipped effortlessly into using the term.
"Don't be. Perhaps I can help. Would you be a dear and get my handbag, Laura?"
"Mother, I can't accept money-" Remington began, but Eileen held up her hand to silence him as Laura returned and handed her the purse.
"I said that Father's solicitor had sent the papers he spoke of yesterday, remember?" She pulled a manila envelope from her purse, and carefully opened the flap. "It seems that Father's conscience was bothering him toward the end of his life. Especially after Edward died. He realized that once he was gone, I'd be alone. So he changed his will, and wrote two letters." She pulled out two envelopes. "This one was to me. It's a confession of everything he did- lying to me, putting you up for adoption, an admission that Daniel came to see him upon his release from prison looking for me and you. He DID tell Daniel that I was dead and that you'd been adopted out- and for precisely the reason you thought he had, Laura. To hurt Daniel. He knew where you were for the last four years," she told Remington. "Since your trip to Ireland and your saving of that race horse. He sent you that check, but after Edward died, he realized that wasn't going to be enough. He left you half of his estate once the company is sold."
"Half?" Laura questioned. She had seen how much Michael O'Casey had been worth in those reports Mildred had done up. Remington rose from the chair, and went to the window. "Remington-"
"The man shoves me out the door less than a day after I'm born and thirty odd years later decides to try and make up for it," he said in a quiet voice. "I don't want his money."
"It will be yours anyway, one day," Eileen reminded him. "Read the letter, dear," Eileen said, her own voice just as quiet. "And then make your decision. He never intended you to stay in those awful places. He'd just gotten up his courage to tell me the truth and get you back when you ran away and disappeared." She held out the envelope. "Read it, Remington."
"I'm sorry, Mother, but-"
Eileen laid the envelope on the table then rose and placed a hand on his arm. "I'll leave it here for you to read when you're ready. You don't have to make a decision now. You and Laura take your weekend and forget everything else."
"And what will you do this weekend?" Laura asked.
"Mildred's offered to help me find a place to live," Eileen said. "I'll be fine." She gave Laura a kiss on the cheek, and then embraced Remington. "Let me know when you get home."
"I will. Thank you."
Laura turned and followed Eileen to the door. "He'll be okay," she said softly.
"I hope so. Enjoy your weekend." Laura nodded and closed
the door behind the woman, then turned back to where she'd left
Remington- only to find the living room empty.
To Be Continued---