"You don't have to explain," she insisted, but Harry placed a hand over hers and brought it to his lips.
"But I want to."
"Aren't you tired from your trip?" Laura asked.
"I slept on the flight over," he explained easily.
"Oh," Laura said, sitting back as the limo turned toward Tortino's. Darn him, anyway. She didn't want him to explain why that woman had answered his private line into his London flat, nor why that woman had sounded so proprietary in regards to Harry. It was easier if she stayed angry with him, Laura thought. It would keep her from becoming too dependent, from expecting him to be there all the time.
Laura had a mental picture of the woman who had answered the telephone and coolly informed her that Harry was "Far too busy to be bothered at the moment," before saying to someone else, probably Harry, "The champagne's been chilling, darling, just waiting for you to get home."
Laura had hung up quickly, dropping the telephone as if it had been on fire. The woman was probably tall, blonde, perfectly coiffed and expensively dressed. A quick glance at her own attire made Laura bite back a groan of mortification before she gave herself a mental shake. Why was she so worried about what Harry thought of her? He was just a client, after all. Okay, so he was a client who had managed to inveigle his way into her life- both professionally *and* personally, and who caused every woman's head to turn when they entered a room, but he was still a client.
Getting involved with clients was against the rules. It complicated things to no end. If it wasn't for his having given life to her fantasy boss, Remington Steele, Laura would have strongly considered tossing Harry's money back into his face and telling him to take a hike. She didn't need complications in her life. She'd had enough of those already.
A sideways glance at Harry, however, and all of Laura's good intentions went right out of the window. He was trying so hard to be Remington Steele, to help. "You know, if you're really intent on playing the role of Remington Steele, driving around in this thing isn't very good cover. Eventually, someone's going to run the license plate and trace it back to you."
Harry nodded. "I'd considered that myself. I suppose I need to find another mode of transportation for the elusive Mr. Steele. Something befitting a mysterious private detective." He looked at her. "Sounds as if you're not planning on relegating your fantasy man to the netherworld after all."
Laura shrugged. "It's good for business. And as long as we can keep the press at bay, it might work. That is- unless you have- other things you need to attend to. I could understand. I'm sure you have lots of- responsibilities back in London." *Stop it, Laura!* she silently admonished. *You sounded positively sickening.* "Not that I'm prying," she added quickly.
"No. Of course you're not," Harry said. "And there's nothing to keep me in London on a permanent basis. So, any ideas?" he asked.
"Ideas?" Laura repeated, blinking as she tried to figure out what he meant.
"About a car. Something unusual, I should think. Powerful, sleek."
"Maybe unusual might not be a good idea. Too easy to recognize."
"I'll find something suitable," Harry decided, looking thoughtfully out of the front glass.
Laura tried to hide a yawn, and smiled at Harry when he gave her curious look. "I haven't been getting much sleep," she admitted. "Lots of paperwork with all the new cases." It had nothing at all to do with that telephone call, Laura told herself.
Harry leaned forward. "Change in plans, Fred. Take us to Rossmore." He looked at Laura. "I'll fix something there and then have Fred drop you back to get your car later."
Fred obediently turned the car away from the Italian restaurant and toward Harry's condo.
"I'm sorry," Laura apologized after another yawn. "I hadn't realized how tired I was. Maybe I should just go home instead. I'm afraid one of your culinary marvels would be wasted on me this evening."
"Nonsense. I can always fix some noodle soup. Comes in foil packets. Won't take a moment. And I refuse to consider your going home without having dinner. Besides, I still have to explain why I had to dash off for London that way."
"I told you that you don't owe me-"
"I know. It concerns the Foundation. We've been trying to get our hands on some property- a block of flats that we're going to convert to temporary shelter for families- but the owner wanted far more than they were worth- and more than we could afford to pay. Then, last week- out of the blue, he changed his mind and agreed to sell them for what we offered- with the proviso that I be there in person to sign the paperwork and arrange for him to be paid. Normally, I would have let my agents in London handle it. But this was too important."
"And that took a week?"
"No. I had a few loose ends to clear up while I was there as well."
"Loose ends?" Laura questioned. If he was going to tell her the truth, she might as well let him.
Fred stopped the limo before the Rossmore Arms and opened the door. "We'll call you later, Fred, to take Miss Holt back to get her car."
"Yes sir."
"Might as well grab a bite to eat while you wait, though. No sense in your hanging about down here."
"Thank you, sir."
Steering her into the building and to the lift, Harry answered Laura's question. "I had to make arrangements for a friend to get a new flat in one of the apartments that the estate owns. Found a rather nice one in Kensington."
"And this- friend couldn't find this flat without your help?"
Harry tugged at his ear, torn. This wasn't going to be easy. He wanted to tell Laura the truth, but he wasn't certain of her reaction. "I felt that I owed to her," he admitted as the elevator doors opened onto the fifth floor.
Laura turned to look at him. "A woman." It wasn't a question. "A former employee?"
"Not- precisely," he said slowly, putting the key into the lock. "More like a former-" he paused, opening the door for them, and never finished as a woman rose gracefully from the sofa, wearing only his silk bathrobe.
"Hello, darling," she purred, moving past a shocked Laura to wrap her arms around him and give him a long kiss. "I was beginning to think that you would never get here." She smiled at him. "Surprised, darling?"
"Stunned," Harry admitted, glowering at the tall blonde. "What the hell are you doing here, Felicia? I thought it made it clear in London that it was over-"
"Oh, I know, darling. But you've said those words so often that I've learned to ignore them. Besides, the bed is so cold and lonely without you in it. I can't sleep." She smiled cattily at Laura. "You must be the private detective that Harry told me about. Lisa, isn't it?"
"Laura," Laura corrected in a tight voice, backing toward the still open door. "I'll be going, Harry. Don't let me intrude."
Harry shrugged off Felicia's hold and went toward her, grabbing at her arm. "Laura, let me explain-"
Laura pulled away from him and left the apartment. "Don't," she begged, and Harry wondered who she was talking to. Him- or herself.
He followed her into the hallway as the elevator opened. "Laura, please. Don't go-" He reached the lift just as the doors closed, too late to stop her. He slammed his open palm onto the metal, then took a deep breath.
Turning around, he went back into his apartment, where Felicia was pouring a glass of champagne from the open bottle that had been in the ice bucket on the table. "Okay, Felicia. Let's have it. Why are you here?"
She handed him the glass, then picked up hers. "I told you, darling. I'm not ready for it to be over just yet. I'm having too much fun being your mistress. And I'm *certainly* not giving way for that little rabbit that just ran off with her tail between her legs. She doesn't deserve you." She placed her hand on his chest.
"I never said a word to you about Laura," Harry told her tossing her hand away. "How did you find out about her?"
"Oh, I can't recall- it *might* have been from Daniel."
"Daniel? When did you see him?"
"He was at Razzio's not long before you returned to London the last time. He told me all about her. He seemed quite impressed with her."
"Daniel needs to learn to keep his mouth shut," Harry ground out. "And *you* need to learn not to listen to him."
Felicia's red painted fingernails smoothed his jacket lapel. "What can I say? Your father's a very charming man. Of course, I prefer the younger version-"
Harry drew away from the woman and pulled out his checkbook, then pulled out a pen. "How much?" he asked, looking at her. Felicia refilled her glass. "How much is it going to cost me to get you out of my life for good? Hmm?"
Felicia laughed and finished her champagne. "More than you have, darling." Harry put the checkbook back into his pocket and turned toward the door. "Where are you going?"
"To find Laura and try to explain. When I get back- I want you out of here. Go to a hotel, go back to London- I don't care. Just don't be here." He slammed the door closed behind him as he left.
***
Since Fred had taken off to get some dinner, Laura flagged down the first taxi that passed and asked the driver to take her to Century City. She'd get her car and go home. At the moment, all she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and bury her head in the pillows.
She had recognized the voice. Felicia. So now she had a name to go with the picture in her mind. She seemed quite a bit older than Laura had imagined her to be. Well, it was a good thing she'd found out now that Harry had a girlfriend- no, wait. Men like Harry- like Lord Bryce-Davies, Earl of Bensonhurst, - didn't have girlfriends, did they? They had mistresses. Laura wiped a tear from her cheek, admonishing herself for crying. He wasn't worth it. He was a two timing, double dealing, snake in the grass, and the son of a con man.
He and the bleach blonde piranha had probably had a good laugh about the silly little American who thought she meant something to Harry, when all the while he couldn't wait to get back to his mistress in London.
She paid the driver, giving him a larger tip than she normally might, but she was on auto-pilot. When she pulled into the driveway of her house, she couldn't have recalled anything about the drive, just that she'd gotten there safely- heaven only knew how.
The house was dark when she entered, and she tossed her hat onto the hat rack, slipped her coat off and was about to lay it over the back of a chair when a light came on beside the sofa. "I was becoming worried," Harry said in a soft voice.
Laura fought back a scream, then realized that it was just Harry. He looked tired, and worried, she had to admit, then told herself she didn't care what he looked like.
"What are you doing here?"
"I couldn't let you go like that. I have to explain-"
"I don't think any explanations are necessary," she told him, keeping the chair between them. As long as her hands were gripping the chair, maybe her shaking legs wouldn't give way. "It was pretty self-explanatory, if you ask me."
"You saw what that-" he stopped, reining in his temper. "What Felicia wanted you to see."
"Why should she think I even care?" Laura asked, lifting her chin.
"Laura, I swear to you, I never mentioned you to her. I spent a total of one hour alone in her company while I was in London-"
"One hour? And when was that?"
Harry thought back. "Uh, Monday evening- when I arrived in London. She wasn't at the flat when I arrived, so I took a shower, intending to have dinner with Daniel. When I got out, she was there."
"Monday evening," Laura repeated. "Around- 8 or so?"
"Something like that, I suppose. Yes. Daniel and I were to meet at 9 a Razzio's. Why?"
"I did try to call you that day," she confessed.
"You did? When? I don't remember-"
"That's because Felicia answered the phone," Laura explained.
"Ah. She didn't tell me that anyone had called." He gave her a wary look. "What did she say?"
"Oh, that you were too busy to be bothered at the moment, then it sounded like she turned to tell someone else that the champagne was on ice in celebration of your return home. I hung up after that."
Harry rose from the sofa and took a step toward her. "Oh, God, Laura, I didn't know-"
She stepped back from the chair- her arm out. "Don't. Please. I know it's silly of me, but- I just never even considered that you might have a- someone waiting for you back in London. You moved here- never said a word-"
"Because I broke it off with her," Harry insisted. "She *was* my mistress," he told her baldly. "*Was* being the operative word."
"Apparently you've ended it before," Laura pointed out, and Harry took a deep breath.
"My relationship with Felicia is- difficult to explain- but I'd like to try, if you'll give me the chance."
"How can I trust you?" Laura asked him. "I have no idea if what you're telling me is the truth or not!"
"Laura, when I came to Los Angeles and met you, I had already decided to break off my relationship with Felicia. When I returned to London after the showing, Felicia wasn't there. She was off- God knows where, on one of her jaunts around the Continent, I suppose. I left a message with my solicitor, telling her-"
"Your solicitor? You didn't even break it off with her in person?"
"I know, it sounds cold, Laura, but- The last time I tried to break that woman's hold on me, I thought it would be best to be done in a public setting- that she wouldn't create a scene. I was wrong. By the time she was finished, she had everyone's sympathy in the restaurant, and I had no option but to recant my words and continue as before. My solicitor had the funds that I settled on her, and I offered her the use of the flat until she found somewhere else. I thought it was handled- that she had cleared out when he'd talked to her."
"But she hadn't?"
"No. The woman's got claws like a bloody panther." Harry sat down again, running a hand through his dark hair.
Seeing him sitting there, looking so distraught, Laura's heart began to soften a bit. She came over to sit on the other end of the sofa. "Surely there's some way you can get her to leave you alone- if you really want her to, that is."
Harry looked up at her. "Of course I want to. It was a mistake from the beginning."
"How did you meet her?"
He laughed softly. "You won't believe it."
"Try me."
"Daniel introduced us."
"Daniel? Daniel Chalmers? Your *father*?"
"One and the same," he confirmed. "She- helped him on occasion."
"Did you know that before-?"
"No. I had no idea. It was during one of the times that Daniel seemed to be playing by all the rules, trying to keep to the straight and narrow. He invited her to a dinner party to 'even the numbers' as he put it. Said she was just someone he knew. By the time I found out- she had her claws into me and refused to let go. When I got out of the shower last week and found her there, she acted as if she'd never spoken to Harrigan- the solicitor," he explained. "I told her that I'd find her another flat, settle whatever money on her that she wanted - if she'd just leave me alone. I thought she'd agreed. That's what took up the last part of the week, getting her settled into that flat in Kensington. I never expected her to follow me here." He turned to take her hand in his. "Laura, I swear to you, I never told her anything about you. I didn't want you involved."
"Then how did she find out?" Laura asked, leaving her hand in his.
"Daniel again. I don't know why he told her. But the he'd better had a damn good explanation the next time I see him."
The telephone's shrill ring caused Laura to jump. "I have to answer it," she said, pulling her hand free to pick up the phone. "Hello?"
"Miss Holt?"
"Yes, this is Laura Holt," she confirmed, trying to place the man's voice.
"Elliot Markham here, Miss Holt. I got your number from the answering service. I think I'm going to need your and Steele's help after all . . ."
Across town in his motel room, Elliot Markham turned to look at the bed, where his female visitor from earlier in the day lay sprawled, a bullet hole in her chest, quite dead . . .
To Be Continued ---