House of Steele
Part Four
It was almost three the next morning when Laura heard him come into the bedroom. She couldn't help but hear him. He hit the corner of the dresser trying to undress in the dark room. "Damn!" he muttered softly. "Stupid place for a dresser," he added, sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes.
"You didn't think so when we moved in," Laura pointed out.
He paused, turning to look at her. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"What makes you think I was asleep?" she asked. "What happened? Is Robert all right?"
"He posted bail and was released on his own recognizance two hours ago," Remington assured her. "I drove him home, left him in Miss Craig's capable hands."
"Is he going to let Jessica help him?"
"He still insists he did it, Laura - but he's agreed not to fight whatever Jessica might do to help."
"I suppose that's something. Why won't he just admit that he's innocent? He doesn't seem the type to just - give up like this."
"I know," Remington agreed, continuing to remove his clothes. "He's- " Remington hesitated. "You said earlier that he reminds you of me-"
"Yes?"
"He puts me in mind of Daniel, somehow. That same- iron will, charm- You're right. A man like Robert Brandon DOESN'T give up."
"I'll go over there tomorrow and talk to him again."
"Don't over do," he cautioned.
"I won't," she promised. "Besides, what could possibly happen to me out there?"
"There's a murderer loose out there, as you put it, Laura. Why don't I postpone the meeting with Estelle," he began.
"No. You've already done that twice because of a case. You HAVE to go this time." She slid her arms around his neck, smiling up at him. "Come to bed. It's three o'clock and your appointment is for ten."
He lowered his lips to hers. "Excellent idea, Mrs. Steele."

Pamela found herself unable to sleep, and decided to heat some milk. On the way to the kitchen, she noticed a light in the study and went to investigate. She approached the open doorway hesitantly, a little afraid of what she would find. Robert was at his desk, a full glass of whiskey before him, an open bottle nearby, his gaze fixed on the photos on his desk.
"Mr. Brandon?"
"Come in, Pamela," he said. "I couldn't sleep, so I thought a glass of whiskey might -" he saw her disapproving frown. "Don't worry. I haven't had any. The days are long past when I could find forgetfulness in a glass of whiskey. Have you seen Harley?"
Pamela was surprised by his question. "No. Mrs. Steele asked me to find him earlier, to let him know- what happened, but- well he's nowhere to be found, Mr. Brandon. Mrs. Hobbs said he didn't eat the supper she left in his rooms."
Robert stared at the glass. "He'll turn up. And when he does, I want to see him. I've decided that he should leave now."
"You're going to send him over to Mr. Bennett's?" she asked.
"Tom 's willing to take him on as a helper," Robert said. "Lily asked him to take Harley when the time came." Tom Bennett owned a landscaping business and a nursery not far from the Brandon estate. "Harley likes Tom well enough-"
"He won't understand, Mr. Brandon. Harley thought of Miss Lily- of you BOTH almost like his own parents. To make him leave now-"
"He needs to get on with his life, Pamela. So do you. Once- everything is resolved, the Steeles will take possession of the house-"
"But-"
"I've made my decision on this, child. You'd better go back to bed."
Pamela heard his tone of voice, knew that arguing would get her precisely nowhere. Perhaps he'd listen to Mr. or Mrs. Steele tomorrow. "Very well. Good night."
His gaze returned to the glass of whiskey and the photographs. "Good night."

At dawn, Pamela found herself in the garden, unable to sleep in even when she had no patient to attend to. There was a movement in the gazebo, and she stopped. "Harley? Harley, is that you?" He appeared slowly, head down, his gaze fixed on the mud stained boots he wore. "Where have you been? We've been worried sick."
"I-I n-needed t-to be a-alone," he stammered.
"Mr. Robert wants to see you in the study."
"I-I g-g-got w-w-work-"
"It will wait, Harley," she said gently, turning him toward the study. "He's waiting."


Robert was on the telephone when he noticed the young man hovering in the doorway. "Just a moment, Tom," he said to the man on the other end of the line. "Come in, Harley. Sit down. We have to talk." Harley sat down carefully, a frightened look on his face. "Yes, Tom." His dark eyes flickered to Harley and back. "He'll be ready. And- thank you. Good bye." He hung up the telephone, folded his hands on the desk and looked at the boy again.
"Y-You w-want to t-t-talk t-to m-me?"
"Yes, Harley. About your future."


Remington rolled over, intending to pull Laura to him, but he couldn't find her. He DID manage to find the alarm clock, and turned off the buzzer. He showered and dressed quickly, expecting to find his wife in the dining room having breakfast. But the only sign of her was a half full cup of coffee and a note next to it.
"I've gone to see Robert. Good luck with Estelle Becker. See you later, Love, Laura."

As she steered the MG down the drive, Laura saw Harley Grange get into a pickup truck and watched as the driver turned the vehicle to wait until she was clear of the narrow lane before leaving. Pamela was on the steps, her eyes on the truck. "Mrs. Steele. Good morning."
"Who was Harley with just now?" she asked.
"A local landscaper, Tom Bennett," she said. "Mr. Brandon got Harley a job with him."
"A job? Rather sudden, wasn't it?"
"I think it had been planned for some time," Pamela told her.
"He's been with the Brandons for some time, hasn't he?"
"All of his life. His grandparents were the gardener and housekeeper here for almost as long as Mr. and Mrs. Brandon owned the house. When they died ten years ago, the Brandons kept him on."
Laura filed the information away. "How is Mr. Brandon this morning?"
"Sleeping, finally. He was up most of the night, just sitting in the study, staring at a glass of whiskey."
"I'll let him rest, then. Do you know where Mrs. Hobbs might be?"
"She's probably in the kitchen."

"Good morning, Mildred."
"Chief. Where's Mrs. Steele?"
"Visiting a friend," he told her. "I need you to work some of your magic on that computer, Mildred."
"What do you need?" she asked, picking up a pen.
"Muriel Hobbs, Pamela Craig, and Harley Grange. I need you to find out anything you can about them."
Mildred wrote the names down, then frowned. "Does this concern a case? I don't recall-"
"How's Brandon, Steele?" Tony asked, coming from his office.
"As well as can be expected when I left him at two this morning. Jessica didn't tell you about it?"
"I haven't seen Jess since Laura and I left the police station last night."
"Police station?" Mildred queried, totally confused. "What's going on around here?"
Remington looked at his pocket watch. "Antony can explain everything, Mildred. Then, you'll have to start the next step in the Malcom case, Antony. I have a appointment with Estelle Becker." He saw the expression on Tony's face and chose not to mention it. "I'll expect some results on those names when I return, Mildred," he said.
Tony turned to smile at Mildred. "Let's see. You know that house Laura found yesterday? It all started then . . ." he began.


Mrs. Hobbs was sitting at the small kitchen table, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "Mrs. Hobbs?"
The woman jumped. "Oh, my." She smiled. "Mrs. Steele. You startled me."
"I'm sorry. I was hoping to get a cup of coffee-" she indicated the half-full pot on the counter. "May I-"
The woman started to rise. "I'll get-"
"No, don't get up. I can help myself." She took a mug from a hook and filled it. "Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all," the housekeeper said, her face brightening somewhat. "The missus used to sit with me over coffee. 'Girl talk' she called it."
"She must've been a very special lady."
"Oh, she was. A REAL lady. Always interested. Not like some I've worked for. There wasn't anything I wouldn't have done for her." She realized what she said. "Except for that, of course," she hurried to say.
"Everyone seemed to feel that way about Miss Lily," Laura observed.
Mrs. Hobbs nodded. "Especially poor Harley. He must be so confused and upset, losing her, then being sent away so quickly."

Estelle Becker looked over the papers she has asked Remington to sign. "Everything would appear to be in order, Mr. Steele."
"Glad to hear it. How much longer will be before your superiors are satisfied that Laura and I are truly married?"
She sighed apologetically. "At least another year, I'm afraid. Norman Keyes made such a fuss-and then with his death in Mexico- They just want to be sure."
Remington nodded. He had heard all of this before. "Of course."
"If it were up to me, I'd close the case today, Mr. Steele," she assured him.
"Thank you. It's a comfort to now that you're on our side. Unlike Gladys Lynch."
"Don't be too hard on Gladys, Mr. Steele. She was only doing what she was told to do." Estelle considered her next words carefully. "There MAY be a couple of things that you and Mrs. Steele could do to- speed things along-"
Remington sat forward. "Such as?"
"I really shouldn't -"
"Miss Becker," Remington said earnestly, "I'll do whatever it takes to prove my sincerity and my commitment to my marriage."
"Well, have you and Mrs. Steele thought about starting a family? I know. It's not the best of reasons, but-"
Remington smiled. "It's not publicly known, but Laura IS expecting, Miss Becker."
Estelle's eyes widened. "She is?"
"Only the family and those at the agency know. And they've been sworn to secrecy for another month, at least."
"But why?"
"Laura's worried that our clients might go elsewhere if they knew the operative working on their case was pregnant. Plus, she's a bit- superstitious and doesn't want to let the news further until she's at least three months."
"I think I understand."
"What else could we do?"
"You could- be married again." She saw his doubt. "This time with no questions about who performs the ceremony, or licenses. A larger, more public wedding, in a church, perhaps-"
Remington was thoughtful. Laura been through two ceremonies already. Dare he suggest a third? Perhaps, he reasoned, with the right setting, the proper mood- "I'll discuss it with Laura."
"That's it, then. Keep in touch."
He smiled. "Don't I always?"

To be Continued----

|| Back ||  Home || Casebook || E-Mail || Next ||