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Jewel of Steele
Part Twelve
by Nancy Eddy
A Remington Steele Round Robin
copyright 1998 by the Remington Steele Chatboard

DISCLAIMER: This story is purely a work of fiction and is in no way associated with REMINGTON STEELE, MTM, the actors...yaddah, yaddah, yaddah...we all know the drill. This is purely a bit of fun for the latenight RS Chatboard crowd.

Remington rose to his feet with Laura still held securely in his arms. She had long since fallen into an exhausted sleep, and as he laid her gently on the bed, he felt his anger at Carlton Holt begin to grow. Smoothing Laura's hair from her face, he lay down beside her, pulling her close.

He lay there, unable to sleep, his mind too filled with the events of the evening. Things weren't adding up. In his past, he had run across most of the better thieves at one time or another. And the Hand only recruited the best in that line of work. He had never, ever, heard of or seen Carlton Holt.

Sighing, Remington decided that sleep was going to be impossible, and he slowly slid from the bed, leaving Laura sleeping. He needed to call and make the reservations to return home. When he'd mentioned it to Laura, she had simply nodded, realizing as he had that there was no longer any reason for them to stay in Ireland. He hadn't mentioned that he believed the faster they left, the better... before Felicia could convince her superiors that his and Laura's involvment in this case warranted their deaths. He was certain that Carlton would try his best to keep them out of it, but Felicia had an axe to grind, and wasn't above petty jealousy.

Glancing at the clock beside the bed, he quickly converted the time and realized that Mildred would still be in the office. After a quick glance at Laura to reassure himself that she was still sleeping, Remington left the room, closing the door softly behind him. He went downstairs to the library and dialed the number.

"Remington Steele Investigations," Mildred answered cheerily.

"Mildred. I wasn't certain that you would still be there."

"Mr. Steele?" In his mind, he could see her glancing at her watch. "It's the middle of the night there. Is something wrong?"

"In a matter of speaking. Laura's fine," he quickly assured her, "but I need you to do some digging for me."

Again he had a mental picture of Mildred, fingers at the ready over her computer keyboard. "What's the name?"

"I need a full investigation on Carlton Holt."

"Mrs. Steele's father? We did one-"

"Not a thorough one," he reminded her."I need you to check with Interpol and any other European crime fighting organizations."

"Will do. Anything else?"

"Laura and I should be home tomorrow evening. I'll let you know what time to expect the flight."

"You sound tired, Chief. Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Laura's had a bit of shock, but I'm hoping she'll bounce back once she's in familiar surroundings. I'll call you tomorrow."

He hung up with Mildred and then make reservations for their flight back to LA. The first flight was at 9 a.m. and there were two seats available in first class. As soon as he finalized the reservations, he returned to the room.

As he closed the door, he heard Laura crying softly as she called his name.

He crossed the room to her and pulled her into his arms again. "Shh, love. I'm here.It's all right."

She snuggled closer to him and returned to sleep. Remington kissed the top of her head. If it was the last thing he did, he would find out the truth about what had happened last evening. Laura was hurting and Remington felt that hurt all the way to his own heart.

********

In a suite in one of Dublin's better hotels, Carlton Holt was packing his suitcase when he heard the door open and close.

"Carlton?"

He left the bedroom, closing the door behind him as he did so. "What the hell are you doing here, Felicia? I thought we agreed to meet in Paris."

She shook her head. "I'm not certain I trust you at the moment, Carlton. Why did you let them go? Don't you realize that they can betray us to the Hand?"

"How can they do that, Felicia?"he asked."They don't have any contacts with the Hand except through you."

"You forget, darling, that Michael still knows people in the life. He can make trouble for us."

Carlton turned to look at her, shaking his head. "You really would have killed them, wouldn't you? Both him and Laura."

"They can hurt us."

"Laura's my daughter, Felicia. I've done enough to hurt her. I won't be party to anymore of that. As for your old friend, I don't think he'll pursue this. That would only cause Laura more hurt. And he doesn't want that either."

"And what will you do if you're wrong? If they notify the Hand that we've double-crossed them and sold the necklace for ourselves? What then?"

"They won't, Felicia. Now get out of here."

"No. Not until we settle this. It would be easy to arrange, Carlton. A bomb set to go off in that old castle. Or even their car..."

"NO!" he yelled. "Leave them alone, Felicia. If you do anything to them, I'll kill you with my bare hands."

Felicia paled as she saw the determination in his eyes."I've half a mind to go to the Hand myself; tell them you've got the necklace and that..."

"...that you were in on the entire plan, my dear? I don't think they would be very appreciative of your honesty. Once we've sold the necklace in Paris, we'll be able to retire, Felicia. You can go your way and I'll go mine. But we can't travel to Paris together. It would arouse too many suspicions."

"No one knows we're together except Michael and Lisa -"

"Laura," Carlton corrected her. "What about Eric Simpson?"

Felicia's smile sent a chill into Carlton's bones. "I wouldn't worry about him. He won't be telling anyone anything."

"What did you do, Felicia?"

"He came to the warehouse to tell me that the necklace had been stolen from his safe; that he had an idea who had done it, but needed some time to recover it. When I told him that we already had it, he wanted his payment. I refused; he threatened to go to the Hand. I really had no choice in the matter, darling."

Carlton closed his eyes. Raymond, Simpson. How many more would have to pay the price in this game?

"I'll meet you in Paris, as we agreed, Felicia. Tomorrow evening at six."

She watched him carefully. "If you're not there, Carlton, then you've seen dear little Lisa for the last time," she warned, touching his cheek with a perfectly manicured fingernail before leaving the suite.

Carlton stood there for a long moment before picking up the telephone and dialing a telephone number. "I need to make a reservation for Los Angeles."

As the woman asked for his name, he opened the briefcase before him and pulled out several passports. Going through them, he found one he liked. "Nathan Drew. No, tourist will be fine."

He supplied the required information, then hung up the telephone before picking it up to dial again. "There's been a change in plans. I'm going to LA."

When the person on the other end of the line began to argue, Carlton's face became a detemined mask. "Look, I'm sorry if it's not what was planned, but I'm going. You just handle things, okay? I'll contact you when I get there."

He hung up the telephone again and went into the bedroom to resume his packing.

**********

As they got into the limo at LAX, Remington cast an anxious glance at his wife. She had barely spoken two words all day and had slept during most of the flight home. Now she reminded him of a lost little girl as she huddled against the leather seat.

"Where to, Mr. Steele?" Fred asked.

"Home, Fred," Remington said, then reached over to pull Laura against him. "We'll be home soon, Laura. And then we can put all of this behind us."

She shook her head. "Things won't ever be the same again," she said quietly. "They can't be. I was ready to forgive him," she said quietly. "Ready to tell him I didn't care why he'd left. Only to find out that he- he-"

"I know, Love. I know," he said softly, rocking her gently. "We'll go to the office tomorrow and once you've immersed yourself in another case, you'll be your old self again." I HOPE, he thought to himself.

"I think I'll let you go to the office," she told him. "I need a few days to rest after the trip. Maybe I'll call Jennifer and see if she can have lunch -"

Remington KNEW he was in trouble. His workaholic Laura, suggesting that she take a few days off from work?

"If you're certain-"

"You and Mildred should be able to handle anything that comes up," she told him dully as Fred brought the car to a halt before their apartment building.

Remington sent Laura to take a long, hot bath while he prepared something light for dinner. He was on his way to tell her it was ready when he noticed that the light on the answering machine was blinking.

Pressing the button, he heard Mildred's voice. "Got the info you wanted, Mr. Steele. Call me at home. Tell Mrs. Steele I said welcome home.'"

Turning off the ringer on the telephone, Remington went into the bedroom, only to find Laura sound asleep on their bed. If she didn't snap out of it soon, he was going to suggest that she see a psychiatrist. He was worried about her.

The infernal machine was blinking again as he passed through the living room, and frowning, Remington turned the volume up. He was certain he had cleared the message from Mildred.

"Mr. Steele, it's Carlton Holt. I have to see you right away. Meet me at your office. It concerns your and Laura's lives."

Remington's jaw tightened. He'd followed them back to Los Angeles. Why? To finish what he hadn't been able to in Ireland? And where was Felicia? He didn't want to leave Laura alone, not without knowing the answer to that last question. So he picked up the telephone and dialed Mildred's number.

"Mr. Steele, I'm glad you called. Did you get my message?"

"Yes, Mildred. What did you find out?"

After listening to her, he said, "Could you come over here and stay with Laura while I go out for awhile, Mildred?"

"Stay with- What's going on, Chief?"

"I'll explain when you get here, Mildred."

"I'm on my way."

********

Remington put his key to the glass doors that led into the agency's waiting area, then froze as the door moved. Carlton was already there. At least, he hoped it was Carlton. Going inside he relocked the door, then cautiously approached the open door to his own office.

In the light of the city coming through the window, he could see Carlton Holt's outline.

"Come in, Mr. Steele."

Remington stood on the other side of the desk."Would you care to give me one good reason why I shouldn't beat you to a pulp for the pain you've caused Laura, Mr. Holt?"

Carlton turned around. "Because I'm still Laura's father. And whether you believe it or not, I love her."

"You have one hell of a way of showing it. Deserting her when she was sixteen years old, knowing that she thought the sun rose and set on you; then coming back only to do it to her again. I ought to..." Remington unconsciously curled his fingers into a fist.

"I know," Carlton sighed, sounding tired and old. "But there are circumstances, Mr. Steele, about which you - and she - know nothing. I didn't expect her to become so involved in this. I thought.. Hell, I don't know what I thought." He had come around the desk, and now sat heavily on the sofa, his head in his hands.

Remington crossed his arms. "It seems we've played this little scene before, Mr. Holt. I'm not impressed this time."

"You should be," Carlton said, looking up at the man who had married his daughter. "Because this is for real. I'm not part of the Hand. I'm an - for want of a better term -independant operative for Interpol's International Crime Unit. I was sent to retrieve the "Heart of the Ocean" before the Hand could get it. I convinced Philip Raymond and Eric Simpson that I could get them a better deal, but Simpson double-crossed us. He was going to sell the necklace, until I convinced his buyer to back out. I told them that I had another buyer in Paris -more money for everyone."

"And where did Felicia come into this?"

"She was sent by the Hand to contact Raymond, to bring the necklace to her superiors. When he told her he didn't have it and pointed her to me, she killed him."

"And Eric Simpson?" Remington asked as he pulled out the newspaper he had picked up downstairs. There, on the front page, was an article about the Dublin art dealer and museum curator who had been found dead, the victim of an apparent suicide.

"He threated to betray her to the Hand. I was supposed to meet her in Paris where we were going to sell the necklace - to my bosses. She wouldn't have known I was undercover."

"Does she now?"

"I don't know. I know when I don't turn up in Paris, she's going to come here."

"Laura."

Carlton nodded jerkily. "Yes. And you, I should think. She's terrified that you know too much about the Hand; that it isn't safe to let you live." He looked at his hands. "I have the necklace in a locker at the airport, Mr. Steele. I'm going to leave the key here with you." He offered it to Remington.

"Why?" Remington asked.

"It might be the only bargaining chip we have to keep all of us alive."

"But won't your superiors want the necklace returned?"

"As I said, it's a barganing chip. In my profession, Mr. Steele, I have to be willing to put my neck out, as it were. But I'll be damned if I'll put the neck of Laura and my grandchild out there as well. I'm going to ask my bosses for some protection for Laura, with the stipulation that they provide it or they won't get the necklace back."

Remington moved to sit down across from his father- in-law. "I won't allow Laura to be hurt anymore, Carlton. She's been through enough."

"I know. And I'm sorry for it. If I could see her... explain things ..."

"I'll see what I can do," Remington said slowly. "Where are you staying?"

"With friends. I'll be in touch." He rose to his feet.

Nodding, Remington saw Carlton hold out his hand, and for moment, considered ignoring it. But at last he stood as well and grasped that hand.

"I'll let you out," Remington offered as he escorted his father-in-law to the door. Once he was alone, Remington made certain he had the key that Carlton had given him, then locked the doors and headed home to Laura.

How was he ever going to explain all of this to her? And how was she going to react? Remington felt as if he were watching a tennis match. It was almost dizzying.

As he steered the Auburn around a corner, something in the rear view mirror caught Remington's eye. He was being followed.

To be continued...

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