Remington escorted Mrs. Hughes out, assuring the woman that the Remington Steele Agency would do whatever necessary to find the man who had conned her out of a quarter of a million dollars. Returning to his office, he said, "Well, I *hope* we can help her, anyway, right, Laura?" When she didn't answer, he looked closer at her. She was sitting on the sofa, her head back, eyes closed. "Laura?" He moved to shake her gently.
Laura opened her eyes, sitting up quickly. "Sorry. Guess I didn't get enough sleep last night."
"Apparently. How do you think we should proceed with Mrs. Hughes' case?" Remington asked, watching her carefully.
"Well, we might use Mildred as bait to draw this guy out - set her up as a mark."
"Laura, we don't even know for sure who he is -"
"You could always use some of your old contacts, see if anyone's heard about someone running this particular scam."
"I could, I suppose, but most of my old contacts know that I'm Remington Steele now, not Harry or whoever. They're not as free with the information as they once were."
"Are you saying that someone might be immune to your charm, Mr. Steele?" Laura asked, trying to hide a yawn.
"Not at all. Tell you what, I'll make a deal with you. I want you to lay down right there and get a few minutes sleep before you have to meet Daniel. I'll go fill Mildred in on the case, and then use your office to make those calls."
For once, Laura was too tired to argue with him. After having staked out Neil Gregory for the last three nights, and then not getting *any* sleep last night, she needed a little nap. "Sounds good to me, Mr. Steele," she said, laying down.
Remington watched her for a moment, then went and took his overcoat from the rack and placed it over her, then bent to drop a kiss on her lips. "Pleasant dreams, Laura."
"Mmmm." She heard the door close and smiled, drifting between sleep and wakefulness, thinking about how sweet her Mr. Steele could be at times. She wondered what he was going to do when he found out about Daniel's illness- Laura's eyes opened wide, and she sat up.
The papers in her desk. All her notes about Daniel. If Mr. Steele opened that drawer to find something to write on - The overcoat dropped to the floor as she ran to her office door. Opening it silently, she glanced inside, relieved that Remington was still in the outer office with Mildred. She grabbed an empty file folder and opened her desk drawer, then stuffed the notes inside, burying it beneath several other items. Grabbing a notepad and pen, she was putting them on the desk when the pen fell to the floor. Laura bent to retrieve it- and heard the door open. Peeking up over the desk, she tried to smile.
"Laura? What are you doing? I thought you were going to sleep?"
"I - My desk was a- a mess- and I didn't want you to -"
He smiled, taking her arm to lead her back to his office. "Didn't want to spoil your image as a neatness freak?" he suggested.
"Something like that. There's a note pad and pen -"
"I saw them," he told her, picking up the overcoat on their way back to the sofa. "Now get some rest."
"You're being awfully sweet, Mr. Steele," she murmured as she lay down again.
"Maybe I'm simply becoming the Remington Steele you envisioned all those years ago," he suggested. carefully tucking the coat in around her. "Now sleep."
"I don't want to be late for lunch with Daniel," she insisted.
"I'll make sure you're awake in plenty of time," he assured her, dropping another kiss onto her lips. When Laura's arms slid around his shoulders, lengthening the kiss, Remington was caught off guard. "Why do you always do things like that when I can't take advantage, Miss Holt?" he asked.
"You could always lock the door, Mr. Steele," she suggested, knowing he was just a little shocked by the idea - and tempted.
He looked at her for a long moment, then slowly drew back until he was holding her hands. "I'm sorry, Laura. When you and I finally achieve that moment, I want it to be more than a quick tumble on my office sofa." He brought her hands to his lips, then tucked her in once more. "I'm going to make those telephone calls."
She was asleep before he reached her office door.
**********
He insisted that Fred drop him off at City Hall, then take her on to meet Daniel, not wanting her to drive with so little sleep. She had insisted that she felt fine after her little nap, but Remington had refused to budge on the issue. "What did you find out from your contacts?" she asked.
"A bit. I have a lead, but the man we're looking for isn't someone I ever met as far as I can tell. He's scammed a few other elderly matrons, leaving them to explain to their husbands or sons why their accounts were short, but evidently none of them have been willing to come forward."
"Same m.o. every time?" Laura questioned. "Meets and charms the woman into 'investing' in a Caribbean resort complex at which she and her husband will always be welcome, a sure fire bet that will increase her quarter million investment in a matter of weeks and make her husband or son finally realize that she's not as helpless as they seem to think she is?"
Remington nodded. "And then he walks away with the money, leaving the woman to explain what happened."
"What did Mrs. Hughes say he looked like? Mid to late thirties -"
"More like early forties, according to my sources," Remington corrected, "Red hair, green eyes, well dressed, charming -"
"In other words, a typical con man," Laura said. "Except for the hair and eyes, that description would fit you *or* Daniel."
"Speaking of Daniel, Laura," Remington asked, "What's going on with you two?"
Laura smiled. "*Now* who's being suspicious, Mr. Steele?" She shrugged. "I've just decided that I should get to know Daniel a little better, that's all. He's not so bad, really, and he's rather charming-"
"Mmmm. It's that charm of his that worries me."
The smile widened. "Maybe it should," she teased as the limo came to a halt.
Remington turned to look at her. "Laura- You're not -" The door was opened by the ever efficient Fred.
"You're going to be late," Laura reminded him. "I'll see you later."
"When? We have to devise a plan -"
"Later. Enjoy your luncheon."
"Rubber chicken," he muttered.
"Just keep a supply of napkins handy," she suggested, practically pushing him out of the car. She motioned him toward the building as Fred closed the door and came back around to get behind the steering wheel. "The Bonaventure, Fred."
"Yes, Miss Holt."
Daniel opened the door of his suite, smiling. "Laura. Come in."
"I'm sorry I'm late," she apologized. "Mr. Steele insisted that we both take the limo, and we had to drop him off-"
"You're here now, and that's all that matters," Daniel assured her, taking her coat. He indicated the trolley beside the table. "Lunch is ready - " he coughed, and Laura reached out to touch his sleeve. Shaking his head, Daniel managed. "Excuse me." He vanished into the bedroom, leaving Laura to inspect the food he'd ordered. Veal Marsala, a salad, - wine- "Forgive me. Had to take some medicine," Daniel explained, returning. "What are you smiling about?"
"Nothing. I've just figured out where Mr. Steele gets his taste in food from."
Daniel held her chair, then sat across from her. "I hope you don't mind eating here. I thought we could talk more freely than we could in the dining room. Never know when someone might be listening."
"You sound as if you don't trust Mr. Steele, Daniel."
"I would trust that young man with my life if necessary. But when it comes to you-" He opened the wine and poured two glasses.
Laura took hers, smiling. "He's jealous of you."
"Of me?" Daniel questioned, pausing as he sat down.
"He's afraid that I might fall for your charm -"
"One of Harry's failings, I fear, his belief that he's never good enough - certainly not good enough for you."
"That's - ridiculous," she said.
"Not to him." He lifted his glass. "To Harry."
"To Harry," Laura echoed, touching her glass to his. Picking up her fork, Laura asked, "How long have you been ill, Daniel?"
"It's been coming on for years, my dear. I did a stint working in coal mines as a lad - between that and the life I've lived, it's a wonder my sins haven't come back to haunt me before now. But I've only been under a doctor's care for the last four years - "
"Around the time we first met," she realized.
"It was a significant part of my decision to retire at the time."
"Then why didn't you?"
"Boredom, I suppose. I found that sitting around, waiting to die was worse than actually dying. So I decided to put my hand back in - "
"And now you've gone straight?" Laura asked.
"More or less. As long as the Earl needs my services, I'll play everything above board - or until-"
Laura looked at him. "How long -"
"No one can predict these things, my dear. It could be a year, or it could be a few months - even less." He refilled his wine glass, and seeing Laura's frown, he shook his head. "Giving up the pleasures in my life would be as bad as sitting waiting, Laura. I can't do either."
"When are you going to tell Mr. Steele?"
"I don't know that I will."
"But-"
"Laura, consider this for a moment. If I tell Harry that I'm ill, what do you think his first thought will be?"
"To take care of you- to see that you're comfortable-"
"Even if that means going back to England and leaving you?"
"I'd understand - you're very important to him, Daniel -"
"Yes. I'm the man who took him off the streets, gave him a place to live, some claim to sophistication - But you- you're the woman who gave him so much more than I ever could. You gave him a name- a life. Love."
Laura blushed. "You're selling yourself short, Daniel. Without your involvement in his life, Mr. Steele would never have made it far enough to become Remington Steele."
Daniel shook his head. "Listen to yourself."
"What?"
"How long have you known Harry, Laura?"
"Four years," she answered, uncertain where he was going.
"Four years. And you still invariably call him 'Mr. Steele'. Why?"
She took a drink of her wine, then rose to pace across the room. "I don't know. I don't feel comfortable calling him Remington- I suppose if I didn't know that the name was from a typewriter, it would be different-"
"Then pick another name for him. To call him when you're away from the office, when you're alone."
Laura laughed softly, recalling a similar conversation between herself and Mr. Steele. Seeing Daniel's curious glance, she said, "He suggested the same thing once. Told me to pick a name. That he'd probably used it."
"He probably had," Daniel agreed, smiling as well. "And did you?"
"I called him-" she laughed again. "I said he looked like a 'Harry'. He never blinked, never batted an eye -"
"He told me about that. Said that he hadn't realized what you'd said until later. He was upset over a friend's death or he might have reacted to your suggestion. Why didn't you continue to use it?"
"When he didn't react, I thought it probably wasn't his name, so I -"
"Reverted back to the formality of 'Mr. Steele'," Daniel guessed.
She nodded. "I guess I decided that if I couldn't call him by his 'real' name, I'd just keep on the way we were."
"And what if he doesn't know his real name?"
"He doesn't," Laura said quietly. "He's never known for sure what his name was, he's had so many -" She sighed. "I don't want to know his name for me anymore, I just wish I could find out what it is for *his* sake." Laura sat down again.
"Then- his real name's not important to you?"
"Only to give him an identity of his own, something other than the one I gave him." She looked up at him as he rose from the table. "Daniel?" He didn't speak, simply moved into the bedroom. She heard the dresser drawer open, then close, then the sound of tinkling music. Moments later, he placed the watch on the table near her hand. "You found this last night, didn't you?"
Laura nodded, touching the metal pocket watch. "Yes."
"And I'm sure you wondered what I was doing with it."
"The question did occur to me, yes. The Earl of Claridge bought it for his son, and left it with a friend. The watch was stolen - and given to Mr. Steele with a note that his father had wanted him to have it." Laura's eyes were on Daniel now. "Why *do* you have it, Daniel?"
"Perhaps I stole it- again," he suggested, watching her carefully. "Or perhaps the Earl gave it to me to give my son, since he's given up on finding his."
"The man I call Remington Steele- who you call Harry- is *your* son, isn't he?"
"Yes," Daniel admitted, his voice suddenly hoarse. "He is."
To Be Continued---
