Matched Steele

Part Twelve

As she carried a fresh cup of tea into Mr. Steele's office, Mildred paused. Daniel was at the window, hands in his pockets, his back toward the room, and Mildred was reminded of Mr. Steele. "Here you go," she said, holding out one of the mugs. Daniel accepted it in silence, his gaze still focused on the street below. "Nice view, isn't it?" Mildred asked. "If could count the times that I've walked into this office and found Mr. Steele standing right where you are now, trying to figure out the answer to a problem -"

Daniel sipped the tea. "Well, there's apparently one problem that he won't have to puzzle over," he said. When Mildred frowned, he said, "His relationship with Laura."

Mildred nodded, sitting in Mr. Steele's chair. "You noticed that rock on her finger too, I guess."

"How could I miss it?" Daniel asked. "That rock, as you call it, is at least four carats, perfect cut- it must have set Harry back quite a bit."

"Oh, that's small change to Mr. Steele," Mildred assured him, then turned her attention to her tea, hoping Daniel wouldn't question her further.

"What do you mean?"

Mildred winced. "Look, Mr. Steele doesn't want Miss Holt to know- well, - Can I trust you, Daniel?" At his slightly hurt look, Mildred shrugged. "Okay. Now, the only reason that I know about this is that I handle the checking and savings accounts for Mr. Steele and the Agency -"

"Very capably, I'm sure," Daniel complimented her.

"Yeah, well, I try. Anyway, Miss Holt still thinks that he's living off the Agency."

"But he's not?"

"Oh, he draws a salary - and the Agency pays for the condo and his clothes - but, well- Mr. Steele's a real wiz when it comes to spotting a good investment," she confided.

"Investment?" Daniel questioned. "As in stocks? Real estate?"

"Almost anything," Mildred confirmed. "Of course, when I first got here, he was borrowing Agency funds to make the initial investments. I didn't think much about it at the time, since I thought it really was his Agency." She saw Daniel frown, and quickly added, "He's paid it back out of what he made. Every dime. And now, he doesn't use Agency funds at all."

"He doesn't?"

She shook her head. "He doesn't need to. His private checking account alone is over six figures -"

Daniel sat down on the window ledge, a bit stunned. At last he laughed softly, smiling for the first time that day. Mildred looked at him. "When I think of all the times that I attempted to impress on Harry the need to squirrel a bit away for an emergency-"

"Apparently he learned the lesson," Mildred pointed out.

Daniel nodded. "And- Laura doesn't know about any of this?"

"Not a thing, as far as I know. I mean, he might have come clean about it - but he hasn't mentioned it to me."

"I wonder where she's gotten off to?" he asked.

"She should be back soon," Mildred assured him. "She just wanted to make sure Mrs. Hughes got that money safely to her bank. Did you reach the Earl when you called him?"

**********

In the reception area, Laura stood on the other side of Remington's door, as stunned as Daniel had been. Was it true? she wondered. Had Remington really used Agency funds to amass a fortune for himself? Moving to the computer behind Mildred's desk, she typed in some information. The accounts Mildred had told Daniel about weren't listed with the regular accounts, but then, she hadn't expected that they would be. Searching the computer, she found a file she'd never seen that was password protected. After typing in several words with no success, she was about to give up.

"Try fandance," Remington suggested, peering over her shoulder. When Laura turned to look at him, she saw the worry on his face at her discovery of his little secret. "Go on," he said, moving to lean against the edge of the desk behind her. "Might as well, since you've got this far."

"Agency funds," Laura muttered, typing the word he'd given her. "You used Agency funds to-" The password worked.

"And every penny has been paid back, with interest," Remington assured her. "I admit that it wasn't precisely ethical,-"

"Ethical?" Laura repeated, looking at the computer screen readouts. "I should have known from the first - all those shady deals you set up. Like that horse -"

"Danny's Dessert," Remington recalled, nodding. "Made quite a bit off that one, when it was all said and done." He stayed quiet as Laura scanned the information.

At last she looked up at him again, her eyes wide. "You have done very well, haven't you?"

He shrugged. "Luck, really, mixed with a fair amount of talent."

"This-" she said, indicating the figures before her, "is more than luck, Remington. What other little secrets are you hiding from me?" All this time, she'd been afraid that he'd only been staying for the free ride, among other things. And now she knew differently. He didn't need the free ride anymore. He was his own man.

He pulled her to her feet and into his arms. "None. From now on, my life is an open book. All you have to do is ask, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"Anything?" Laura said.

"Anything," he reiterated, dropping a long kiss onto her lips to seal the promise. "I'll have Mildred show you my portfolio later, if you want. Right now, I need to talk to Daniel. Is he still here?"

"He's in your office with Mildred," Laura told him, turning toward the door.

Remington held her back. "Alone, Laura."

She searched his face. He had the look of a man who, for the first time in his life, knew who he was, and had made his peace with that life- and himself. "You're sure?"

"Yes. This is something that I have to do on my own. Could you get Mildred out of there? I'll go into your office and wait until he's alone."

"I think I can manage that," Laura told him, kissing him again, before watching him go into her office. "Mildred?" she called out, remembering at the last minute to turn off the computer. "Where are you?"

Mildred smiled at Daniel. "There she is."

"Sounds as if she needs you for something," Daniel said. "At least she's speaking to you. I don't think she's said a word to me since we left the hotel this morning."

"I think she feels responsible for what happened," Mildred told him as Laura called again. "Coming, Miss Holt!"

Daniel returned his attention to the view, the rapidly cooling mug of tea in his hand. He'd stay the rest of the day, and if Harry still refused to talk to him, he would return to London- no matter what Laura or anyone else said. He took out a handkerchief as a coughing spell overtook him. Once it was finished, he dug out his pill box, moving to the bar and pouring himself some tonic water to take the medicine with.

As he returned the silver pill box, his hand closed over the pocketwatch. He wasn't sure why he'd brought it with him. Laura had picked it up from the table in his suite, pressing it into his hand as they were leaving. He opened the case, telling himself it was to check the time.

"Did you really steal that the first time?" Remington asked.

Daniel turned toward the door connecting Laura's office to this one. "Harry." Moving his gaze to the watch, Daniel nodded. "Yes. I'd known Patrick O'Rourke for years - before he went to work at the pub in Whitechapel. He also knew Kevin Landers."

Harry's hands were in his pockets as he looked at the man across the room. "I'm sorry, Daniel. I just never- suspected -"

"You've nothing to apologize for, Harry. It was all my fault. Everything. Even your ending up on the streets of London, alone. I made a stupid, foolish mistake- and you were the one who paid the higher price." His eyes met Remington's, revealing for the first time the pain and anger he had felt. "But I want you to know that I did try to find you -"

Remington nodded, moving toward Daniel. Toward his- father. The two men embraced. "You did find me," he reminded Daniel. "And you were as much a father to me as I would allow anyone to be."

"We had some good times, didn't we?" Daniel asked as they turned toward the conference area.

"The best," Remington agreed. "How about a drink?" he suggested when Daniel had seated himself.

"Excellent idea, my boy."

Remington turned to the bar, pouring two glasses of whiskey before returning to sit across from him. He lifted his glass. "To - family."

"Family," Daniel agreed, touching his glass to Remington's.

Remington stared into his glass. "Daniel- what was she like?"

Daniel didn't have to ask who he meant. "She was the most exquisite woman I'd ever met- before or since." He looked at his son. "You have her eyes. And her smile."

"What happened?"

Now it was Daniel's turn to stare into the amber liquid. "I met her while trying to run a scam on her father - he was a well to do industrialist in Ireland- I saw a chance to get a few easy quid. I've always taught you to take every possibility into account when planning a job- that's because I didn't that time. I never counted on meeting Meghan."

"Meghan," Remington repeated, saying his mother's name for the first time that he could recall.

Daniel nodded, rising to pace the room. "Meghan was her widowed father's only child- the light of his life. I might have pulled the job off- if he hadn't discovered a note from me to Meghan. Because of it, he did some investigating and discovered that I wasn't -exactly the type of man that he wanted for his daughter's husband." He sat down again. "He ordered me to stay away from Meghan, to leave Ireland, or he'd have me arrested. I knew he was right, that I wasn't nearly good enough for her, so I made plans to leave. On the evening I was to sail for England, Meghan came to see me, suitcase in hand, insisting that she couldn't let me go." He finished his drink, then nodded as Remington picked it up to refill it. "I should have sent her home. But she was as stubborn as she was lovely - your Laura reminds me of her in that respect - and refused to go. So there was only one thing to do: we eloped to Scotland -"

"You- eloped?" Remington asked, uncertain he'd heard correctly. "I always thought- "

"No. Meghan and I were legally married. She called her father, to tell him where she was, that she was safe - and married, and he refused to talk to her. He told her that if I set foot back in Ireland, he would have me arrested."

"Sounds like a wonderful man," Remington said of his grandfather.

"He was hurt," Daniel reminded him. "His daughter had chosen someone totally unsuited as her husband over his objections. It was all quite understandable. Of course, at the time, I was inclined to agree with you. Meghan was hurt by her father's silence, but she tried to hide it. After we returned to England, I went to work in a boring, dead end job that I hated - but I told myself that it was for Meghan, for us. I hated seeing her go without the things she was used to- not that she ever complained, of course. That's when it started, I suppose. If I'd had more faith in myself, in the future, I might never have called an old friend to see if he had something on that I could make some real money at."

"He did?"

"A bank robbery. Should have gone off without a hitch - but for once, my luck failed, and I got caught. I was sentenced to two years for the crime. I told Meghan to go back to Ireland, to her father, and she did, on the condition that she not have anything more to do with me. But she wrote- every day, her letters filled with plans and dreams for when I was free. Those letters were the only thing that kept me going those first months in prison." His eyes were shadowed, dark as he recalled that time in his life. "Then, one day, her letter informed me that she was going to have a child. Our child. There was never a hint, never any word of her father's feelings on the matter, only more plans. I told myself that I had to get out, that I had a family to think about. Then one day, near the time she was supposed to deliver the child, the letters just - stopped coming." Remington could hear the pain in Daniel's voice as he spoke, the fear. "I did everything I could to find out what had happened, but being in prison my options were severely limited." His voice was ragged, dry. "The first thing I did when I was released was to go Ireland."

"What if her father had made good on his threat?"

"I had to find Meghan. To find out about our child. But her father informed me that Meghan was dead. That she had died within days of her son's birth- and that the child had been placed for adoption."

"Cold blooded bastard, wasn't he?"

"Yes. He was. I very nearly took his head off - but he called the police, and I got away. I searched as much as I could before the authorities forced me back to England. Called every agency, every orphanage - none of them would acknowledge having accepted the grandchild of Harrison O'Riley as a charge."

"Harrison?" Remington questioned.

"Meghan was certain that the child she was carrying was going to be a son- and she wrote me that she'd already chosen the name she wanted for him." Remington's attention was focused. "Daniel Harrison Chalmers."

"Harry," Remington realized. "That's why you chose that name."

"Yes. Well, I couldn't very well have called you Danny, now, could I? Would have aroused all kinds of suspicions in that fertile mind of yours."

Remington smiled. "Probably."

"I had friends in Ireland continue searching for you, and I even looked in England, thinking perhaps you had been sent there. But I had no luck, and, after a while, I very nearly gave up altogether. Without Meghan, without my son- I felt as if I had no reason to try any longer. So, I crawled through the pubs in Whitechapel, drowning myself in a bottle - hustling for whatever I could find to buy another one. Then, one day, Patrick O'Rourke told me about Kevin Landers simliar problem. And he showed me the watch." He took the item from his pocket again. "I stole it intending to pawn it - but when I opened it," he pushed the button. "When I heard that tune, I could almost hear Meghan's voice, telling me that I couldn't give up. That I had to keep trying, keep looking for our son." He blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. "I left Whitechapel that day - never went back. But everywhere I did go, I kept an eye out for anyone who might be my son. I never expected to find him in Brixton, or that he would introduce himself by picking my pocket," he said, his eyes now alight with laughter.

"How did you know?" Remington asked. "The chances that I was your son -"

"I told you. You have her eyes and smile. I was almost certain the moment I saw you that you had to be Meghan's son. Getting absolute proof came later. Do you remember when you cut your arm on that glass during one of our first jobs?"

"Yes," Remington confirmed, glancing at the hand in question. "I never went to a doctor -"

"It wasn't that bad. But I took one of the towels we used to wrap it to a friend of mine and asked him to run a check on the blood type against mine. It was a perfect match."

"And you still never said a word."

"Harry, do you remember the way you used to talk about your father? About what you'd like to do to him if you ever found him?" Daniel questioned.

Remington looked a bit uncomfortable. "I was a child, Daniel. Angry, hurt, believing myself abandoned."

"I couldn't take that risk. I had spent too many years trying to find my son, Harry. I wasn't about to risk losing him again by telling him that I was the father that he hated." He shook his head. "No, better that I remain your friend, help you as much as you would allow - " He looked once more at the watch. "And I believe this is yours."

Remington took the watch. "Daniel - I can't accept a stolen-"

"The Earl gave it to me, Harry. I told him about our similar situations- but not who my son was. Although, I think he's probably guessed. He no longer believes he'll find his son, so he gave it to me to give to mine."

"About the name, Daniel- I hope you don't mind if I continue to use the one Laura gave me-"

"Not at all, my boy. In fact - I've taken care of that little matter as well."

"How?"

"I had your birth certificate changed a couple of years ago."

"You what?"

**********

Laura looked once again at the closed door to Remington's office. "They've been in there for an awfully long time," she told Mildred.

"They've got a lot to talk about," Mildred reminded her. "And at least Mr. Steele's not yelling."

"I guess you're right," Laura agreed, moving to look at the telephone. "Have you gotten any calls back on houses?"

"A couple of agents called, but they can't show anything until tomorrow. I guess you'll be looking for a place big enough for the three of you?"

Laura smiled, finally holding up her hand. "Guess this was pretty hard to miss, wasn't it?"

Mildred's eyes were filled with tears of joy. "I'm so glad for you, Miss Holt. And for Mr. Steele. I just knew you two kids were meant for each other."

"So did we, Mildred. It just took us a while to find the right path, that's all."

"Have you called your mother?"

Laura's eyes took on a glazed, terrified look. "My mother. No. No, I haven't. I guess I'll have to, won't I?"

"Unless you and the chief are planning to elope, -."

"No. But it's something to consider," Laura mused. She picked up the telephone, almost dialing her mother's number, then at the last minute dialing the number from the house on the beach that morning.
"That's not your mother's number," Mildred scolded.

"Later, Mildred," Laura said. "In fact, I might even let Remington break the news to her," she said as the woman on the other end of the line answered.

"Malibu Beach Properties," she said. "Elaine speaking. May I help you?"

"Yes, at least, I hope so. I was out there this morning and noticed a house - " she narrowed her eyes, recalling the number. "Glassed in sunroom on the back, huge deck - set a little off the road -"

"Oh, that's a lovely house," Elaine agreed. "But I'm afraid it's no longer on the market."

"It's not?" Laura asked, her disappointment evident. "But this morning-"

"Someone came in just before lunch and put a downpayment on it. I'd be glad to take your name and number in case the gentleman changes his mind -"

"No. No, that's all right - " The gentleman. "You couldn't tell me who bought it, could you?"

"I'm sorry, -"

"Tell me this, was he tall, dark hair, blue eyed? With an accent?"

Elaine was stunned. "Do you know him?" she asked. "I mean, he's drop dead gorgeous. I was ready to offer to help him settle in until he mentioned his fiance -" she fell silent. "And I'll bet that's you, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Laura confirmed. "Thank you, Elaine. Good bye." She shook her head.

"What is it, Miss Holt?"

"Remington bought a house."

"Oooh. He did?"

"In Mailbu. Put the downpayment on it this morning. I wonder where he got the money? Something like that -" She watched as Mildred pretended an interest in her desk calendar. "I know, Mildred."

Mildred looked up at her, uncertain. "You do, Miss Holt?"

"Yes. I overheard you talking to Daniel earlier and did some research - Why didn't you tell me that Remington had been using Agency funds that way?"

"When I first found out about it, I thought he was the boss, Miss Holt. That it was his money to invest. He hasn't touched Agency funds for over a year. And he's paid everything he borrowed back. I can show you the reports -"

"That won't be necessary, Mildred. But you can show me his portfolio, if you wouldn't mind."

"Oh, Miss Holt-"

"He told me to ask you about it, Mildred." Mildred turned to her computer and typed in some commands. As she typed the password, she looked up.

"Miss Holt, could you answer a question?"

"I can try."

"Why is his password fandance?"

Laura simply smiled.

**********

When the door to Remington's office opened, Laura was still sitting at the computer, reading, Mildred behind her. She looked up at the two men. "You've been holding out on me," she accused.

Daniel frowned as Remington moved closer to her asking, "What do you mean?"

"This," she said, indicating the screen. "Stocks, bonds, real estate, business ventures. How much of Che Rive do you own?"

"About - thirty percent, I think," he told her.

"Thirty -" she said in a strangled voice. "You missed your calling, Remington," she told him.

"Nonsense. I don't think I've done that badly as a private detective, have I?" He reached across to turn off the computer.

"What-? I wasn't finished-"

"I thought we might take a drive out to the house. I want to show it to Daniel - and then we have to call your mother-"

Laura looked at Daniel. "My mother? Whose idea was this?"

"Mine, I'm afraid," Daniel admitted. "I wouldn't want to get off on the wrong foot with Abigail. Nor does Harry."

"He's right."

"You could tell her the entire truth about yourself," Laura told him, "And she'd still think you walked on water, and you know it. That goes for both of you."

"Are you going to stand there all day arguing, love?" Remington asked, taking her hand, "or are you going to join us?"

"I think I've lost the war, Mildred," she said, shaking her head at father and son. "Let's go."

As they turned, Daniel noticed that Mildred was still at the desk. "Coming, Mildred?" he asked.

"I didn't think I was invited," Mildred said. "After all, I'm not family -"

"Don't be ridiculous, Mildred," Remington said. "Of course you're family." He put his arm around the woman's shoulders. "You've been the only family I've had until today. That I knew about, anyway." He grinned at her as she fought back tears. "Now let's go. And afterwards we can stop for dinner somewhere-"

"How about that little place about a mile from the house?" Laura suggested. "The shrimp there is-"

Remington stopped as he put the key into the door. "How did you know which house I'd decided on?" he asked her.

"I- called about it myself a few minutes ago."

"The restaurant sounds fine," Daniel assured them. "Doesn't it, Mildred?"

"Yeah. Anything's fine with me."

In the limo, Daniel lifted Laura's hand to examine the ring. "Have the two of you set a date yet?" he asked.

"No," Laura answered.

"Not yet," Remington said at the same time. "We're - easing into our way along, Daniel. When the time is right-"

"It took you four years to get this far," Daniel reminded them. He coughed lightly into his handkerchief. "Excuse me. It's nothing- I just-"

Laura and Remington exchanged glances. "We'll discuss it later," they both said.

"But I can promise you, Daniel," Remington assured him, pulling Laura against his side. "That it won't take nearly that long to set a date."

Daniel Chalmers returned his handkerchief to his pocket, and smiled. Things were definately looking up.

To Be Continued ----