Laura looked up at him. "Restraint?" she asked, her brows furrowed slightly in a frown.
"Yes. It's been a week since you discovered the reason for Murphy's visit to Los Angeles and you've yet to mention it to him."
"Well, he *is* recovering from a gunshot wound," Laura pointed out.
Remington nodded as he added, "That he received while saving my life."
"I didn't want to upset him during such a delicate period," Laura said, continuing forward.
Taking note of her determined stride, Remington asked, "And now?"
"He's being released tomorrow," Laura said. "I think he's well enough to handle getting a piece of my mind-," she paused near Murphy's room as Remington hesitated. "You don't agree?"
"Of course I do. I was ready to confront him along with Mildred and Bernice as soon as he came out of surgery, remember?" Indeed, he, Mildred and Bernice had been set to quiz the poor man relentlessly until Laura had stepped in and insisted that they give Murphy time to recover from his wounds before taking him to task for not letting his friends know that he was in trouble.
Instead, Laura had suggested that they simply fill Murphy in on what had occurred after he was shot, including Bernice's heroically saving of the day. They had been supportive, taking turns spending time with him to keep his spirits up.
Now, on the eve of Murphy's release, Remington realized that Laura had decided that it was time for Murphy to face the music- only Laura didn't know the entire tune.
Remington hadn't mentioned the full extent of the reason for Murphy's visit to Laura - and Murphy himself had pretended not to know what Remington was talking about when he had tried to bring it up during one of Remington's solitary visits to Murphy's sick room.
Laura wasn't going to be pleased that her former partner had been here trying to dig up dirt on her marriage, Remington mused.
She certainly hadn't been happy when Remington had shown her the letter he'd taken from Murphy's suitcase- or when he'd told her about the room in that run-down motel that Murphy hadn't told her about. Remington had simply insisted that he'd been waiting for the proper time to discuss the matter with her.
Laura had understood his reasoning, and dropped the subject.
"I have an idea that might help Murphy anyway," Laura told Remington now, bringing him out of his musings.
Remington was surprised. "You do?" he questioned as he pushed open the door to Murphy's room and allowed her to enter it before him.
"Good morning, Murphy," Laura said, her bright tone giving no hint of her inner turmoil, Remington decided.
"Both of you drew the short straw this morning?" Murphy teased.
"Not at all," Laura insisted, moving to tug at the pillow behind Murphy's back as he sat in a chair. She unnecessarily fluffed it, and returned it to where it had been. "Still due for release tomorrow?" she asked.
"So they tell me," Murphy confirmed, giving Remington a questioning look. "Is everything okay?"
"Right as rain," Remington assured the other man, his smile tight.
"You know," Murphy said, picking up a piece of paper that he'd been looking at, "I'm glad you're both here. Gives me a chance to ask why my hospital bill's being paid by the Agency."
"You did save Remington's life," Laura reminded her ex-partner.
Murphy grinned. "And as I told you both already, my getting shot wasn't part of that plan. I just - lost my bearings in the dark and wasn't sure where Gordon was."
"Well, we're grateful, anyway," Laura said.
"Hey, I didn't want to have to face you if something happened to him that I could have prevented," Murphy responded. "But I can't let you pay for-"
"And how are you going to pay for it, Murph?" Laura asked, and Remington winced as he realized that she'd taken the gloves off.
Murphy's eyes widened at her words, and then became resigned. "How'd you find out?"
Remington took the letter from the bank from his pocket. "This, for a start," he said.
Murphy glanced at the envelope. "Where'd you get this?"
"From your suitcase," Remington admitted. "In the motel, while you were getting cleaned up."
"You went through my things?" Murphy accused, frowning.
"He was concerned about you, Murphy," Laura explained. "Just like we all are. Me, Bernice, even Mildred. Why didn't you tell me you were in financial trouble, Murphy?" she asked.
Murphy took a deep breath that caught as the pain reminded him that he wasn't fully recovered from his wound. "I thought I could handle it without having to let you know that I'm a failure," he said.
"You're not a failure," Laura insisted.
"Oh yeah? What do you call being on the verge of bankruptcy, no office to work out of because I can't pay the rent, having to travel here from Denver by bus because I couldn't afford the plane fare?"
"Oh, Murphy," Laura said, sighing. "What happened? You were doing so well last year."
"Last year. Before my father lost his ranch because he couldn't pay the mortgage on it," Murphy said. "He was great with cows and horses, but couldn't run a business if his life depended on it." His smile turned bitter. "Like father like son, I guess."
Laura placed a hand on his arm. "I didn't know."
"I didn't want you to know. He moved into town with me, but he wasn't happy there. Then he got sick and just gave up. Between the debts he left and his medical bills, it took everything I had. And I spent all of my time with him instead of working- after he died, I thought about trying to open the doors again, but Dad had defaulted to almost every banker in the Denver area. None of them would even give me the time of day. So I figured I'd come to Los Angeles, see if some of the bankers I knew here would be willing to float me a loan."
"You could have come to us, Murphy," Remington suggested, but Murphy shook his head.
"What are you going to do now?" Laura asked.
"I can still talk to the bankers," Murphy told her. "Then I'll go back to Denver and start over again."
"You can't go back to Denver for at least another month," Laura pointed out. "And what's in Denver anyway?"
Remington was getting a niggling feeling at the base of his skull; a warning that he wasn't going to like what Laura was about to say. "I'm sure Murphy has friends there, Laura," he said quickly. "Perhaps even a lady friend-?" he added, giving Murphy a look of quiet desperation.
"I've got some friends, yeah," Murphy admitted. "But none of them really close. And I haven't had time for dating over the last year or so-" he looked at Laura. "What are you suggesting, Laura?"
"That you stay here, in Los Angeles. The Agency can use another operative."
"What about Mildred?" Remington asked, feeling as though the floor had dropped out from under him.
"She's still in training," Laura pointed out. "Murphy could be a big help with that. And it would give you and I more free time-"
That idea gave Remington pause to think. More free time with Laura. Doing things not involving the Agency. Then he realized that having Murphy around would be another distraction as well, considering the way Murphy felt about Laura.
"Bernice told me that you'd hired her as receptionist until things got worked out with Hopper," Murphy admitted, sounding as if he were considering the idea.
"She needed something to do," Laura said. "And I think she's the only one that Mildred trusts to run that office other than herself. Well, Murphy? What do you say?"
Murphy looked at Laura, then at Remington. He ran his hand through is hair, and his eyes met Remington's. "You didn't tell her, did you?"
"Tell me what?" Laura asked.
"No," Remington confessed. "I had wanted to discuss it with you before doing that. You refused to talk about it after the surgery, remember?"
"Refused to talk about what?" Laura questioned.
"Yeah, well, I didn't want to get into it. Thought I could just meet with the bankers and go back to Denver without her ever having been the wiser."
"The wiser about what?" Laura demanded. "Don't talk about me as though I wasn't in the room!"
"Meeting with the bankers wasn't the only reason for Murphy's visit, Laura," Remington said slowly.
"It wasn't?" Laura asked.
"I could have come to town and gotten the answer from the bankers without ever seeing you," Murphy admitted. "Wouldn't have had to risk your finding out about the money problems."
"So why didn't you?" Laura asked.
Murphy rose slowly from the chair and moved stiffly toward the window that overlooked the parking lot before answering. "About a week ago, I got a call from someone, saying that they needed some information. And they were willing to pay me a lot of money if I got it. Enough money that I wouldn't need to get in touch with the bankers for a while, anyway."
"What information?" Laura questioned.
Fingering the heavy drape on the window, Murphy looked at her, then away again. "Proof that your marriage to Steele wasn't legit," he answered.
Laura's shocked expression turned toward Remington. "You knew about this?" she asked.
"Only that someone had hired Murphy to dig up the dirt about our marriage. Nothing more," Remington assured her. "I wanted to discuss it further with him before bringing it to your attention."
There was disappointment in Laura's eyes when she finally looked at her old friend. "How could you, Murphy?"
"I'm sorry, Laura. I wasn't thinking. For what it's worth, I didn't really expect to get the information. I thought your marriage was real."
"It *is* real," Laura said in a firm tone that drew Remington's surprised look. "In every way that matters, at least. Now, *who's* your client?" When Murphy hesitated, Laura continued, "Don't give me the 'client privilege' routine, Murphy. Who is it?"
"Do you have to ask, Laura?" Remington said. "There's only one person who would benefit by getting proof that you and I aren't legally married."
Laura met his look for a moment. "Tony. That - *rat*."
"Who?" Murphy asked, giving them a confused look.
"Tony Roselli," Laura clarified, thoughtful. "But- he *had* the information," she reminded Remington. "He gave it back to you, remember? He wouldn't need to hire Murphy or anyone else."
"It wasn't a man," Murphy told them, drawing their attention. "It was a woman"
Laura gave Remington a look. "One of your old girlfriends, perhaps? Shannon Wayne? Felicia?"
"She didn't give me a name."
Remington turned quickly toward Murphy. "Tall, dark haired, British accent?"
Murphy shook his head. "Actually-"
"Very well, then, how about a tall, peroxide blonde-?" Laura continued.
"She was medium height, American, red hair with a pinched face. Looked like she'd spent a lot of time looking at computer screens or something."
Recognition hit Laura and Remington at the same time. "Gladys Lynch," they said at the same time.
"Of course," Laura said. "It makes sense. She wasn't happy that Tony had her transferred to Encino doing passports to keep her quiet. So she did her research and found out that Murphy used to work for the Agency and that he needed money."
"Who *is* she?" Murphy asked.
"She works- or rather *did* work for Immigration," Remington explained. "She was given my case after we returned from our honeymoon." He looked at Laura. "So, what do we do now?" he asked.
"I think Murphy has to go back to Denver- to finish that case, anyway."
Murphy nodded. "Yeah. Then I'll figure out some way to get a stake out there-"
"Nonsense," Laura said. "Then you'll come back to Los Angeles and return to the Agency."
"Laura, I don't know if that's a good idea," Murphy said. " I mean, you and Steele-"
"Listen to the man, Laura," Remington said. "He's making sense." When Laura sighed, Remington said, "Why don't we simply make him a loan ourselves? Give him that stake to reopen his own agency in Denver?"
"We'll discuss it," Laura said.
"When?" Murphy asked this time.
"After you assure Gladys Lynch that Remington and I are irretrievably and irrevocably married," she stated.
"Lie to a client?" Murphy said. "That's not like you, Laura."
"Who said it was going to be a lie?" Laura responded, slipping her arm through Remington's to look up into his surprised face. "How soon can we get things done, do you think? Legally, this time."
Remington looked at her. "Laura, are you proposing that we- that you and I-"
"That is *exactly* what I'm doing, Mr. Steele," Laura confirmed. "Proposing."
***
The ceremony was necessarily small again, with just Bernice, Murphy, a confused Mildred, Fred, and the minister in attendance. It took place in the living room of the Rossmore Arms apartment, a week after Murphy's release from the hospital. Afterward, Fred drove Murphy to the airport to catch his flight back to Denver for his meeting with Gladys Lynch.
Bernice went home with Mildred, having agreed to accept the older woman's offer of a room until she could afford a place of her own- or until Andrew Hopper's case wound it's way though the court system.
That left Laura and Remington alone at last, looking at each other over the last of the champagne they'd opened to celebrate.
"What shall we drink to?" Remington asked.
"To us, of course," Laura answered, touching her glass to his.
Remington reached out and grabbed her wrist, preventing her from drinking. "To you. You never fail to amaze me, Laura. Coming up with this-"
Lifting her empty hand, Laura traced the lapel of his jacket, circling the white rose boutonnière and continuing up to his jaw line. "What's wrong, Mr. Steele? Afraid that you're trapped now?"
"I was trapped the first time I saw you, Laura. And I never wanted to gain my release."
"Never?" she questioned.
"Never," he repeated slowly. Slipping his right arm around her left one, he said, "I have the toast. To being trapped with the person you love."
Laura smiled and lifted her own glass to her lips and emptied her glass.
Remington pulled her closer to him, putting both empty glasses on the table. "What say we make it an early evening, Mrs. Steele?"
"I say by all means, Mr. Steele," Laura replied, taking his hand and leading him toward the bedroom.
***
The moment his plane landed, Murphy picked up a telephone at the airport and dialed the number for his client, being careful not to reveal that he knew her name. "It's Murphy Michaels," he told her. "I'm back."
"Did you get the information?" Gladys asked.
"Can we meet?"
Gladys gave him the address of a coffee shop in downtown Denver, and Murphy was waiting when she arrived. The woman's face was actually glowing with anticipation as she slipped into the booth across from him. "Well?" she asked.
"I came up empty, I'm afraid."
"Empty?" the woman's eyes narrowed. "That's impossible. Steele and Holt aren't married. It was a sham."
"They're legally married. I even spoke to the man who married them. Believe me, there's no dirt to be uncovered there."
Gladys grabbed her purse and started to get up.
"Where are you going?" Murphy said. "What about my fee?"
"You didn't get what I asked for, Mr. Michaels. Now, I'll have to find someone else to do it."
"Why are you so determined to prove that Steele's marriage is a fraud?" Murphy asked. "The last person who thought that wound up dead at an airfield in Mexico, didn't he?"
"That won't happen to me. I *know* Steele and Holt faked that marriage so that Steele wouldn't be deported. That's why I was demoted to doing passports in Encino. After fifteen years as a caseworker. That's why I quit and decided to bring Steele down."
"Good luck, then. But you still owe me expenses." He slid a statement across the table toward her.
Gladys picked up the paper and looked at it. "I'll send you a check. Where should I send it?" she asked.
"I'll let you know," Murphy answered. "I'm in the process of moving. Things are a little unsettled at the moment." He rose from the booth, placing a five-dollar bill on the table to pay for his coffee. "Good bye, Miss Lynch."
He heard her gasp as he turned and went out the door to quickly disappear into the darkness of the nearest alley. He saw her come out, looking both ways down the street before she crumpled the bill in her hand and then tossed it away. Gladys took two steps before a police officer that was standing nearby spoke.
"Excuse me- are you aware there's a fine for littering?"
Gladys stopped, then went over to the wad of paper and picked it up, tossing it into the trashcan that sat beside the officer.
"Thank you," the officer said in a pleasant voice. "I wish all of Denver's citizens were as cooperative."
"I'm not a citizen," Gladys answered. "I'm a visitor. And once I'm gone, I don't ever intend to come back. Excuse me," she said, and moved past the man to stalk down the street.
Murphy leaned against the brick wall behind him, hands on his chest as he fought the laughter. Moving out onto the street again, he hailed a taxi to take him to his tiny apartment, where he was going to pack his things and take the next flight back to Los Angeles. There was nothing for him in Denver anymore.
***
"You're certain this is a good idea, Laura?" Remington asked for the tenth time as he watched her get the second desk set just so in what had once been Murphy's office and would now be his and Mildred's until they could secure new offices with more space.
"It will work out," Laura insisted. "Stop worrying."
"I can't help it."
"We worked together before."
"Hmm. And I seem to recall a bit of - friction between Murphy and myself-"
"You weren't Remington Steele, then. And he-"
"Was- and *is* in love with you, remember?"
"Murphy and I had a long talk while he was recovering in the hospital," Laura told her husband, moving to stand before him as he sat on the edge of Mildred's desk.
Remington's eyes searched hers. "You did?"
"And I told him that I was in love with you, and that he could either accept that and be my friend, or turn away and not look back."
"You told him-?"
"That I - love - you," Laura repeated, punctuating each word with a kiss along his jaw.
"You don't say that very often," Remington told her.
"You say it enough for the both of us," Laura pointed out.
"Hmm. Enough for you to agree to spend the weekend in Catalina with me?"
"I don't know," Laura hesitated. "With Murphy just starting, and-"
Remington pulled her close, cradling her body between his legs as he lowered his head toward hers for a long, promise-filled kiss.
When Remington lifted his head, Laura looked up at him. "When do we leave?" she asked.
The End