Harry noted Mildred's expression as
they got into her car. "What is it, Mildred?" he asked.
Mildred put the key into the ignition, then stopped. "Are
you really going to endanger Laura's life by trying to palm fake
Royal Lavulite off on Hepplewhite?"
"Do you have a better plan?" he asked, and when she
sighed, he reached across the seat to touch her arm. "Mildred,
we have no idea where he might have taken her. So until he contacts
us- you mentioned something about research?"
"Yeah," Mildred told him, picking up the folder she'd
put on the front seat. "Here. Read this while we're heading
back to the office." She started the engine and put the car
into gear. "You're lucky that building security cleared all
the reporters out this morning."
"Madhouse, was it?" Harry questioned as he read the
disturbing report.
"Every reporter in the city was there, asking questions about
whether or not you were coming back to the agency, where you'd
been, how Laura feels about your return."
"I'm sure you gave them your usual line," he murmured.
"Mildred, is this on the level?"
"It's all documented."
"If so, then Laura was in danger from Hepplewhite the moment
they met." He slapped the seat with the folder. "Damn!
And she wouldn't have taken the case if she hadn't realized that
I was going to try and steal those gems. *I* put her in this position
by coming back!"
Mildred frowned. "That's not true, boss." She winced.
"Harry. Sorry. Anyway, that old man was after her for a month
before you came back. He'd been determined to see her but she
was always out. If anyone's to blame, I am."
"YOU?"
"I was the one who called Mr. Hepplewhite and told him where
Laura would be the other evening. He wasn't planning on attending
the awards ceremony until then. I don't know how I could have
missed it. Every time we met- the first time we discussed his
case, we were in Laura's office- your OLD office- and he spent
most of the time looking at the pictures on the wall."
"Pictures on the wall?"
She smiled. "You'll see what I mean." Turning the corner,
she told him, "I think we'll go in through the parking garage.
Less chance of being spotted that way, just in case someone's
watching."
"Good idea, Mildred. I knew you'd make a first rate detective."
"Seems to me that you fought that tooth and nail," she
told him as she parked the car in her assigned spot. "Didn't
want to give up your little perks."
"Well, yes. But could you blame me? You'd spoiled me terribly,
you know."
"Only because you deserved a little spoiling," Mildred
said with an indulgent smile as they headed toward the elevators.
"Ah, Mildred," Harry said, putting an arm around her
shoulders. "I DID miss you. Wasn't quite the same without
you to keep me grounded."
"Oh- I meant to tell you. Someone named Jeannie called this
morning right after I got to the office. Said that she wanted
me to remind you to call-"
Harry laughed softly. "I called. And I'm going to have to
talk to Jeannie about going over my head. I'll call and leave
a message for her about it when we get upstairs."
"She and I compared notes while we were on the phone."
"Compared notes?" he asked warily. "What about?"
"You, of course. Seems I'm not the only one who spoils you."
When Harry scratched his ear like an embarrassed little boy, Mildred
laughed. "Don't worry. I liked her. But I don't think she's
going to be willing to relocate to Los Angeles. It's too far away
from her granddaughter."
"I know. I suppose I'll have to find someone else to fill
her position."
"Then you're going to keep HCR open?"
"Yes, I am." He paused as the elevator doors opened
on the eleventh floor and a wave of déjà vu overcame
him.
"Harry?" Mildred asked, worried. "You okay?"
"Oh, just never thought I'd be here again, that's all,"
he said, joining her as they moved closer to the glass doors that
had once borne the name "Remington Steele Investigations",
and were now emblazoned with "Laura Holt Investigations".
He paused again just outside, looking in. "I'd have thought
she would have redone the entire place," he told Mildred.
"She thought about it," Mildred told him, watching him
as he opened the door for her. Clarice looked up from the receptionist's
desk, her eyes widening as she saw the man with Mildred. "Any
messages, Clarice?"
"Um, just Miss Holt's sister," Clarice told the older
woman, her gaze never leaving Harry. "You're-"
He held out his hand across the desk. "Harrison Chalmers,"
he said quickly. "And you are-?"
"Um, ah, Cla-Clarice Jones."
"Ah. Pleasure to meet you at last, Clarice. Mildred's told
me what a fine job you've been doing."
Clarice finally looked at Mildred. "She has?"
"Oh, yes. Said that she and Miss Holt couldn't keep the place
running without your capable assistance."
"It's about time you got back," Tony ground out from
the main office door. He looked even more rumpled than before,
if possible as he ran a hand through his hair. "I think I
dozed off on the couch in there," he explained. "Did
you tell him what you found, Mildred?"
Harry held up the folder. "She did. And it doesn't change
the plan. Unless we can find out where he's gone to ground, looking
for her would be like looking for a needle in a haystack."
"I think I found some possible places," Tony told them,
turning and leading them into the office that he had come from
moments before.
Harry entered behind Mildred, taking in the familiar room. It
had Laura's indelible mark on it now- there were files on the
desk- an ink blotter and pen set. A computer sat on a table nearby.
And the wall that Murphy Michaels had once dubbed "the wall
of shame", where pictures of Remington Steele had been hung,
was now covered instead with photos of Laura and awards bestowed
upon the agency. "What did you find, Tony?" Mildred
asked.
"You with us, Chalmers?" Tony questioned.
"Uh, yes. Quite," he said, joining them behind the desk.
"Go on."
"I did a search for property in the area owned by Hepplewhite.
Came up with several warehouses, things like that, and a few houses.
Most of them are in the city, no way he could hide her there.
But there are a couple in the hills- more or less remote, no neighbors
for miles."
Harry noted the locations of the property. "They're far enough
apart that if we guess wrong, he'll have time to cover his tracks
before we get to the other one."
"Then we hit them at the same time."
"Antony, you're talking a suicide mission. His men would
cut you down before you had a chance."
"Well I happen to think getting Laura out of that - guy's
clutches is important."
"Are you saying that I don't?"
Mildred stepped between the two men. "Hey! This isn't getting
us anywhere," she told them. "Why don't we just call
the police?" she suggested. "Have them search both places."
"If he so much as SMELLS police, he'll kill Laura, Mildred,"
Harry pointed out. "But I do need to get this information
to Mike Jackson."
Mildred picked up the folder. "I'll take care of that,"
she offered, then turned toward her office. As she opened the
door, she said, "You two behave yourselves."
Once she was gone, silence fell over the room. Harry concentrated
on the photos and awards, while Tony sat behind the desk, watching
him. "You were with Laura when I called this morning, weren't
you?"
Harry glanced at him. "I don't see that it's any of your
business."
"Laura's a friend. I don't want to see her hurt again."
"Seems we've covered this ground before, Antony," Harry
replied. "What's wrong, mate? Upset that I've only been back
a few days and have gotten farther with her than YOU have in twelve
years?" The moment the words were out of his mouth, Harry
regretted having said them. But it was too late.
"I KNEW it!" Tony said, rising to his feet. "You
took advantage of her and-"
"I love Laura, Antony," Harry said in a quiet voice
that brought silence to the room. "Even with a continent
and ocean between us, nothing's changed in that regard. Laura
wants me back in her life. She told me that last night. And I
fully intend to do precisely as Laura wants."
Laura sat on the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on the dresser
drawer across the room. What had Hepplewhite said when they'd
arrived? Something about having planned to bring her here and
all of this just moving his timetable up? Slowly, she rose and
crossed to the dresser again, picking a cream silk nightgown out
from the rainbow of colors in the drawer. She held it up, judging
that it was, indeed, her size or close to her size, anyway. Going
to the closet, she found dresses, again her general size. The
other drawers revealed equally expensive women's clothing.
Why would Lucas Hepplewhite, a man who had been married only once
years ago, have women's clothes in this remote cabin, she wondered.
And why would he plan to bring her here? She heard the bolt slide
back on the outside of the door and stuffed the silk back into
the drawer and pushed it shut, turning just as the door opened
to reveal a dark suited man carrying a tray of food. "Mr.
Hepplewhite said you were to eat," he told her.
"You can take it back. I'm not going to eat it. Or drink
anything he offers."
"You really should co-operate with him, Miss Holt. He's much
easier to get along with when you do."
"Co-operate with a madman? Are you AWARE of what he is? Of
what he did during the war?"
"We've all got things in our pasts that we're not proud of,"
the man told her. "I'll leave the tray here in case you change
your mind."
As he started to close the door, Laura asked, "How long is
he going to keep me in here?"
"Until your friends return Mr. Hepplewhite's property."
He closed the door. Laura picked up the tray and tossed it against
the wood in a futile show of anger, then began to pace the room
again, giving the dresser and its lacy lingerie a wide berth.
Something about it being there at all made her VERY uncomfortable.
As Tony and Harry faced off, the telephone on the desk rang, and
both men looked at it as Mildred came in. Moments later, Clarice's
voice came over the intercom. "Miss Krebs, it's for Mr.-
It's for HIM. Mr. Hepplewhite."
Harry looked at Mildred and Tony before picking up the phone.
"Chalmers."
"Ah, I thought you might have returned to your old offices."
"Where's Laura? IS she all right?"
"Miss Holt is quite well. And she will remain that way- so
long as I get what I want."
"The Royal Lavulite."
"Yes. Surely the life of your former partner and wife is
more valuable than the paltry reward you would receive from the
South Africans."
Harry gave it a beat before answering, pretending to consider
the idea. "What guarantee do I have that you'll let us go
after you get the gems?"
"You have my word as a gentleman," Hepplewhite assured
him smoothly.
"Where do you want to make the exchange?"
"Take a cab to the top of Reseta Drive. I will have a car
waiting there for you and your friend Roselli. He and I have unfinished
business as well."
"Aren't you afraid I'll try and scam you?" Harry questioned.
"Try to palm off fakes?"
"You'd be quite foolish to try something like that. Miss
Holt would meet a very- tragic end. She's such a charming woman.
Full of life, of fire."
Harry gripped the phone tighter. "I'd suggest you have someone
at had to authenticate the gems, Hepplewhite. Someone you trust."
"You have thirty minutes, Mr. Steele-or whatever your name
is. If you're late, then Miss Holt's death will be on your conscience."
CLICK!
"Well?" Tony asked.
"We have to be at the top of Reseta Drive in thirty minutes.
He'll have a car meet us there. Call a cab, will you, Mildred?"
He took out his cell phone and dialed a number. "We're about
to leave," he said to the person on the other end. "Yes.
If you haven't heard from us in two hours-That's right."
"The cab's on its way," Mildred told him. "Who
was that?"
"Our insurance policy. Ready, Antony?"
"Yeah. Let's get this show on the road and find Laura,"
he muttered, grabbing his jacket and pushing past Harry through
the doorway.
Mildred looked at Harry. "Be careful."
"Always," he promised, giving her that devil may care
grin that she knew only two well. "Be back before you know
it."
The cab was waiting in the parking garage as Mildred had arranged,
and as they got in, Harry told the driver, "Top of Reseta
Drive. And don't worry about the tickets, mate," he said,
handing a wad of bills over the man's shoulders as incentive.
"You got it, pal," he said.
Tony sat back. "You wanna explain this to me one more time?"
he asked, lowering his voice so that the driver couldn't overhear.
"How is palming off fake Royal Lavulite on Hepplewhite going
to get Laura and us out of there alive?"