"Lenny, isn't it?" she asked.
The young man smiled, seeming pleased that she remembered his name. "Miss Holt. Yes, that's me. Not many people remember it. Don't see a lot of people, I guess. Being night doorman, and all. Except for you and Mr. Steele, of course. You two are out and about at all hours."
"Speaking of Mr. Steele, Lenny- have you seen him during the last couple of days?"
"No. Haven't seen him since - oh, I guess it's been three months. George told me that he'd gone out of town for awhile- and I read it in the paper, too. You did a real good job on that hit man case. Really brave thing you did." He grinned in Greg's direction. "Hey, aren't you that FBI guy? The one who was in the picture with Miss Holt?"
"Lenny," Laura said, getting his attention again. "Have you HEARD from Mr. Steele? Seen his suitcases, gotten any messages?"
"His suitcases. They were here earlier, but some guy picked them up."
Laura smiled at Greg. "What guy?"
"Oh, middle aged, I guess. White hair- spoke with an accent. I think I'd seen him here before, visiting Mr. Steele."
Laura recognized Daniel Chalmers from the description. "Did he happen to say where he was taking the cases? Or where Mr. Steele might be?"
"No. But he gave me some money to give to George for holding them since yesterday afternoon. I wasn't here last night, he might have been here then, but George didn't mention it when I came on duty. All he said was that Mr. Steel would be sending someone to get them-" His eyes widened. "And he also said I wasn't supposed to tell you about it if you came around. George is going to kill me."
Laura placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't worry about it, Lenny. Just don't tell him I was here. What time did the man pick up Mr. Steele's cases?"
"Oh, around seven, last night, I think. I came on duty early so that George could go home for his grandson's birthday party. Yeah, it was seven."
"Thank you, Lenny."
"Has something happened to Mr. Steele, Miss Holt?"
"It's possible," she told him. "Just remember, I wasn't here." He smiled at her, and then she and Greg turned away. "Well?" she asked as they moved toward the Rabbit.
"Two things: One, it's time for me to throw my weight around and get that accident information for you."
"And two?" Laura asked, digging her car keys out of her purse, only to have him take them from her.
"I'll drive."
The clerk at the LAPD dispatch office shook his head. "I'm sorry, Miss. Unless you were involved in the accident, I can't release the information."
"If I were a reporter you'd give it to me," she said.
"Are you a reporter?" he asked her, and Laura knew that if Greg hadn't been with her, she would have lied and say she was.
"No. I'm a private investigator, and I'm trying to-."
The man's eyes widened. "That's where I've seen you before. You're that lady PI that's been in the news so much lately. Miss Holt. Laura Holt. Of course." His eyes slid to Greg. "And you're that FBI agent, right?"
Greg grinned tightly. "I think Miss Holt needs that information, Sergeant Humbolt," he said in his best "agent" voice. "She's trying to locate someone and it's very possible that he might have been in an accident day before yesterday around Griffith Park."
Humbolt took a deep breath. "Look, these records are confidential. If I give you any information, it could cost me my job."
"I'd be more worried about your job if you DON'T give it to us," Greg warned. "I'd hate to have to call the commissioner about this," he sighed when Humbolt still made no move toward his computer or files. "He won't appreciate being awakened because you refused to cooperate."
Humbolt's fingers fell on the computer keyboard and within a few moments, he asked, "You said the accident happened day before yesterday? Near Griffith Park?"
"That's right," Laura said, sending a grateful glance in Greg's direction.
"What time?"
"Between - noon and two p m," she told him.
"There you go. Traffic accident- pedestrian injured, ambulance dispatched to scene, victim transported."
Laura glared at the screen. "That's all?"
"You want names? You'll have to get the investigating officer's report."
"Who was the investigating officer?" Laura asked.
Humbolt pressed another key. "Officer Daley."
"Where can we find him?"
"Oh, he works the afternoon shift- won't be on duty until eleven."
"What about the ambulance?" Greg asked. "Which one was dispatched to the scene?"
"Number 497," he answered.
"Nothing in there about where they took the man who was injured?" Laura wanted to know, reading over his shoulder to confirm his next words.
"I'm sorry, no. It's standard procedure to take patients to County General- unless they request another hospital."
"How would we go about finding the paramedics who were on that ambulance day before yesterday?"
"Uh, 497 is dispatched out of County. They might be there- or they might be off duty. No way of telling. All I can tell you is that they were dispatched out on a call just a few minutes ago."
Laura decided not to wait for Officer Daley, but to go to County General. The ambulance in question wasn't there, and the duty nurse agreed -after they'd already waited nearly an hour- to let them stay and wait in the breakroom. In the small room, which contained a table and chairs, a lumpy sofa, a small refrigerator, and a coffee machine, Greg poured two cups of the dark liquid, handing one to Laura. "They might not be on duty, Laura," he warned.
"I know," she said, taking a sip of the coffee, and then made a face. "Ugh. This is terrible."
"Oh, I don't know. Reminds me of the office coffee where I work," Greg told her, leaning against the counter, watching her as she sat at the table. "Why don't we go talk to Officer Daley and then come back?" he suggested.
"And if they're gone again when we do?" Laura countered, shaking her head. "I'm staying right here until they come in, Greg. You don't have to stay," she said. "I'm sure you have things you need to be doing other than helping me find Mr. Steele."
"Not a blessed thing," he told her. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Laura Holt. Besides, I'm looking forward to meeting your Mr. Steele."
Laura's eyes narrowed. "Greg- about Mr. Steele-,"
"Don't you ever call him anything else?" Greg asked. "For the last three months, whenever you mention him, it's always `Mr. Steele'. Never `Remington'. Or even Harry."
"It's a long story, Greg," she told him. "And right now isn't the time for me to try and tell it."
"Looks like we may have some time," he told her. "Why did you ever invent Remington Steele to start with?"
Laura shrugged. "I always loved excitement . . ."
"And there you have it," she finished as the door opened, and two men entered the room. They looked tired, but smiled, curious, when they saw Laura and Greg already in the room.
"Sorry, but this is a private break room. The coffee machines are-," one of them began, but Laura cut him off.
"I'm not looking for coffee. I'm trying to find the men who were on ambulance 497 when it picked up a man who was hit near Griffith Park day before yesterday."
The men looked at each other. "What about him?" one asked.
"Hey, I know who he looked like now," the other said, his eyes on Laura. "You're Laura Holt, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am," she confirmed, her excitement building. "Who did the man look like?"
"Your boss. Steele. But he said his name was -," he paused, thinking. "Chambers- no, Chalmers. That's it. Harrison Chalmers."
"Chalmers?" Laura repeated, the pieces beginning to fall into place. "That's the man I'm looking for," she told him. "Did you bring him here? To County?"
"He asked us to take him somewhere else," the man said.
"Where?" Greg asked.
"Sisters of Mercy Hospital."
"How badly was he hurt?" Laura wanted to know.
"Said he couldn't feel his legs. Other than a few cuts and bruises, he looked fine. Vitals were all pretty good, considering what happened. He was lucky, if you ask me. Said he was too busy looking at the Observatory instead of paying attention to traffic."
"I was right," Laura whispered. "He was hurt."
Greg took her arm and nodded at the men. "Thank you for the information. Come on, Laura."
She let him lead her back through the emergency area and out to the car, where Greg asked, "You want me to drive you to the hospital?"
Laura nodded, wishing the fear that had gripped her heart with icy fingers would go away. He had to be all right. He simply HAD to.
When she entered the building, Laura went to the information desk. "What room is Mr. Chalmers in, please?"
The woman behind the counter checked a list. "Room 16," she said with a smile.
"Thank you," Laura said, leading Greg down the hallway until she found Room 16. But the door was open and the bed inside was empty. The icy fingers tightened further, and Greg must have seen something in her eyes, because he called out to a passing nurse.
"Nurse?"
She was pretty, petite- shorter than Laura, even- with curling black hair and big green eyes. "Yes?"
"Could you tell us where Mr. Chalmers is?"
"He's upstairs," she said, but before she could say another word, Laura was out of the door and heading for the elevator down the hall.
She heard Greg say something to the nurse before catching up with her as the doors opened. "Laura, take it easy. Breathe, okay?"
"I can't. Not until I know he's all right." The doors opened on another corridor, and Laura stepped from the elevator and looked around, wondering where she should go.
Greg placed a hand to her elbow. "This way," he said, turning her toward a room marked "Waiting Area".
There was another person in the room, pacing the carpeted floor, only to pause as they entered. Laura recognized him immediately. "Where is he, Daniel?"
Daniel turned, looking at her as if her presence wasn't a surprise in the least. "Laura. Thank goodness. I was beginning to think that your weren't nearly as good a detective as Harry's told me you are, my dear. What took you so long?"
"Don't play games with me, Chalmers," Laura said. "Where is Mr. Steele?"
Daniel pointed to the doors down the hallway. "In there," he told her.
Laura read the sign on the door. "Operating Room." She turned to look at him. "He's in surgery?"
Daniel nodded. "I'm afraid so."
Laura felt light headed, and swayed, then found Greg on one side, Daniel on the other. "You'd better sit down, my dear," Daniel said.
"He's right, Laura," Greg agreed. "Look, I'm going to find some coffee- give you two a chance to talk, okay? I'll be around if you need me."
Laura smiled wanly, looking up at him. "Thank you, Greg."
"That's what friends are for- or so they tell me." He nodded in Daniel's direction, then left the waiting area.
"Who's he?" Daniel asked, his gaze locked on the now empty doorway.
"Like he said. A friend. I'm not here to talk about Greg, Daniel. What happened?"
"Surely you know that by now, Laura. Harry had an accident."
"But why give his name as Harrison Chalmers instead of Remington Steele?" she asked.
"Because if he had, then you would have been notified- and he didn't want that to happen."
"Why not? I should have been with him."
"He couldn't feel his legs after the accident," Daniel told her, then proceeded to bring her up to date on the options that Harry had been given - and his decision to risk the surgery. "He refused to even discuss the matter. All he wanted was to be able to walk back to you on his own two legs."
"You should have called me," she said, glaring at him.
"I wanted to, my dear. But Harry forced me to give him my word that I wouldn't. I'm glad you're here, Laura, but- don't take this wrong- you can't stay."
"What are you talking about?" Laura asked, surprised that he would try to get rid of her even now. "Of COURSE I'm staying. As soon as he comes out of that operating room, I'm going to see him."
"No, you're not. If Harry discovers you're here, he'll think that I broke my word. As much as I want the two of you together, my dear, I can't let that happen. Harry and my relationship is too fragile at the moment for me to allow anything to breach it. Even you."
"Your- relationship? What are you talking about? And why is Mr. Steele using the name Chalmers? He's never used it before that I'm aware of."
"That's something I think Harry wants to explain himself."
"I'm staying, Daniel," Laura said firmly and sat down again. She looked up at him. "But I won't see him until you say I can," she compromised. "As long as I know he's okay."
Daniel sat down next to her and took her hand. "He will be," Daniel said. "He's strong. And he's absolutely determined to get back to you. It's where he belongs, after all."
Laura took a deep breath as the icy fingers loosened slightly at last. "I'm sorry."
He placed an arm around her shoulders, and they waited, together, their eyes on the door at the end of the hall.
Sometime later, Laura heard Greg's voice. "I brought some coffee."
"I think she's asleep, Daniel told him.
Her head was on his shoulder - strange that she'd never noticed how broad his shoulders were before now, she thought- his arm still around her. Maybe she'd been too busy trying to fight him for Mr. Steele to notice.
"No, I'm not asleep," she said, opening her eyes and sitting up. "Just resting. I haven't gotten a lot of sleep these last couple of night." She took the cup from Greg. "Thank you." Looking toward the double doors, she asked Daniel, "How long as he been in there?"
"Almost five hours."
Laura rose and began to pace in much the say way Daniel had earlier. "What's taking so long?" she wondered aloud, then her eyes widened as the doors began to open. Daniel was at her side immediately, leaving Greg to remain in the background. Laura found herself holding Daniel's hand tightly as the doctor approached the room.
He was in his late fifties, Laura guessed, with a ring of white hair around his bald head. Still wearing green surgical scrubs, he spoke to Daniel. "Mr. Chalmers."
"Dr. Carstairs. How is Harry?"
"He made it thought surgery," Carstairs told him. "He'll be in recovery for some time and he's going to completely immobilized for twenty four hours to give things a chance to settle down."
"Can we see him?" Laura asked, ignoring Daniel's frown of disapproval as Carstairs turned his attention to her.
Daniel managed a smiled. "Forgive me. Dr. Carstairs, this is Laura. Harry's- fiancée," he explained, tightening his grip on Laura's hand.
"Fiancée?" Carstairs questioned as he shook Laura's hand. "I wasn't aware that he had a fiancée. But now I understand his being so anxious to get back onto his feet so quickly."
Daniel looked a trifle put out. "Which leads me to ask a favor of you, Doctor. Harry preferred Laura not be made aware of his accident- He's been out of town and was on his way to see her when it happened. If he discovers that she's here- it might set him back, mightn't it?"
Laura narrowed her eyes in Daniel's direction, fully aware of where he was going with this. "I just want to see him for minute," she said. "He won't even have to know I'm there."
"I'm willing to keep your little secret, miss, but once the news gets out that you're Harry's fiancée, someone else is bound to mention your being here. And Mr. Chalmers is right. For the next twenty four hours, it would be best if Harry wasn't disturbed or upset by anything. But I THINK I might have a solution- if you're willing -?" he said to Laura.
"Anything, doctor. Just tell me what I have to do. . ."
To Be Continued . . .