To Steal a Steele

Part Five

Remington's head hurt. Even thinking hurt. Perhaps Laura had been right -perhaps he SHOULD see a doctor about it. He moved his head, intending to shake it and clear it, trying to remember what had happened. But the slight movement sent a wave of nausea through him, and he remained on the floor. He'd been checking the gallery-no, that had been last night. Felicia. He'd come see Felicia- Slowly he managed to get to his feet, and started to put a hand to his aching head-when he discovered that there was a gun in his hand. Frowning, he looked down to see Felicia's body at the same time as he head a startled gasp from the doorway.
Turning, he saw a hotel maid, her eyes wide, the towels that were in her hands now at her feet as she turned and ran, screaming.

Laura saw the police cars in front of the building as Fred brought the limo to a stop. "Wait for me, Fred," she told him before entering the building. Crossing to the desk, she told the harried looking clerk, "I'm Laura Steele. I'm looking for-"
His eyes widened. "He's in the manager's office, Mrs. Steele. You got here fast-"
"Who-?" she was about to ask, but he turned to lead her down a back corridor, where there seemed to be police everywhere. The door to the office was ajar, and she paused to listen as the clerk left her to return to his post.
"Look, Jarvis. I've already told you what happened. She was dead when I went into that room."
Remington? Who was he talking about? Who was dead?
"And someone hit you on the head," Lt. Jarvis said dryly, "and then put the gun in your hand." Laura opened the door wider. "Mr. Steele, I want to believe you, but the evidence-" Jarvis lifted his eyes to the movement in the doorway. "Laura. Mrs. Steele."
Remington turned around in his chair. "Laura-"
She didn't look at him. "What's going on here?" she asked, directing the question to the police detective.
"Someone killed Felicia," Remington told her.
Laura kept her eyes on Jarvis. "Why are you so certain he did it, Lt. Jarvis?" She wanted to know. She wasn't sure she trusted herself to talk ot Remington just now.
"He was discovered in the room with the murdered woman, a gun in his hand-"
"Was it the murder weapon?"
"We have to find that out."
"Then you can't charge him with murder."
"No, but we can hold him as a suspect," Jarvis told her.
"What about a parafin test?" Laura suggested.
"The gun had a silencer," he said. "Parfin tests wouldn't be conclusive."
"Jimmy, I'll make sure he stays put," she said. "Until you have some hard evidence-"
Jimmy Jarvis looked at her, as if trying to decide whether or not to trust her. "All right. But don't make me regret this decision, Laura." He turned to Remington. "You can go, Steele."
For one moment, Remington was tempted to face time in a jail cell rather than face Laura's anger. "Fred's waiting," she said shortly.
He got up slowly from the chair and followed her out to the limo. "I didn't do it, Laura," he said softly, once the car was moving.
"Why in heaven's name did you go to see her in the first place?" Laura wanted to know, the depth of her hurt evident in that tone.
"She said she knew who had stolen the painting," he said. "That her life was in danger." He closed his eyes as another wave of nausea hit him. "My head feels as if it's about to burst."
Laura took a deep breath. "Let me see," she told him, reaching up to probe his scalp. She found the new bump, and Remington flinched.
"Ouch. Dammit, Laura-"
"There's another bump," she told him.
"I KNOW that," he said. "I TOLD Jarvis someone hit me while I was checking to see if she was still alive." He closed his eyes and sat back, then forward again to rest his head in his hands. "I feel bloody awful."
Laura leaned forward to tap on the glass. "The hospital, Fred."
"I don't need a hospital, Laura. I have to find out who killed Felicia and why he set me up as the murderer."
"I think you've got a concussion. Or worse. And if the doctor can confirm that you took TWO blows to the head, then it will prove that part of your story, anyway."
"Laura-" he began, taking her hand.
She pulled it away. "I don't want to talk about it, Remington. Not right now." She picked up the telephone and dialed a number. "Jessica- yes, he's with me. I'm taking him to the hospital. I'm going to have his head checked- All right." She hung up. "You didn't say you'd already called the office."
"I haven't had the chance to say much of anything, have I?"
"Jessica's going to meet us at the hospital." She sat back in the seat.
"Laura, would you please listen to me?"
"We'll discuss it later. You're in no condition-"
"Well discuss it NOW!" he insisted, wincing and moderating his tone. "Now, Laura. Unless I know you believe me-"
A pained expression crossed Laura's face. "I know you didn't kill Felicia," she told him. "But I'm angry as HELL that you put yourself-and the agency in this position."
"I didn't plan to do it, Laura," he told her as the car stopped.
Fred opened the door for them. "Find someplace to park the car, Fred," Laura told him. "And wait."
"Yes, Mrs. Steele."
At the desk, Laura told the nurse, "My husband needs to see a doctor."
The nurse looked at Remington. "What seems to be the problem?"
Before he could answer, Laura gasped, her hand going to her abdomen, her legs buckling. Remington caught her against him. "Laura? What's wrong, darling?"
"My-stomach-" She lifted fear clouded eyes to his. "The babies-"
Remington lifted her fully into his arms. "Forget about me. Get a doctor for my wife. She's Dr. Phillips's patient."
"He's in the hospital," she said, picking up the telephone. "I'll page him." She motioned for another nurse. "Patsy. Take this woman into OB 3."
Remington followed the woman down the corridor as she moaned again. "Hang on, love," he whispered, seeing how pale she was.
Dr. Phillips arrived within minutes, and sent Remington out to wait - but Laura had other ideas. "He's got a concussion," she told the black skinned doctor. "Needs attention-"
"Don't worry about me, Laura-" Remington began, only to have Dave Phillips look him over with narrowed eyes. "Patsy, take Mr. Steele to Dr. Howe, tell him I sent him."
The nurse went to the curtain, "Yes, doctor. This way, Mr. Steele."
Remington kissed Laura's hand. "I'll be right back," he told her. "I love you."
"Get out of here, Remington," Dr. Phillips ordered, "so I can do my job."

Jessica and Tony found Remington as he was coming out of the neurologist's office. "Well, what did he say?" she asked.
"He wants to put me in the hospital overnight for observation. Have you seen Laura?"
"No. We thought she was-"
"She collapsed as soon as we arrived," Remington told them, moving toward the elevator. "Dr. Phillips was with her in Emergency-"
"The babies?" Jessica asked, seeing his worried expression as he waited impatiently for the lift.
"I don't know. But I've got to get down there."
"What happened at the hotel, Steele?" Tony asked as the doors opened. He wanted to get the man's attention shifted from worrying about Laura.
"Felicia's dead. Someone killed her, then hit me over the head and planted the gun to make it look as if I'd done it." He looked at Tony. "What did you find out at Harwood?"
"Not sure. Mildred's checking some things out. And she said she found a possible problem with the temp agency."
The elevator stopped, and they headed toward emergency in time to see Dr. Phillips leaving the cubicle. "Arrange for a room, Patsy," he told the nurse, watching as the trio approached. "What did Dr. Howe say?" he asked Remington.
"He thinks I may have a hairline skull fracture. He wants to keep me overnight for observation and tests," he told the doctor. "How is Laura?"
"She's had a close call. I'm going to admit her, as well, to keep an eye on her."
"The babies?"
"They're fine," Dr. Phillips told him.
"Thank God," Remington breathed.
"For the moment," the doctor finished. When Remington turned worried eyes to him, the man said, "She was lucky. But if you don't find some way to reduce her stress levels, she WILL lose those children, Remington."
"How much danger is she in?"
"The next twenty four hours should tell the story. I've given her a mild sedative and something to stop the contractions. I can't do anything more and be certain it won't affect the babies."
"Can I see her?"
"Yes. They'll be taking her to a room upstairs in a few minutes. Remember what I told you. No stress. Neither one of you need that right now."
"Thank you, Dave," Remington said, slipping past the curtain.
"How close did she come to losing those babies, Doctor?" Jessica asked.
"It's mostly false labor," he confessed to the woman. "Happens often in these cases. But in Laura's case, it was aggravated by her worry about Remington."
Tony grinned. "So you thought you'd throw a scare into him."
"Laura's very worried about him."
"Maybe with reason," Tony said, his smile fading into concern.