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"Laura," Bernice said, glancing
around. "What a surprise."
"I'm sure it is. Buying another magnum of champagne, are
we?"
"Actually, I was buying a bottle of wine for dinner this
evening. I told Mildred that . . ."
"Save it, Bernice. I talked to the delivery man this morning.
And Fred remembered the name of the delivery service from last
night. They BOTH sent me to THIS store. How COULD you? You, of
all people?" She frowned. "I thought we were friends.
I guess I was wrong," Laura said in a tone both angry and
sad as she started to turn away.
Bernice grabbed Laura's arm, and realizing that they were standing
in the entry of the shop, she half led, half drug her friend to
a nearby coffee shop. Once they were seated and coffee ordered,
Bernice sat back. "Now. You want to explain what you're talking
about?"
"I don't have to. YOU'RE the one who's been sending those
flowers to Mr. Steele. Those gifts. EXPENSIVE gifts. I thought
you understood the way things are, Bernice."
"I do, Laura, and that's why I'm doing this. I told you that
someone else was going to come along and take him from you, didn't
I?"
"I just never expected it would be you, Bernice," Laura
said.
"It's not for me, Laura. I'M not the one who's reaping the
benefits of all this, am I?"
Laura's eyes widened. "ME? You expect me to believe that
you've done all this for MY sake?!" she asked, falling silent
as the waitress brought their coffee.
Bernice sighed. "Listen, Laura, for the last four years,
you've danced all around the edges of any relationship with Mr.
Steele. Don't you think it's time you got in there and did a REAL
dance for once? Because if you don't, *I* just might be tempted
to take your place."
"You wouldn't. You don't even LIKE Mr. Steele," Laura
insisted.
"I wouldn't say that, exactly. I just backed off when I saw
which way the wind was blowing, that's all. Honey, he never REALLY
saw another woman once he met you. Everyone could see it. Murphy,
me- everyone except you. Hell, Murphy even tried to get me to
break the two of you up once."
Laura shook her head. "He did?"
"Not long after Mr. Steele BECAME Mr. Steele," Bernice
confirmed with a nod of her head. "I hoped you'd never find
out about it- I'm not very proud of myself for doing it, but-
well, a girl likes to dream, you know, and he IS drop dead gorgeous,
after all."
"What happened, Bernice?"
"Well, I took a file to his apartment one night- LATE one
night, said that you'd asked me to deliver it to him to look over
before a meeting with a client the next morning. It was raining
outside, and I convinced him to let me wait there until it let
up, since I was going to have to wait for a taxi. He went into
the kitchen to fix some coffee, and when he got back, well, umm,"
Bernice paused, trying to find a way to say it. "I tried
my dead level best to seduce that man, Laura, but he didn't respond
in the slightest. He kept reminding me that you were my friend,
and that he didn't want to come between us, things like that."
She saw Laura's shocked expression. "He finally gathered
all my things and shoved them into my arms and then shoved ME
out the door, telling me he'd call a cab."
Laura didn't know whether to laugh or scream. "Why, Bernice?"
"Like I said, Murphy said that he thought Mr. Steele liked
me, that he would be willing to forget all about you if I-well,
you know. I went straight to Murphy's after I left Mr. Steele's
apartment and almost quit there and then. But he talked me out
of it, said he'd take my side if Mr. Steele tried to make trouble,
that we could claim that HE tried to seduce ME."
"That's- AWFUL," Laura whispered. "I can't believe
that Murphy would be part of something like that."
"When it came to protecting you from Mr. Steele, Laura, Murphy
was willing to do almost anything. He was certain that you were
just going to end up being hurt, and he cared too much for you
to just stand there and watch it happen."
"Remington's never said a word about this," Laura said,
not realizing that she'd used the name until she saw Bernice's
expression.
"There's more to the story," Bernice admitted. "When
I got to the office the next morning, Mr. Steele was already there,
waiting for me. He told me that he was flattered by my attentions,
but that he'd already set his sights on someone else, and he wasn't
going to risk that budding relationship by becoming involved with
me. He said he wouldn't mention the incident again, because he
didn't want to cause trouble between you and me. You know, Laura,
I've been brushed off by lots of guys, but that man is Class,
with a capital C."
"I know. But that still doesn't explain the flowers, and
everything else."
"I thought you needed a little competition to spur you into
making a move," Bernice admitted. "I set up yesterday's
deliveries before Mildred and I got to the office."
"But-the cufflinks and tie pin. Those HAD to have been specially
made."
Bernice smiled again. "They were. I had them made in New
Orleans as a gift for Mr. Steele. I've got something for you,
too. It's at Mildred's."
"Oh."
"He thinks you're sending them, by the way."
"He what?"
"And he's expecting to meet with his secret admirer this
evening for an intimate dinner at the Hilton. I've reserved a
room there, ordered dinner. All that needs done now, is to get
you there and ready before he arrives with the champagne I just
ordered," she said, putting some money on the table between
them, and then grabbing Laura's hand to pull her from the shop.
"Bernice," Laura said, then finally broke away. "Bernice!"
When Bernice stopped and looked at her, Laura shook her head.
"I don't know that I'm ready for this step. And I CERTAINLY
don't want to be forced into it by. . ."
Bernice rounded on her friend. "No one's forcing you to do
anything, Laura. All I've done is set up dinner for two people
that I happen to think belong together. That's all. The rest is
entirely up to you." She glanced across the street at a clothing
boutique. "Let's go find you a new dress."
*****
As he approached the penthouse suite of the Los Angeles Hilton,
Remington realized that he was nervous. If Mildred had been telling
him the truth, this could be the most important evening of his
life. For a moment, he reflected on the last time he'd been in
the room directly before him. It was in that room that his entire
life had been unalterably changed by a petite brunette with a
gamine smile and infectious laugh.
He tightened his grip on the champagne and flowers as he lifted
his hand to knock, then hesitated, recalling the key in his pocket.
Taking it out, he placed it into the door, then turned the knob,
pushing the door open slightly. "Hello?" he said cautiously,
still half uncertain who he was going to find inside.
The room was much as he remembered it, tastefully furnished, with
that anonymous air that most hotel rooms seemed to have, he thought.
There was a table in the center of the sitting room, laid with
china and gleaming silver, candles aglow, even an ice bucket-
awaiting the bottle of champagne in his hand. He set the bottle
into it, pouring the bucket of ice around it, then froze as the
lights slowly dimmed, causing him to look up, then turn toward
the bedroom doorway.
Laura was there, lowering her hand from the switch. "Hello
there," she said softly, crossing the room with a rustle
of silk. The black silk and chiffon dress was perfection against
her creamy complexion, Remington noted as she came closer and
closer. "I was beginning to think I'd been stood up."
"Traffic," he said simply, and held out the flowers.
"These are for you," he managed at last. "I picked
them up on my way here."
"How thoughtful," she said, taking the flowers from
him. "You don't seem very surprised to see me here,"
she commented.
"I knew it was you all along," he told her.
"You're SURE about that, are you?"
"Well, I WAS sure- until I had a little talk with Mildred
just before I left the office. Turns out that she was my secret
admirer," he said.
"And Bernice," Laura told him.
"Bernice?" he asked, opening the bottle of champagne
to pour two glasses.
Taking hers, Laura nodded. "Why didn't you tell me what she
tried to do right after you came into our lives, Remington?"
"Ah," he said, wincing. "She told you about that?"
"When I found out that it was she who had been buying the
flowers and gifts."
"I didn't want to come between two friends," he told her.
"That's sweet."
"There was bit of self preservation
at the heart of my generousity," he admitted, and when she
looked up at him with a frown, he continued. "I was the outsider
at that time, Laura. Even if I HAD told you about it, our relationship
was too new to withstand the counter accusations I was certain
she would make. And at that point, you would have been far more
likely to believe her and Murphy over an interloper who had turned
your life up on its ear."
Laura lifted her glass. "To Mildred and Bernice, our matchmakers."
Remington grinned. "To Mildred and Bernice," he agreed.
"Let's just hope that all their hard work wasn't in vain."
She ran a fingernail up the lapel of his tuxedo. "We'll just
have to make sure it wasn't, won't we, Mr. Steele?" she asked,
lifting her lips to his.
"Oh, indeed, Miss Holt. Indeed." A knock on the door
caused him to sigh. "I couldn't be Mildred," he said.
"She promised."
"It's probably our dinner," Laura reminded him, taking
another sip of champagne as she turned to open the doors.
The waiter finished serving them, then smiled. "Just call
when you're ready for me to pick everything up," he said.
"Thank you," Remington said, showing him to the door
and then closing it, but not before putting the "DO NOT DISTURB"
sign in place. Turning back to Laura, he held out her chair, then
went to his.
"Did you really believe that I was the one sending you those
flowers and gifts?" Laura asked him as they began to eat.
"Yes," he admitted. "I thought you were simply
playing another of your little games."
"MY little games?" Laura questioned.
"Poor choice of words," Remington said quickly, lifting
his napkin to his mouth. "What I meant to say was that I
hoped that you were ready to take our relationship to the next
logical step, and were using the flowers and gifts to get there."
He'd confused her with that one. He could see it in her eyes.
"Oh, and as much as I hate to bring up business, you might
want to know that Mildred finished going over Mrs. Jameson's books."
"Did she find anything we can use?"
"Apparently Taylor had squirreled away a little over two
million into a dummy company based in the Caymans," he told
her.
"Two million?" Laura repeated, laying down her fork.
Remington saw the strange look in her eyes. "I don't know
if I like that look, Laura," he said. "Don't tell me
I'm going to regret giving you that little tidbit of information."
"That's a hefty acorn," she said. "But why would
he leave now? There was no reason for him to go. Mrs. Jameson
wasn't aware that he was stealing the money- Or was she?"
"Laura," Remington said, watching her rise from the
table and begin to pace around the room.
"What if she accused him of stealing from her?"
"Sit down, Laura," Remington said a bit more forcefully.
"At least eat while you try to ferret out the details of
the case. No sense in letting this food go to waste, is there?"
She sat down again, and picked up her fork. "There's my girl,"
he said with an approving smile. "Besides, Mrs. Jameson told
us that she'd had no suspicions of Taylor's duplicity before his
disappearance," he reminded her.
"That's true. But what if she was lying? Didn't she seem
awfully blasé about the disappearance of a man she'd known
for fifteen years? She was more worried about finding out what
he'd done with the money than she was finding where he might be."
"You're suggesting that she KNOWS where he is?" Remington
asked.
"I most certainly am. I noticed that the study in her house
where Taylor worked had been recently rearranged. The desk moved,
a brand new lamp on the desk-I didn't think much about it at the
time. I was too busy trying to figure out how to prove that YOU
were sending yourself all those flowers."
"Really, Laura, I told you once that I don't repeat myself,
remember? When you thought I was sending you those gifts and flowers
and it turned out to be that scary little Wally character?"
Laura shivered at the memory of that experience. "But I thought
it was something that you might do," she said. "We have
to get back into Mrs. Jameson's house, check out that room more
closely."
Remington shook his head. "Laura, I don't think Bernice and
Mildred had breaking and entering in mind when they planned a
romantic, candle lit dinner for us."
Laura rose from her chair, refilling her champagne glass before
coming over to him. "Oh, come now, Mr. Steele. Not feeling
up to a bit of excitement this evening?"
"Excitement, yes," he admitted, turning to pull her
into his arms and onto his lap. "But I had another kind of
excitement in mind. Something far less- strenuous," he said,
touching his lips to hers.
"The night's still young, Remington," she reminded him.
"Mrs. Jameson goes to bed early. We could be there and back
before midnight."
He leaned back to look at her. "You're serious about this,
aren't you?"
"If I'm right, then Mrs. Jameson is a murderer. You wouldn't
want her to get away with it, would you?"
"She'll still be there tomorrow," he pointed out. "We
could just- stay here for the evening, and then pay her visit
first thing tomorrow morning," he suggested, kissing her
again.
Laura wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss.
"But I won't be able to give you my -full and -undivided
attention- until I've found out if I'm right,- Remington,"
she told him between kisses. "And if you help me, we'll get
done that much sooner."
"That's blackmail," he said, looking up at her.
"I prefer to think of it as a- promise waiting to be fulfilled."
He shook his head as she rose from her chair, pulling him behind
her. He stopped, drawing her back into his arms. "You won't
back out on this one?" he asked. "Suddenly decide that
it's time to go home?"
Laura smiled up at him, sliding her arms around his neck. "Not
tonight, Remington," she promised solemnly. "Tonight-
Tonight is going to be VERY different." Her kiss was filled
with the promise she'd made- and so much more that Remington felt
a bit overwhelmed by it all.
"Laura," he began, but she stopped him.
"Not now. After we finish at Mrs. Jameson's, then we'll sort
everything out."
*****
In the lobby of the Hilton, Bernice and Mildred came from the
bar in time to see Remington and Laura stop at the desk before
leaving the hotel. "What's going on?" Bernice wondered,
going to the desk clerk, Mildred close behind. "Excuse me.
I was just wondering- was that Remington Steele and Laura Holt
who just left?"
The clerk glanced toward the entrance. "Why, yes, I believe
it was. Did you have a reason for asking, madam?"
"My name is Bernice Simmons. I reserved the penthouse suite
for Mr. Steele earlier. He was supposed to be here all night."
"Oh. Well, his plans evidently changed, Mrs. Simmons. Mr.
Steele just checked out."
"Checked out?" Mildred said, exchanging a worried look
with Bernice.
"I'm afraid so, madam." He held out a piece of paper.
"And here's your bill."
Bernice got out her credit card and gave it to the man. "Something
went wrong," she told Mildred.
"They didn't look as if they'd been fighting," Mildred
pointed out. "In fact, they were both smiling."
"Well, I'm not going to let them walk out on this. It's past
time those two got together."
"I agree, Bernice. But short of locking them in a room together,
I don't see how we can . . ." she stopped as she saw the
speculative look in the younger woman's eyes. "Bernice?"
To Be Continued . . .