After lunch, they took her to see the converted warehouse loft. Jessica wandered around the large room, moving up to the bedroom. "I can't imagine why Remington disliked this place, Laura. It's quite lovely."
"He saw it before the conversion," Laura said. "And the lack of an elevator was another drawback. He HATED to climb those stairs."
"I see," Jessica said, her eyes filled with laughter.
"Well," Abigail questioned, "What do you think?"
"I'll take it. And no quibbling about the price, either."
"Good. I'll draw up the papers this afternoon and bring them to dinner this evening -"
"I'm afraid I won't be there," Jessica said, smiling at Laura's surprise. "I have a dinner engagement."
"Already? With who?"
"Oh, I've no doubt I'll put a few personal touches on the place," Jessica was saying as they entered the agency, "But nothing major. I like it the way it is."
Steele was just putting a folder on Mildred's desk, his jacket off, shirt cuffs folded neatly back. He smiled. "Any luck?"
"Abigail found me lovely place, Remington," Jessica told him, taking his arm. "A loft in a converted warehouse."
His blue eyes narrowed. "Where is this 'lovely' place?" he asked suspiciously. When she gave him the address, he sighed deeply. "Those damned stairs."
Jessica and Laura both laughed. "Don't worry, brother dear. There's a lift in the planning stages for the building. It's only the old freight elevator, but I think it will be more acceptable than the stairs, won't it?" She smiled at him. "I met some of the other residents of the building while we were there. They seemed quite relieved that I'm not a detective, simply a staid, British attorney."
"They would be, I suppose," Steele said. "When do you move in?"
"After I return from England. Laura's signing the papers this evening and I plan to give you my proxy so you can sign them for me."
"This evening?" Steele questioned, looking at Laura.
"Mother's coming to dinner," she told him, watching his reaction.
"Whose idea was this? Hers or yours?"
"Mine. It was the only way to avoid another argument. I thought that one of your gourmet feasts might make her more receptive to one more attempt to explain why she wasn't at least told about our marriage by one of US."
"I must say that I don't envy you that task, Remington. Abigail does seem to be a bit - opinionated?"
"Uh, yes. I take it you won't be there this evening?"
"Didn't I mention it earlier?" Jessica asked, looking around.
"Mention what?"
"That I have a date this evening."
"A business dinner?"
Jessica smiled as the doors opened to admit Mildred and Tony. "Not really, Remington."
"Miss Beecham. Did Laura's mother find you and apartment?"
"She did indeed, Mildred. So I'll be leaving for London tomorrow to tie up some loose ends there, and then will be returning back here." Her smile was disarming, reminding Mildred of Mr. Steele. "Could I trouble you to make a reservation for me?"
"No trouble. Any particular time?"
"In the morning. Open return. I'm not sure how long I'll be away." She glanced at her watch. "Oh, my. I have to be going. Six, Antony?"
"Sure," Tony agreed, then froze as Steele's voice cut through the air.
"Jessica -"
She pretended to ignore him, starting for the door. "Later -"
"NOW, Jessica. In my office."
She turned. "Surely whatever you have to say can wait, Remington."
"I don't think so," he said, extending a hand toward his open door. "After you."
Once the door closed behind them, Mildred shook her head in Tony's direction. "I told you he wouldn't like it."
"That MIGHT be an understatement," Laura observed, pulling her gaze from the closed door to Tony. "Couldn't you have wanted a FEW days before asking Remington's sister out?"
"I didn't ask. SHE did. And what difference does it make? She's old enough to go out with whoever she wants to."
Defiantly, Jessica leaned against Remington's desk, her fingers grasping the edge of it's cool top as she listened to him say, "I know I asked you to see Antony, Jessica - but it's no longer necessary. Laura and I have resolved our differences."
"I'm aware of that."
"Then why are you going out with him?"
"I wish I could tell you that I was doing it to make certain that he doesn't cause any further trouble between the two of you," Jessica said with a sigh. "But I don't want to begin our relationship with a lie. The truth is, I find Antony rather -attractive, in a basic sort of way."
"He's not the right man for you, Jessica-"
"You sound as if I were contemplating marriage, Remington," she said, laughing softly. It's only a DATE."
"I don't want you to go out with him. He's a liar, among other things. I don't fully trust him."
"And you've always been completely honest and trustworthy?" she pointed out. "Look, I appreciate the concern for my welfare, but you're a bit late to start doing the protective big brother, Remington. I'm not a little girl. I'm a grown woman who is more than capable of choosing her own friends. And unless you can accept that, I might have to reconsider my decision to move here." She opened the door and left the room before he could respond. "I'll see you later, Laura."
"Your tickets will be waiting at the airport tomorrow, Miss Beecham. Have a nice trip."
"I intend to, Mildred." She turned to Tony, who was standing by the door. "I'll see YOU at six." Tony looked past her to where Steele stood in the open doorway. Jessica knew that her brother was there, but refused to turn around. "You WON'T stand me up, will you, Antony?"
Seeing the disapproval on Steele's face, Tony knew what he should say, but he found himself replying in the affirmative. "I'll be there."
Jessica smiled and continued through the doors. Steele sighed and returned to his office. Laura gave Tony a questioning glance before following him.
Mildred's attention was caught by the suddenly active printer behind her, and she turned as Tony started toward his own office, deciding that retreat was called for. He only got halfway there when Mildred yelled. "Eureka!!"
"That woman is undoubtedly the most STUBBORN-"
"It's a family trait," Laura commented. "Why does Jessica seeing Tony bother you?"
"She's my sister."
"And a fully grown woman, with a mind of her own." She grinned. "If I had listened to Murphy about you, then we probably wouldn't be here today -" She was rewarded by Steele's grin. "You know, I don't think it's Tony at all. I think ANY man that Jessica dates-"
"Nonsense," Steele insisted, pulling her into his arms to quiet her, as there was a tap on the door before Mildred entered. Steele shook his head but refused to release Laura.
"Sorry, Chief," Mildred said, smiling apologetically for interrupting them. "But, I think I found her."
"Her, Mildred?" Steele questioned, totally lost. He hadn't known Mildred was still looking for anyone.
"Your mother's sister."
Laura spoke. "I thought you were unable to locate any of her family?"
"I couldn't find anyone in Ireland," she clairified. "I went back over things again, and started another check - The results just came in." She consulted the paper. "Katherine O'Hara Morgan."
Steele frowned. "She's my aunt, you say?"
Mildred held out the paper. "It's all here. She's five years older than Megan would have been- ran away from home when she was sixteen to become an actress. She did, too. She was registered with the British Actor's Guild until fifteen years ago when she married Jason Morgan, a London attorney. She also has a police record. No convictions, just suspicion of compliance in several confidence schemes -"
Steele glanced at the report. "She was registered with the Guild as Kitty O'Hara."
Laura watched her husband as he returned the report to Mildred and moved to the window, putting his hands in his pockets, a habit he fell back on whenever he was troubled. "Where is she now, Mildred?"
"That's just it. The trail's gone cold. Her husband died six years ago, and she sold their London house -"
"She might've gone back to Ireland," Laura suggested.
"No, I checked. I think she's still in London. But I've done as much as I can do from here. Anything further will have to be done in London."
"Obviously the woman doesn't want to be found," Steele said suddenly, a note of desperation in his voice. "If Jessica saw the interview about Daniel, then surely Kit-" He paused. "Katherine Morgan did as well-"
"But why should she connect a Los Angeles detective to her sister's son? We could go-"
"And desert our clients again, Laura? I think we've spent too much time out of the country lately as it is-"
"Why not send Tony?" Mildred suggested.
Steele gave her a shocked look. "With Jessica? I don't think-"
Laura kept her eyes on Steele as she said, "Send Tony in here, please, Mildred."
"Sure, Mrs. Steele."
As the receptionist scurried out, Remington met Laura's gaze. "If I asked you to drop this, Laura -"
"Why?" She wanted to know. "Why is the idea of seeing this woman so terrible?"
He had closed into himself again, and Laura frowned as he said, "I won't see her, Laura. Even if Antony finds her, I have no desire to see her." He checked his watch, pausing for a moment. "I promised to meet with Mr. Franklin this afternoon. I'll meet you at home."
"Remington -" Laura began, but he passed Tony on the way out of the office without a word.
"Is the building on fire?" Tony asked.
"How would you like to go to England, Tony?"
Tony's eyes widened.
When Laura entered the apartment, she knew that Remington was there by the mouth watering aromas coming from the kitchen. Jessica same from her room, dressed in a white dinner dress, her dark hair piled atop her hair. "Laura. I thought I heard someone come in."
"You look very nice."
"Thank you. Do you think Antony will approve?"
"Definitely. Have you talked to Remington?"
"No. He was in the kitchen when I arrived, and hasn't come out to my knowledge. Does he really disapprove of my seeing Tony that much?"
"I think his mood is due to something else. Tony will explain later, I'm sure. I'm going to see if I can calm him down."
"Brave the lion in his den, hmmm?" Jessica asked, teasingly.
"Something like that. Care to join me?"
"No, thank you. Seeing me will no doubt only serve to keep him angry. I'll stay here and cower like a proper coward."
He was at the stove, his back to her, when Laura entered the kitchen. Sneaking up behind him, she slid her arms around his waist. "Something smells delicious."
"Duck a'l'orange," he told her, not turning around. "Baby peas with pearl onions, new potatoes in butter sauce, and -chocolate mousse for dessert."
"If you keep cooking like this, I'll have to stop eating or end up as big as a house," she said. Her eyes widened as she realized what he'd said. "Ch-Ch-" she paused, taking a deep breath. "Ch-chocolate mousse? You wouldn't be trying to bribe me, would you?"
He turned then, to look into her face. "Would it work?"
"Tony's leaving for London tomorrow morning."
His expression fell, and he turned back to the stove. "Then there's nothing further to discuss, is there?"
"Yes, there is. I want you to tell me why you're acting this way about a woman you've never met -" The doorbell rang.
"That's probably your mother," Steele pointed out.
"Jessica can let her in. We need to finish this-"
"Nonsense, Laura," he insisted, stirring the peas one more time. "Abigail is OUR guest. It would be bad manners to allow Jessica to entertain her." He took off his apron and left, giving Laura no choice but to follow him.
They found Abigail and Jessica looking at some papers that the younger woman had just signed. "All we need now is Laura's signature on these and the loft is yours," Abigail was saying.
"Hello, Mother."
She accepted a passing kiss from her daughter, the same from Remington. Her gaze moved from him to Jessica. "Now that I see the two of you together, I can see the family resemblance. The eyes-" She had only seen Laura and Remington together once since their hurried wedding, and then only for ten minutes, since the detectives had been en route to meet with a client. She had always felt that they made a lovely couple. "Jessica was kind enough to let me in," she told Laura, implying that Laura should have been there to do that. Laura smiled tauntly, hoping she could make it through the evening. "All the papers need is your signature."
"If you will excuse me, I have to finish getting ready," Jessica said. "Antony should be here any moment, and I'd rather he not have to wait very long. If he does arrive before I return, do TRY to be civil, Remington."
"Where do I sign, Mother?" Laura asked quickly, hoping to draw her mother's attention from Jessica's taunt.
"Here, and here, and- here." She waited for Laura to finish. "All done." After putting the papers into the leather portfolio she'd brought - a gift from Laura upon her getting her license, Abigail's gaze turned back to her daughter and son-in-law. Remington stood beside Laura's chair, his hand on her shoulder.
Seeing that look, Laura knew the inquisition was about to begin, and asked quickly. "Why don't you get Mother something to drink, Darling?"
"Excellent idea. Abigail?"
"I'll have some wine," she said. He was pouring the drinks when the doorbell rang.
"It's probably Tony," she said, almost jumping toward the door. "Tony. Come in."
He stepped inside the room, glancing uncertainly at Steele. "Is Jessica ready?"
"Not quite. Come in and meet my mother," she insisted, dragging him across the room.
Steele had filled Tony in on Laura's mother-and about how Laura reverted to a nervous adolescent whenever the woman was around. "Mother, this is Anthony Roselli. He works at the Agency. Tony, my mother, Abigail Holt."
"Mr. Roselli."
"Mrs. Holt."
"Abigail, please."
"And my friends call me Tony." He glanced up as Steele handed Abigail a glass of wine. "Hello, Steele."
"Antony. I didn't think you owned a suit. I've only ever see you in denims and leather jackets."
"Don't like wearing them," Tony said, running a finger under his collar as if it were choking him. "I thought Jessica might -"
"ANTONY?"
He turned and caught back a whistle of admiration. "Jessica. And I was afraid I might be overdressed."
She shook her head. "You're perfect. We really should be going. Our reservations are for eight -" She held out a light stole.
Tony placed it over her bare shoulders, then opened the door. "We won't be late. Early flight tomorrow." He saw Jessica's confused glance. "I'll explain later," he told her.
"Goodnight, Laura. And do stop frowning, Remington. Enjoy your evening, Abigail."
"You too, Jessica.
Smiling, Jessica slipped her arm through Tony's. "I shall, Abigail. I shall."
The door closed behind the couple, leaving the other three now totally alone.
Laura sprang up from the chair. "I'll go check on dinner-"
Steele pushed her back down. "I'LL do that, dearest," he said. "Won't be a moment, Abigail."
Laura tried to relax, even took a larger than usual drink of wine. It didn't help. "Remington's sister is very nice, isn't she?" Abigail asked, sipping her own drink.
"Very."
"I wasn't aware that he HAD any family. He certainly never mentioned any that I recall."
"He didn't know himself until we were in Ireland. Remington's mother died when he was born, and he was put into foster homes. His father had another child with someone else. Jessica grew up in England with her mother and grandfather, while Remington was passed from one foster home to another, all the while building up a lot of anger towards his missing parent."
"Well, understandably so, Laura. He must have felt deserted, abandoned -"
"Almost ready," Steele announced, returning to sit beside Laura. "What were you talking about?"
"About your childhood," Abigail said. "I had no IDEA, Remington-"
Glancing at Laura, Steele let her know that he was onto her game. "Yes, well - that story can wait until another evening, I think. I was under the impression that this dinner was arranged so that Laura and I might attempt to apologize for not informing you about our marriage personally."
"Remington-" Laura began, not certain she was ready for this.
He placed a hand on hers. Now, darling. Abigail deserves an apology. And an explanation."
Laura took another swig of her drink. She HATED it when he did this sort of thing. Abigail sighed. "I certainly didn't enjoy finding out that my daughter had gotten married by reading the newspaper. And I can't help but be worried by the - suddenness of the entire thing."
"That was MY fault, Abigail. I had a bit of trouble with the immigration department, and, not wanting to trouble Laura, I attempted to resolve it on my own, without much success. On the day I was to be deported, I finally admitted my difficulties to Laura, who offered to help. Seeing no other way to remain in this country, I asked her to marry me."
Abigail's eyes were wide. "You got married just to -"
Remington took Laura's hand in his. "No," he hastened to reassure her. "I planned to marry Laura almost from the first day we met - convincing her of my intentions wasn't easy. So solving my problem merely achieved what I had wanted all along." He saw Laura's look of surprise at his confession, as well as the promise of questions later. "There was just no time to notify anyone except Mildred to act as a witness. Events after that moved so quickly that Laura and I decided to contact you once things had settled down. Neither of us realized that the press would get wind of the marriage and announce it in the paper."
"You're a famous detective, one of the city's most eligible bachelors," Abigail pointed out. "Of course they would see you marrying ANYONE as news - especially your associate."
"Then, am I forgiven?" Remington asked, forcing every bit of charm he could into his smile.
Abigail smiled back, obviously as much a victim of that charm as her daughter. "Of course you are. Is dinner ready? I'm FAMISHED."