Laura didn't bother to knock before entering the bedroom. He was standing at the window, hands in his pockets- just the way he always did whenever he was troubled or disturbed about something. Hearing her enter, he turned his head and smiled.
"I still can't believe you wore that get up to Evergen," he said. "You have no idea the comments you got from prisoners. And that little act in the laundry-"
"Who said it was an act?" Laura asked, moving across the room to join him, sliding her hand up his shirt to rest on his chest.
Remington took her hand in his to stare at the ring on her finger. "I'd planned to give this to you on Friday night- God, was that only five days ago? It seems like I was gone for five years," he confessed, pulling her into his arms and pressing a kiss onto her lips- a kiss that Laura eagerly returned. When it ended, he held her as close as possible, resting his chin on the top of her head to draw a deep, shuddering breath. At last he looked down into her face. "I was so afraid that I'd never see you again. That you would think that I'd just- up and left the way I did last time."
Laura shook her head, blinking back the tears. "Never. Not again. When Jarvis came here and told me they'd found your car-"
Remington pulled her close again, kissing away her tears. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here. I'm safe. Thanks to you. I knew if anyone could find me, it would be you."
She looked up at him. "I wouldn't have if Daniel hadn't given me a starting point," she told him.
"I have that to thank him for, then, at any rate," he said.
"Remington-"
He shook his head, breaking away from her to put the room between them. "Don't, Laura. Don't try to defend what he did. Twenty years- twenty *years* he was right here, by my side, and he never said *one* bloody word."
"How could he? The way he described you when he found you, you would have run as fast and as far away from him as you could have if he'd told you then. He's spent fourteen years trying to *find* you. Can you blame him for not wanting to lose you again?"
"Laura, right now, I can't think about it. It's all too new- I'm hungry, I'm exhausted. I need sleep- I need you," he finished, standing there watching her. "Does your wearing that mean what I think - what I *hope* it means?" he asked, indicating her hand.
"And just what do you hope it means, Mr. Steele?" Laura asked, moving across the room toward him again.
He smiled. "And here I was just getting used to hearing you finally use the name Remington," he sighed regretfully, pulling her into his arms. "Now answer my question, Miss Holt. Yes, or no?"
Laura smiled. "Yes."
"Even though you're no longer becoming engaged to a dead man?" he teased.
She slid her arms around his neck. "That should make it all the more interesting."
Remington moved slightly back to look at her. "Why, Laura, is that a lascivious gleam in your lovely eyes?"
"If you have to ask-"
He started to give her another kiss, then sniffed the air. "I think something's burning."
Laura tore out of his arms. "Dinner!" she cried, and he followed her into the kitchen, moving her out of the way as he tried to salvage the meal. "Daniel started it- Mildred was supposed to be finishing it," she explained. "I guess we forgot about it."
"I don't think it's too bad," he told her, examining contents of the pans. "Looks like Mildred turned everything down before she left. Speaking of Mildred-"
"I- sent her to keep an eye on Daniel," Laura said.
"I don't think he'll do anything foolish, Laura," Remington told her.
"I meant so that he wouldn't leave town before this is resolved," she clarified.
Remington ignored her comment and went to get some plates from the cabinet and some silver from the drawer. "Set the table, will you? I'll get some wine." When Laura stood there, looking at him, he set the plates on the counter and put his hands on her shoulders. "Laura, this is between Daniel and I, okay? No amount of pushing or coercion is going to work." He dropped a quick kiss onto her lips. "Now set the table. I'm starving. Jenks rations aren't exactly cordon bleu."
She nodded once, then picked up the plates and went out into the dining room. Remington found a bottle of wine, and opened it, pouring two glasses before tasting one of them. Then, he deftly dished up what was edible from the meal that Daniel had been preparing, pushing memories of those early days to the back of his mind to deal with later. Laura returned, and picked up her glass as she carried one of the bowls back out. "You have a match for the candles?" she asked when he entered the dining room with a serving platter.
"There's a box in the drawer beside the range," he told her. She returned with the bottle of wine and the matches. He lit the white tapers, shaking out the match. "There. Perfection." Pulling out her chair, he waited for her to sit down, then moved around to the other side of the table. "Now, tell me about this funeral."
Laura picked up her fork. "I will- if you'll tell me how you managed to amass an almost six figure income from the Agency's budget . . ."
***
Mildred watched as Daniel started for the elevators, then ducked behind a post as he turned toward the hotel bar instead. Good, she thought, continuing to the elevators, glancing back occasionally to see him sit down at the bar. She took the elevator up to the second floor and used her lock picks to get into Daniel's room. It took her longer than it should have done, though, and about the time it opened, she heard elevator opening again.
Ducking into the room, she stayed where she was, pressed against the closed door, trying to calm down. As much as she wanted to get her license, she wasn't cut out for this. Too risky.
It was a small hotel room, not the suite she'd imagined it would be, and she went to the suitcase sitting on the floor at the end of the bed to lift the lid. It was empty. She felt under the edges of the mattress, then realized that a maid would have found them if Daniel had hidden his passports there. She opened the drawer of the nightstand and searched it thoroughly before moving on to the dresser. Buried under the clean shirts that were starting to show signs of wear, were the passports. "Eureka!" Mildred cried softly and slipped them into her purse as she heard the key in the door. Looking around, she ran into the bathroom.
Daniel tossed his room key onto the bed and opened the suitcase. No sense in hanging about. He wouldn't be needed at the trial. Laura, Murphy and Jenks were enough to convict Gardner. He'd only been planning on staying around to offer moral support to Harry. But if Harry wouldn't even see him, there was no need in his being here.
He opened the dresser and gathered his clothing, carrying it over to place it into the suitcase. Something was missing, however. Going back to the drawer, he pulled the remaining items out and examined the bottom of the drawer with his hand. His passports were gone.
Had a maid found them while snooping, he wondered. Or perhaps that Lt. Jarvis had been suspicious about Remington Steele's father. No matter. It would delay his departure a bit, but he knew where to go to get another passport. They were all forgeries anyway. All except one, that is. He decided to finish packing and take his case along when he tracked down Weasel. With that in mind, he went into the bathroom to gather his toiletries.
He was turning back toward the bedroom when there was a sound that came from the bathtub. Cautiously, he freed a hand and reached out to draw the heavy plastic curtain back. Mildred gave him a nervous smile. "Hello, Daniel," she said.
"Mildred!" he exclaimed, helping her out of the tub. "What on earth are you doing here?" he asked.
"Miss Holt send me over," she said. "You weren't here-"
"She didn't by any chance tell you to find my passports so I couldn't leave town, did she?" he asked as he led her back out into the bedroom, noticing that she kept a tight hold on her purse.
"Yeah," Mildred finally admitted. "She did. She thought you might try to-" seeing his suitcase almost packed on the bed, she shook her head and sighed. "Oh, Daniel. Leaving isn't going to solve the problem."
"Give me one good reason to stay, Mildred."
"Mr. Steele. You son, remember? He needs you-"
"Right now, Laura and you are all Harry needs, Mildred," Daniel said sadly. "He doesn't want to see me."
"He'll change his mind, once he has chance to think about things. You said so yourself."
"He'll find me when he's ready to talk," Daniel told her, returning to the bathroom to get the rest of his things.
"What about the trial?" Mildred asked. "You'll have to testify."
"I think the District Attorney will have enough with Jenks' testimony, as well as Laura and Murphy's," he told her, closing the suitcase. He held out his hand. "My passports?"
Mildred shook her head, keeping her purse out of reach. "No. You're staying here and facing this, Daniel. I don't know why you abandoned him as a child, but you're not going to do it again."
"I didn't abandon him, Mildred," Daniel told her. "I had no choice. By the time I found out that his mother was pregnant, I was in prison, serving two years for attempted armed robbery. By the time I was released, Harry was so lost in that damned system that I don't think anyone could have found him. It was pure, unadulterated luck that I found him in Brixton."
"Did you tell him this?"
"He wouldn't listen," Daniel told her. "I'd always put off telling him because I knew I'd lose him. I was right."
"Oh, you haven't lost him, Daniel," Mildred said. "He'll come around, once Miss Holt talks to him. Give him a few days."
Daniel sighed as he looked at her. "All right. I'll give him until the weekend."
"Next Wednesday," Mildred said.
"Saturday," Daniel countered.
"Monday."
"Monday it is."
Mildred smiled and held out her hand to him. "Promise?"
"Promise," he agreed. He hadn't really felt like tracking Weasel down at this hour of the night, anyway.
"Why don't we go get something to eat?" Mildred suggested.
"And my passports?" Daniel asked.
She patted her purse. "I think they're safer here."
His smile was rueful. "Still don't trust me?"
"Oh, *I* trust you. But I have to answer to Miss Holt. And I don't think she does."
"Fair enough," he agreed, grabbing his key from the bed and offering his arm. "Shall we go?"
***
Laura sipped her wine as she gazed into the fire. Her other hand was lightly caressing the dark hair on the head in her lap as Remington slept. He's fallen asleep in the middle of a sentence, the lids on his blue eyes fluttering downward until his breathing became regular. She finished the wine, and placed her other hand on his chest, sliding her fingers inside the mostly unbuttoned shirt to tangle in the thick hair of his chest.
His head moved slightly and he began muttering something unintelligible. But even without hearing it, Laura could tell that he was having a nightmare. The words began to coalesce as he moved toward wakefulness. "Get away," he said. "Don't-" Suddenly his entire body jerked, and his eyes opened. He blinked, and Laura thought he was trying to focus in on her face.
"It's okay," she whispered. "You're safe."
He grasped her hand and held it tightly. "I fell asleep?" She nodded. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay. You've been through a lot in the last five days."
"So have you," he reminded her. "Did I thank you for getting me out of that place?"
She smiled at him. "At least ten times over dinner. And five more after me came in here."
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I guess this time it really *was* someone out of my dark and murky past, eh?"
"But he was after you for having done the *right* thing," she pointed out. "Something Remington Steele might have done. Not stealing a priceless painting or dagger."
"I should have listened to Daniel back then," he sighed, his gaze on the fire now as he sat up and picked up his glass of wine from where Laura had placed it earlier. "He told me not to get involved with James."
"Why didn't you listen?"
"I thought I knew everything. I was twenty years old and ready to go out and conquer the world. Instead, I made a rookie mistake in picking a partner that I knew absolutely nothing about. To this day I believe that if the police hadn't arrived when they did, James would have killed me the same way he killed that girl."
Laura ran her fingers through his hair. "And Daniel was there for you afterward," she reminded him, earning herself a look that told her that she was pushing her luck.
"Yes, he was. I don't know how he found out I was in jail, but he bailed me out and stood by me during the trial. Then he practically pushed me back out of the nest to try my wings again," he recalled with a fond smile.
"Because he cared about you," Laura told him.
Remington looked at her. "Why are you suddenly such a big booster of Daniel Chalmers, eh? Before this happened, he was just a nuisance. Someone you tolerated because he was an old friend of mine. Does his being my father really make that much difference?"
"Yes. It does."
"Damn it, Laura-"
"Okay. Okay, I'll drop it. After I say one thing. If *my* father came back after all these years, I'd at least give him the courtesy of explaining why he left." She rose from the floor- not an easy matter considering the short shirt she was still wearing. "I need some more wine."
Remington sat back, enjoying the view as he mulled her words. "There's a robe hanging on the bathroom door if you'd like to change out of that out fit," he told her, holding up his glass.
She smiled at him. "Why don't *you* get the wine?" she suggested. "While I slip into something more comfortable, then?"
"Sounds promising," he told her, taking her glass and watching her wiggled her hips as she moved toward the bedroom. "Looks promising, too," he added, only to have her grab a pillow from the sofa and toss it at his grinning face. He managed to duck- barely. The door closed behind her. "I'll get the wine."
He was returning from the kitchen when the bedroom door opened and Laura reappeared- wearing his black silk robe- and very likely nothing beneath it, Remington decided, watching the way the supple fabric moved against her skin as she met him before the fire once more.
Remington held out her glass, and watched as she took it from him to toss the entire contents back at one time. "Enough of the preliminaries," she said, putting the glass onto the coffee table, and taking his as well. "It's time to get down to the serious stuff."
"Serious stuff, hmm?" Remington questioned, his arms going around her as she slid hers around his neck. "Are you sure, Laura? No changing your mind this time?"
"Very sure," she told him, placing a kiss onto his chin. "Losing you- thinking that I'd lost you- made me realize how foolish I've been all these years. It's time." Her lips found his, opening to him like a flower coming into full bloom. When it ended, she took his hand and led him toward the bedroom . . .
***
Remington woke with a start in the darkened room and looked around, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. He was in his bed- Laura was curled up against him as though she'd always been there. He was safe. Another nightmare. And he couldn't remember what this one was about anymore than he had the last one earlier in the evening. Carefully, so not to wake Laura, he slid out of bed, grabbing up his robe as he went into the living room to retrieve his glass of wine.
The rain that had been threatening earlier had finally arrived, sending sheets over water over the glass to the balcony. Lightening lit the sky with an eerie brilliance that faded almost as quickly as it came. Perhaps that had been what had awakened him, not a nightmare, he told himself, sipping the wine as he stood at the window, watching nature vent itself on the world.
He felt a hand on his back and turned to find Laura, now wearing his discarded shirt, the cuffs rolled back to her elbows. "I woke up and- you weren't there," she said.
Remington placed an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. "I'm sorry. I tried not to wake you up. I couldn't sleep-"
"Another nightmare?" Laura asked, looking up at him.
"Either that or the storm," he said, nodding toward the window. "I was only there four days, Laura. And one of those I don't even remember. Most of those men had been there for years, and they weren't having nightmares-"
"Maybe they were," she suggested. "But they'd been there for so long, they couldn't tell the difference between nightmare and reality. If you're having problems readjusting, I'm sure a counselor-"
"No, thank you. I can just see the headlines. 'World famous detective needs shrink.' What kind of PR would that get us?" He shook his head again. "I'll be okay. It's still all so fresh in my mind. And- seeing James again brought back all of that from fifteen years ago. I'd managed to put it behind me-"
"You will again," Laura assured him. "Because that's where it belongs. Behind you. In the past."
"Is this the same woman who once wanted to know every little detail of that past?" he questioned, running his thumb across her lips.
Now Laura shook her head. "Not anymore. Not unless it's something you want to tell me."
"Right now, the only thing I want to do is to go back in there to that bed- with you."
"I think we can arrange that, -Mr. Steele," she told him, and her dimples appeared with her smile.
"Oh, you'll pay for that," he threatened as she laughingly whirled out of his arms and into the bed room.
Remington followed, scooping her up and tossing her onto the bed before joining her there, silencing her laughter with a kiss.
***
Remington's arrival at police headquarters was met by a crowd of representatives from the media. He told them that he would give a statement later as he, Laura and Mildred pushed through them. "Sorry about that," Jarvis said. "The British press broke the story when Scotland Yard arrested Gardner. And then a stringer here sent the word out locally."
"I didn't expect that my 'return from the dead' would merit no notice, Jarvis," Remington assured the detective. "It's okay."
"Any word on when we can expect Gardner here in LA, Jimmy?" Laura asked.
"I'd say Monday at the latest, Miss Holt," he said. "I spoke to someone at Scotland Yard a little while ago. Chief Inspector Lombard? He said he knew you both."
"Ah, yes," Steele recalled. "He was quite helpful in that matter concerning the Earl of Claridge, wasn't he, Laura?"
"Very helpful," Laura agreed.
"Anyway, he said that they were expediting the paperwork as much as they could. But apparently England's red tape is worse than ours." He sat on the edge of the desk. "Now, Mr. Steele, suppose we start at the beginning of all this-"
Remington shifted uncomfortably. "The- beginning, Jarvis?"
"Last Friday evening. What happened?"
"Well, I started back from Bakersfield and stopped at a gas station about an hour out of LA . . ."
***
The press were still there when they came out, but Remington continued to wave them off with the promise of a statement later. "Mildred," he told the receptionist once they were in the limo, "Can you come up with something that will satisfy those sharks?"
"Don't worry, Chief," she said, smiling. "Consider it done."
"I knew I could count on you," he said.
Laura looked around Remington. "I didn't ask earlier, Mildred- how did it go with Daniel last night?"
"You were right- he did try to leave," Mildred confirmed as Remington picked up a newspaper and pretended an intense interest in the previous day's events.
"I knew it. Did you get his passports?"
Mildred pulled them from her purse. "They're right here," she confirmed, waving them under Remington's nose.
"Please, ladies," Remington sighed. "Can't you see that I'm attempting to catch up on current events? And I can't believe Daniel just let you take his passports, Mildred."
"He didn't. I- got into his room when he wasn't there and took them."
"That won't stop Daniel," Remington told them.
"It won't?" Laura questioned.
He shook his head. "Too many places in Los Angeles where he can go to get another. I can name you six off the top of my head."
"Really?" Laura asked, giving him a curious look.
"Not that I've ever used any of them," he said quickly. "But it pays to know these things-"
"Of course it does."
"I don't think you have to worry about it anyway," Mildred told them. "Cause Daniel promised me that he'd stay at least until Monday- in case you decided to-"
Remington cleared his throat and lifted the paper again, popping it as he prepared to tackle a story about the funeral- but he felt two sets of eyes on him, and looked up, first at Mildred, and then at Laura. Sighing, he folded the paper. "I'm not going to get a moment's peace until I talk to him, am I?"
"No," Laura said.
"Where's he staying?"
"The Belvedere," Laura told him.
"Fred, the Belvedere Hotel. And no hurry."
"Hurry, Fred," Laura said, then sat back. "You can read your paper now."
"Somehow, I don't have the heart for it," he sighed, but picked it up anyway. "Did Murphy really say all of this at the funeral?" he asked a moment later.
"Oh, you would have loved it, Boss," Mildred told him. "Not a dry eye in the house- even his. And the people that were there. The Mayor, the Governor- the Chief of Police."
"Well, after all," Remington reminded her as Laura rolled her eyes. "I *am* Remington Steele." He winked at Mildred as Laura shook her head.
"There won't be any living with him now, Mildred," she sighed.
The limo pulled into the drive of the Belvedere and Fred brought it to a stop before the front doors. A valet opened the door for them.
They went through the lobby and entered the elevators. Once she pressed the button for the second floor, Laura brushed a speck of lint from his jacket and straightened his tie. "Stop fussing, Laura," he told her. "It's only Daniel." The doors opened.
"Room 206," Laura told him. "Just down the corridor."
Remington stepped off of the elevator and stopped. "Aren't you two coming with me?"
"I think you and Daniel need to see each other alone," Laura told him, smoothing his lapel when he moved closer. He batted her hand away. "We'll be waiting down in the lobby."
Laura kept the doors open until he was in front of Daniel's door. As she and Mildred watched, he shined his shoes on the backs of his trouser legs, and then knocked. Laura released the door, giving Mildred a thumbs up sign.
As he watched the elevator doors close, Remington tugged nervously at his ear. When the door opened, Daniel stood there, obviously surprised to see him. "Harry."
"Laura and Mildred seem to think we need to talk," Remington said.
Daniel stepped back, opening the door wider to let him into the room . . .
To Be Continued---
