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Laura walked Jimmy Jarvis to the outer
doors, then returned to the main office to find Harry standing
at the windows again, hands stuffed into his pockets, staring
into nothing. She came to slip her arm through his. "You're
brooding again."
"I beg your pardon?"
"It's a bit like a scowl, but deeper," she explained,
pleased when he gave her that little half smile and covered her
hand with his. "What's wrong? Still worried about Tony?"
"I don't trust him, Laura." When she would have spoken,
he lifted his hand. "I know you do - and you're normally
a very good judge of character. And I don't know how much my doubts
about him are coloured by my jealousy-."
She smiled. "Well, you could always beat him up again like
you did in Ireland," she suggested in a conversational tone.
He went still, then looked down at her, his blue eyes guarded.
"How did you find out about that?"
"I overheard a couple of the maids discussing it a few days
later. They were both quite taken with you, your Lordship. I think
they were a little disappointed that you were - unavailable."
"What did they say? About the fight, I mean?" he clarified.
"Oh, that you and Tony tried to beat each other's brains
out - and that you appeared to be winning before the fight ended
when that bomb went off."
"I finally had all I could stand of that smug son of a -"
Laura's glance brought him up short. "I suppose I'd better
call Estelle and see if she can dig anything up on who might have
sponsored du Mont into the country," he decided, changing
the subject.
"You might suggest she try under Phillipe du Pres as well,"
Laura suggested. "If du Mont was wanted by Interpol, he probably
wouldn't have used his real name."
He sat down and dialed Estelle Becker's office. "You're right."
He frowned as she started toward her office. "Where are you
going?"
"To get some things taken care of. I'll be right back."
As the connecting door closed, Estelle came on the line. "Ah,
Estelle. Remington Steele." He picked up a paper clip that
was lying on his desk. "I have a favor to ask -" He
smiled at her response.
**********
Max Grumby's beady eyes narrowed into dark slits as he watched
Tony Roselli. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about,
Roselli."
"Come on, Max. They know that you're behind this. They've
traced your involvement with Craig Malcolm - now all they're waiting
for is something to tie you to Robert du Mont."
"Well they won't find anything," Grumby said. "Because
there isn't one."
Tony shook his head. "Wrong answer, Max." He fingered
the folder of clipping and notes about the Steeles -the same one
that Laura had seen in du Mont's room -that he'd found on the
desk and rose to his feet in a slow movement.
"Look, Roselli. You think I'm gonna stand here and admit
to anything to *you*? You think I haven't done my homework on
the Steeles? And guess who's name came up in that report since
their honeymoon in Mexico?"
"I admit that I know them-" Tony said, pretending an
interest in the faded photos on the wall.
Grumby's snort of laughter made Tony turn to look at him. "Know
them? You've been sniffing around after Laura Holt Steele since
you met her."
"Which is exactly why I'm the one person you *can* trust,
Max," Tony insisted. When Max gave him a look of patent disbelief,
Tony sighed. "Look. We both want the same thing. Steele gone,
and the agency closed down. I can help you do that- *if* you make
sure Laura's cleared of that murder charge."
"Won't come to anything anyway. Too many cops on the force
don't want to pursue the case. Lt. Jarvis has it buried so deep
that it won't ever see the light of day. They all think she's
a hero," he spat the word. "No one wants to be the one
who arrests her for murder -"
"It's a sloppy frame at that. Wouldn't stick in a court of
law."
"Sloppy?" Grumby questioned, frowning.
"Sloppy. Those two could have figured this out with both
hands tied. Get her in the clear, Max, and then we'll get to work."
"I can't frame Steele-"
"Find someone else- I'm sure you can manage something, Max."
"And then? What happens after I clear Mrs. Steele?"
"Mrs. Steele," Tony mused. "Then, we stop that
wedding - "
"How? And what difference is that gonna make?"
"Because I happen to know a few things about their *first*
wedding that Immigration would be *very* interested in hearing.
Something that will get Steele sent back to England on the first
boat out - and leave Laura without an agency to run, and probably
no license, either."
Grumby looked at the man. "And she thinks you're in love
with her?" he questioned.
"I don't need your comments, Max," Tony ground out.
"I just want your agreement. I don't care what happens to
Steele. Just clear Laura. You've got forty eight hours - "
"And what if they find something to tie me to du Mont in
the meantime?"
"I'll see what I can do, Max," Tony promised. He placed
a hand on the doorknob.
"Where are you staying?"
Tony shook his head. "Uh-uh. Your partners have a nasty habit
of turning up dead, Max. I'll be in touch."
"And what if I decide to tell the Steeles about your visit?"
Grumby asked- only to find himself pushed back against the wall,
Tony's arm against his throat, crushing his windpipe.
"I wouldn't, Max. Not if you know what's good for you. Not
if you don't want to end up the way your friend Malcolm did- with
a bullet to the brain." Tony pushed off, leaving the office
as Grumby lifted a shaking hand to his throat, thinking that Laura
Holt Steele just might be better off in prison than with Tony
Roselli.
**********
"Did she say how long it might take to trace it down?"
Laura asked as Remington joined her and Mildred in the reception
area.
"She wasn't sure. She'll call when she finds something,"
he assured her. "Any news from Jarvis on those prints, Mildred?"
"Nothing yet, Chief," the receptionist told him. "You
two had better get a move on if you're not going to be late."
Laura and Remington looked at each other, then at Mildred. "Late?"
Remington questioned.
"Late for what?" Laura asked.
"You two are supposed to have dinner in Tarzana with Frances
and Donald," she reminded them, watching as Laura closed
her eyes in frustration. "It's been on the schedule for a
week, Mrs. Steele. And you told me to remind you -"
"I know." She looked up at Remington. "I don't
suppose we could cancel?"
"I don't think so. Come on. It will do us good to forget
about all of this for the evening and relax."
"Relax?" Laura repeated as he went into her office and
retrieved her handbag and hat. "With the kids asking twenty
questions and -"
"Your sister's children are delightful, Laura," he told
her. "I don't understand why you have such a problem with
them." He grinned at Mildred, returning her wave as he and
Laura turned the corner toward the elevators.
"I guess they're not really so bad," Laura admitted
as the doors opened. "I'm just- not good with kids, I guess."
"Really?" he teased. "I hadn't noticed." Something
else to file away, Remington decided. At least there was only
one topic left now that he'd asked about Antony and Ireland.
Laura playfully punched his arm, only to have Remington capture
her hand and hold onto it as they moved toward the limo where
Fred was waiting. "Good evening, Fred," she said.
"Mrs. Steele. Where to, Mr. Steele?" he asked.
"Home, Fred. And we're dining in Tarzana this evening-"
"Dr and Mrs. Piper's?" Fred asked.
"Yes."
"I'll be waiting, sir."
"Good man, Fred," Remington said, sitting back as the
door closed. "Need to think about giving that man a raise,"
he murmured to Laura.
"He already makes enough to retire early as it is,"
Laura reminded him in a low voice as well.
Once they were in the apartment, Laura kicked off her shoes as
usual and fell back onto the sofa. "Are you *certain* we
can't call Frances and Donald and tell them that we're too busy,
or -"
"Laura, I'm sure that Frances wants to discuss wedding plans
with you - "
"Oh *wonderful*," she groaned as he pulled her to her
feet and toward the bedroom. "She was just telling me today
how excited Donald is to be walking me down the aisle- "
In the room, she turned and slid her arms around his neck, "Are
you sure I can't convince you that staying here, just a quiet
evening in front of the fire would be more enjoyable?"
He bent to kiss her lips in a lingering caress, then smiled softly.
"Oh, I know it would be. But we promised to be there, Laura,"
he reminded her. "And she *is* your sister- as well as your
matron of honor - "
"I think sometimes that Frances and Donald should be the
ones doing this instead of us. She seems to be enjoying it more
than I am." Laura realized she wasn't going to change his
mind and began removing her clothes. "I'm going to take a
shower -" she said, pausing in the bathroom doorway to look
back at him over her shoulder. "Care to join me? Just to
conserve water," she explained.
Remington, in the middle of removing his cufflinks, paused to
look at her. "Water conservation, eh? Very good idea, Mrs.
Steele. One of which I heartily approve," he said, tossing
his shirt onto the bed as he moved to follow her.
**********
Laura was relieved, upon her arrival at the Piper house, to find
that her nieces and nephew were spending the night at their friends',
leaving the adults to dine by candlelight in Frances' formal dining
room with the "good china" and silver. "What was
Mother going to be doing tonight?" Laura asked, looking around
as if she half expected the woman to appear from the next room.
"Resting," Frances explained. "I insisted. She's
been on the go constantly, planning the wedding, and I thought
she needed to spend the evening at home with a good book and bottle
of wine." She placed a hand over Laura's. "Don't worry.
She won't be here."
"I wasn't worried-" Laura began, only to stop as Frances,
Donald, *and* Remington stared at her. "Alright. Maybe I
was. I love Mother, Frances, but sometimes she can be so-"
"Overpowering," Frances supplied. "Don't I know
it. I don't know how Donald manages to keep from telling her off
sometimes," she said, smiling at her husband. "I have
to check on dinner," she apologized. "Would you- care
to come with me, Laura?" she asked.
"I don't-" she caught sight of something in her sister's
eye and glanced to where Donald was sitting. "I'd love to,
Frances," she said. "I'll be right back," she told
Remington.
"Take your time," he said, accepting a glass of bourbon
from Donald. "It never ceases to amaze me that those two
are sisters," was his comment.
"I've known them for over fifteen years," Donald pointed
out. "And I still find it hard to believe. Frances is so
down to earth- traditional. Laura- Laura's *never* been a traditionalist.
She's one of a kind, Remington. But I think you know that."
"Oh, yes, Donald. I'm fully aware of how rare and special
Laura is. Like a fine wine or a painting by an old master - or
a perfectly cut diamond. Or the key to one's heart."
"You are a lucky man."
"Never realized how lucky until I met her. Even if it does
mean having to put up with Abigail."
Donald grinned. "Abigail's not so bad once you realize that
she's the immovable force and you're not going to stop her anymore
than you can stop the tide. Just have to learn to go with the
currents. And always leave your options open."
"I'll try to remember that," Remington assured him.
After all, he reasoned, he'd had a lifetime of learning to adjust
his life around things.
**********
"I told Mother no more guests, Laura," Frances said
as they carried the serving dishes to the table. "She wasn't
happy about it, but I think she listened."
Laura chewed on her lower lip as she straightened the silver beside
a light blue china plate with gold trim and red flowers. "About
that, Frances, there *will* be one more guest -"
Frances turned to stare at her sister. "What? You said -"
"I know. But a - friend arrived from Europe - and I invited
him to the wedding - it's not even certain that he'll be there
-"
"Mother's going to have a fit - but I'll handle it."
"Thank you. I hoped that with finding out about Daddy - about
why he left, things would be easier between us. But- All she seems
to think about is that once the wedding's done, I'll stop working
and start having babies-"
Frances smiled, patting her on the shoulder. "Don't knock
it til you've tried it, Laura," she said. "It's not
so bad. And just because you have kids doesn't mean that you have
to give up your career." Seeing Laura's surprised face, Frances
laughed softly. "You're not the type who would be happy staying
at home all day baking cookies and attending PTA meetings, Laura.
I know that. There are lots of kids whose mothers work and still
have plenty of time to -"
"But their mothers aren't private detectives," Laura
said. "I can just see having to have someone pick the kid
up from school because I'm on a stake out, or chasing a murderer
-"
"I'm sure you could find someone- what about Mildred? I'm
sure she would be delighted to help out - or a nanny, even -"
"A nanny?" Laura questioned. It was an idea that had
never occurred to her. "I'm sure Harry would never agree
-" she stopped as Frances stared.
"Harry?"
*Oops*, Laura thought. "It's his middle name. Harrison, actually.
His father called him "Harry", and I never really liked
the name Remington -" she explained brokenly. "So -
I just picked up the nickname. I'm the only one he'll let call
him that- he prefers Remington -"
"Oh. I'd no idea that he even *had* a middle name. I'd never
heard it before." She placed the last dish on the table.
"There. Would you mind calling Donald and Remington?"
As she turned away, Laura took a deep breath, and went to the
living room. "So you think it's a good investment?"
Donald was asking as she appeared in the doorway.
"I think so," Remington answered as he looked up and
saw Laura. He smiled.
"Dinner's ready."
**********
During the drive home, Laura was quiet, and Remington began to
wonder if she was upset by his offering Donald his opinion about
an investment opportunity. As they entered the apartment, he set
all the locks on the door, then loosened his tie before joining
Laura on the patio. "What's wrong?"
"Who says anything's wrong?" she asked, staring out
over the lights of the city.
He lifted her chin with a long finger. "Your face, for one
thing. And you've been quiet since we left Tarzana. If it's about
the investment -"
"The- No. I know you wouldn't steer Donald into anything
shady - "
"Then what is it?" he asked again, concerned now. Perhaps
it was simply pre-wedding jitters finally catching up to her.
"Just something Frances said tonight. About children - and
careers -"
"Children?" he repeated.
Laura looked up at him, uncertain of what she heard in his voice.
"I know we've never discussed it - having a family - But
I think we *should*, don't you?"
"Yes," he agreed softly. "I do. As a matter of
fact, I've been trying to decide to bring the subject up -"
"You have?"
He nodded. "Do you want a family, Laura? Children?"
"Do you?" she countered.
"I asked you first," he returned, refusing to force
him to take the lead in this.
"I think I'd - like to have a couple of kids," she admitted.
"That's such a big house- Five bedrooms, not including the
master bedroom - And the grounds are big enough that they'll have
a place to play -"
"You don't have to convince me, Laura," Remington told
her, wrapping his arms around her. "I've been dreaming about
a little girl with your smile and eyes -"
"Then - you want a family, too?"
"More than anything. Oh, I'm not saying that the idea doesn't
scare the wits out of me- but it just seems so- right when I think
about it."
"What about - the agency?" she questioned. "I can't
just-"
"And I wouldn't suggest such a thing. We'd find some way-"
Laura laughed softly. "Frances suggested hiring a nanny -
I told her you'd hate the idea-"
"On the contrary. It might not be a bad idea at that. Something
to consider when the time comes. Unless- you're saying that you
want to start a family right away - Not that I'd be adverse to
that idea - "
"I've only just realized I *want* children," Laura insisted.
"Give me some time to get used to that idea first, okay?"
"Okay," he said, resting his chin on the top of her
head, closing his eyes in a silent prayer of thanks. "Let's
go to bed. It's late, and I want to call Estelle first thing tomorrow
and see what she's found."
Laura nodded and went through the doorway, waiting for him to
close and lock the sliding glass door before taking his hand and
pulling him toward the bedroom.
**********
Downtown, Officer Davis was making his rounds, shining the spotlight
on his patrol car into those dark hiding places where the dregs
of society seemed to curl up. Seeing a figure against the wall,
he got out of his car and moved toward the entrance of the short
alley way. "Come out here where I can see you," he told
the man, remaining out of the spotlight's beam. The man didn't
react. As he moved closer, Davis reached down to loosen the flap
on his holster, just in case. "Stand up." Still nothing.
His hand on his weapon, Davis knelt next to the man and touched
his arm. Cold. And there was no pulse.An empty hypodermic needle
was in his left hand, a rubber strap tied around his right bicep.
Drug overdose, he decided, calling in on his portable radio for
a coroner's wagon. Probably a bad batch to have killed him so
quickly. As he straightened, something glittered in the dead man's
right hand. A ring. Davis carefully picked it up, inspecting it
as closely as possible in the light. A man's gold signet ring.
Probably stolen. Curiosity sent him to the man's shirt pocket,
where he pulled out a slip of paper. A pawn ticket. One wristwatch,
gold, European manufacturer - initials RdM inscribed - he read,
then looked up. "RdM?" Davis said aloud as the sound
of the coroner's men arriving reached him.
Moving to his car, he pulled out his penlight and inspected the
ring. Inside were the same initials. Picking up the radio, he
said, "This is Unit 168. I need to speak to Lt. Jarvis. It's
an emergency."
To Be Continued . . .