 | ||||||||||
 |  | |||||||||
 |  |  |  |  |  |  |  | |||
| ||||||||||
| | |||||||||
| | | | | | | | |||
Remington unlocked the door of the
apartment. "Laura?" he called. When there was no response,
he sat down on the sofa, head back against the cushions. Slowly,
the sound of water running forced its way into his consciousness,
and he lifted his head to focus his eyes on Laura's jacket that
was laying on the chair. She was home. He rose from the sofa slowly,
considering what he was going to say as the shower cut off leaving
him to listen to the sound of his own heart beating.
Going to the bedroom door, he watched her as she came from the
bath wrapped in a towel. "Thank God," he said softly,
causing Laura's shoulders to stiffen as she heard him. He winced
at the movement, knowing that she wasn't going to forgive him
easily. "Laura?"
She didn't even look at him. She went to the dresser, then to
the closet, then back to the bathroom, closing the door with more
force than necessary. Inside, she leaned against the wood, biting
her lower lip, willing her anger to remain, not to fade away as
it usually did whenever he spoke in that soft, repentant tone.
If she let him get away with this without paying the penalty -
her lips curved into a small smile. He was going to pay- and pay
dearly before she forgave him.
Remington tilted his head to one side, then turned and went to
the kitchen to find something for dinner, stopping to pour himself
a glass of whiskey on the way. Right now, he needed something
to fortify himself. Between Laura's finding out the truth and
Max Grumby's death, it had been one hell of an afternoon.
**********
She was sitting on the carpet before the fireplace when he noticed
her. "Dinner should be ready in a few minutes," he said
quietly, coming to sit next to her - but not touching her. At
least she hadn't insisted that she wasn't hungry as she usually
did when she was upset, he thought, lifting his glass. "Do
you want a drink?" She shook her head, still looking into
the flickering flames behind the glass. "I know you've no
reason to believe me, Laura, but- I'm sorry -"
"For what?" Laura asked. She could sense his confusion.
"I mean, are you sorry about lying to me all this time? Or
are you sorry that I found out about it?"
Remington paused, torn between telling her a lie and the truth.
Finally he opted for the truth. "Both, I suppose. I *did*
intend to tell you, Laura -"
"When?"
"On our fiftieth anniversary?" he suggested, thinking
that he saw her quickly hide a smile. "Maybe before. I hadn't
quite got that far." He paused. "I tried to think of
something, Laura. I really did. But I knew that whatever we did,
- hell, the Pope could have married us and Keyes wouldn't have
given up - and if there'd been a hint of that marriage not being
valid, he'd have jumped on it and had me on the first plane back
to England. I knew there'd be the very devil to pay when you found
out the truth, but I thought it worth the risk."
"Why? So you wouldn't be deported?
"No, love. So that I wouldn't have to leave you. So that
we could be together, the way I'd wanted us to be for so long."
She turned at last to look at him, and he smiled gently. "Do
you honestly believe that- if Keyes hadn't gone to immigration
about me - you and I wouldn't have eventually ended up right where
we are now? Planning our wedding?"
"You're right, but-"
"And you *did* agree to marry me, if you remember. A real
marriage -"
"But that doesn't change the fact that you conned me."
"And now you're wondering if you can ever trust me again,
am I right?"
She nodded. "Do you blame me? I mean- I felt so foolish when
I realized what had happened."
"Where did you go?" he asked, not sure he wanted to
know the answer.
"To the house."
"You were gone for four hours, Laura - do you expect me to
believe -" Seeing her look, he backed off. "Why there?"
"I wanted to be alone, to think. To try and decide what to
do."
His blue eyes were wary. "And what did you decide?"
"I considered filing for a divorce -"
"Laura -"
"And I decided against that plan. Too messy. I would have
lost the agency anyway - community property," she reminded
him, "and once we weren't married, you'd be facing deportation
again, and we'd be right back where we started."
"So?" he prompted, taking heart that she didn't seem
to want to see him deported, at any rate.
"What I do depends on you."
"On me? Laura, I'll do anything you ask - get down on my
knees and beg if I have to - You can't just toss away five years
on a whim -"
"That's another reason I couldn't get that divorce. I've
already invested five years in this relationship. It's time I
got something out of it -"
"Got something - "
"The truth, Harry. And nothing but the truth."
There was that wary look again. "The truth about what?"
"About why you stayed - *why* you decided to become Remington
Steele instead of following the Royal Lavulite to San Francisco."
He relaxed. "You want the truth? It's the same truth I've
been telling you, Laura. I love you. I have since not long after
I decided to stay."
"But *why* did you decide to stay?"
"Curiosity - and the inability to ignore the challenge you
presented," he confessed.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The first time I saw you, I thought you were incredibly
special - and smart - hell, you had to be, working as a private
detective. And I could see something in your eyes - some glimmer
of the woman that you had tried so hard to deny after Wilson Jeffries
deserted you. I wanted to find out who that woman you were hiding
was- what she was like. At first, I'll admit - since you asked
for the truth - my only thought *was* to get you into my arms
and my bed. But some part of me knew that one night was never
going to be enough. A whole bloody lifetime won't be enough for
me. You were so damned prickly - frightened of the slightest hint
of a commitment on my part - "
"I never saw any hint of -"
"Laura, I had never stayed more than a few months in one
place - I've been here five years. If that's not a commitment,
I don't know what is. I'm not sorry that we got married, Laura
- I *am* sorry that I lied to you about it." He watched her
face as she looked back toward the fire. "What were your
other choices?" he asked.
"To go through with the marriage on Saturday," she told
him. "And it's the one I decided on. Because you're right.
I *did* agree to marry you- and I don't even want to think about
your not being in my life, Remington Harrison Steele."
"Thank the lord," he sighed, pulling her into his arms
for a long embrace. "I'll make it up to you, Laura. I promise."
"With one condition," Laura temporized.
Remington pulled back, frowning. "Condition?"
"No more lies. From now on, it's honesty all the way."
"I think I can manage that," he agreed, reaching out
her to frame her face with gentle fingers. "I was so worried.
You were gone for so long. I was afraid that you might -"
"That I might what?"
"Be looking for Antony," he said at last, dropping a
line of kisses along her brow.
"Tony? The thought never-" His eyes met hers, and seeing
the silent reminder of their pact of honesty, said, "All
right, it *did* cross my mind. But I knew it wouldn't be fair
to Tony to get his hopes up when I knew I'd never be in love with
him the way I am with you." And saying that, she pulled his
head down to hers, lips to lips.
Remington sensed that she hadn't fully forgiven him yet, that
he wasn't nearly done hearing about his transgression, but he
also knew that she loved him. And knowing that made whatever demands
she might make later worthwhile. He pulled her across his lap,
into his arms. "And I love you, Laura," he assured her.
She grinned. "I should have known, I suppose. Ever since
that ceremony, that possessive streak of yours has really shown
itself. First with Tony - and then about the evening out that
Frances has planned."
"I just didn't think it proper for a married woman to be
going out drinking and carousing-"
"Drinking and carousing? Sounds interesting," she said
with a wicked grin. "But you have to remember that I didn't
*know* I was already a married woman."
"Well, I suppose now you'll call Frances and have her cancel-"
"Why should I do that?" Laura asked. Seeing a hint of
green in that blue gaze, she smiled. "I'm going."
"I really wish you wouldn't, Laura. And not for the reason
you think. It might not be safe for you to be out and about."
"Oh, now, you're really pushing it, Harry -"
"Unless Jarvis has Antony in custody," he said.
"Tony? Why would Jarvis arrest Tony? He hasn't done anything."
"Why do you still insist on protecting him, Laura?"
Remington asked.
Laura tried to get up, but he held her tightly. "Let me go."
"He's an accomplice after the fact in two murders, Laura,
if not worse. And he sent Max Grumby to Estelle Becker with that
story -"
"And I suppose Max confessed to all of this?" Laura
questioned, not wanting to believe him.
"In a way." He released her for a moment to pull an
envelope from his pocket.
Laura took it, seeing the words "To Remington Steele"
on the front. "What's this?"
"A combined confession and suicide note," he explained,
allowing her to rise at last. Doing likewise, he went to refill
his glass.
"Max is- dead?"
"Just like Malcolm," he said, watching as she sat down
in a chair, obviously in shock.
"My god. When?"
"While you were out. Someone from the building reported hearing
a single gunshot from Max's office. Jarvis called me as soon as
he got there." He poured a glass of brandy for Laura, carrying
it across to place it in her hands. "Drink this."
Laura took a sip of the fiery liquor, felt the warmth seep back
into her body. She put the glass on the nearest table and opened
the letter. "It details his plan to break up our marriage,
then his change of that plan when du Mont decided he wanted more
money. That's why du Mont called me to the hotel that night, to
try to convince me to give him his blackmail money."
Remington nodded. "And Max was afraid that du Mont might
betray him, so he took a throwaway gun that he'd bought years
ago and shot du Mont, intending to frame you for the murder, thinking
that the bigamy accusation would come out in the investigation."
"And that's when Tony came into the picture," Laura
realized.
"Thanks to me and my meddling. If I'd listened to you to
begin with, Antony Roselli would have stayed in South America
and Max would still be alive."
Laura read Max's account of Tony's involvement, shaking her head.
"It's still just Max's word against Tony's," she pointed
out.
Remington slammed his glass down on the bar. "Bloody hell
it is. Look, Laura, Antony Roselli is as responsible for Max's
death- and Manny's - as if he'd pulled the trigger himself. Jarvis
is expecting a full report on him tomorrow morning - he's going
to call when he gets it. And it was Antony's people who asked
Jarvis to pick him up- "
"Tony won't hurt me, Harry," she insisted, putting the
letter back into the envelope and picking up her glass of brandy
to take a sip.
"He's gone round the bend, Laura. There's no telling what
he's capable of. You read that letter. Even Max thought he was
unstable - that you'd be better off in prison than with a snake
like Antony Roselli."
"I won't be alone Friday night," she told him. "Mother,
Mildred, Frances, and the rest of the circus will be there too.
And I'm sure you're going to tell Mildred to watch me like a hawk
anyway -"
He smiled slightly. "The thought had occurred to me. Although
I probably wouldn't have to ask - "
A thought struck Laura. "Did Mildred know-?"
"About the first wedding?" He hesitated. "Yes.
But only since that day in the hospital when you thought I was
going to tell her about it being fake. I couldn't tell her that."
He looked at her. "Why don't we have dinner?" he suggested.
"The soup should be nice and hot by now."
Laura led the way to the table, waiting until he returned with
the pan and ladled some of the hot soup into her bowl. "What
are you going to do Friday night?"
"I called Monroe this morning and told him I'd changed my
mind about not doing anything," he told her, sitting down
and opening his napkin, pretending not to notice her expression.
"We're going to play poker."
"Poker? But Donald doesn't-"
He grinned. "He's going to learn," Remington told her.
"It had better be a clean game, Harry," Laura warned.
"Or else you might have to deal with my sister." She
sipped her soup. "What else did Estelle have to say after
I left?"
"Nothing much. I left her with Mildred so I could follow
you - but I was too late. That little trick with the cab -"
he reminded her, frowning.
"Did you like that? I thought it was rather clever."
"Clever, eh? Clever enough to put me through four hours of
hell wondering where you were and who you were with." He
shook his head. "I never considered that you might have gone
to the house."
"It looks wonderful," she told him. "I can't wait
to move in."
"Two more days," he said.
"I need to finish packing what needs to go over there,"
she said. "The movie posters-"
"They can stay," he said. "I'll get new ones."
She remembered something that had been troubling her. "How
do you know Juan Cortez' cousin?" she asked.
He looked uncertain. "You remember my telling you about the
-trouble I had in Acapulco?"
"Yes." Now she was wary.
"Julio was the one who helped me get out of the city. So
when he called and asked me to help Juan, I met with him. He seemed
a nice little man, who wanted one thing out of life: to own a
fishing boat of his own."
Laura smiled at a memory. "A little like Marcos?"
"I suppose. I loaned him the down payment and then cosigned
the loan for him -"
Laura's eyes widened. "You *loaned* him the down payment?
Where did you get the money?"
"It was mine, actually -"
"Yours? I didn't know-"
"I've made a few investments over the years-"
"With Agency funds," Laura pointed out, about to launch
into a lecture on ethics and embezzlement. Remington very calmly
put his napkin on the table and rose, leaving the room without
a word. Curious, Laura followed him, meeting him as he returned
to the living room from the bedroom holding out a small book.
"What's this?"
"A bankbook," he told her. "Every penny I ever
used of Agency funds is listed there- paid back with interest.
You're welcome to have Mildred check it all out if you like."
Laura opened the book, flipping through the pages. It was the
last entry that got her full attention. "You have *this*
much money - you said a *few* investments - it's more than a few-
and they all seem to have paid off quite well."
"Daniel said the same thing," he told her, returning
to the table and his soup.
"Daniel knew about this?" she asked, still looking at
the book.
"I told him about it several months ago. Told him how surprised
I was that my investments had done so well- he said that I had
the "touch", as he called it."
"As in 'Midas'?" Laura asked, coming to slip into his
lap as he nodded and pushed the bowl away. "No wonder you
weren't overly concerned about Mother's spending so much money
on the wedding- or redecorating the house." She handed the
book back to him. "You are still full of surprises, Harry."
He smiled, standing, lifting her into his arms. "I hope so,
Mrs. Steele," he said.
"Where are we going?" she asked, as he reached out to
flip off the dining room and living room lights.
"To bed."
"But - I have to pack - And- the dishes-"
"Later," he said, stopping to close the bedroom door
behind them with his foot. "Later."
**********
Tony Roselli sat in a beat up old car on the street across from
the Rossmore Arms, his gaze fixed on the window of Steele's apartment.
A patrol car passed, and Tony slipped down in the seat, turning
his face. When he looked back, the apartment was dark. Another
patrol car was coming down the street. Tony sunk down again. Jarvis
must have ordered increased patrols, he thought. He'd have to
ditch the car, come back on foot. He was going to be Laura's shadow
until he got the chance to talk to her, to convince her that whatever
Grumby had written about him was a pack of lies - to make her
see that *he* was the right man for her. She'd forget Steele in
time, he mused, starting the engine and pulling away from the
curb toward a parking lot down the street. And she would turn
to him - the way it was meant to be. The way it was *going* to
be.
To Be Continued . . .