Steele in Pursuit 3
Part One
Laura Steele entered the agency offices fully expecting to the get the third degree from Mildred about her meeting with Anson Harper, the older woman's favorite contemporary singer. "I'm back, Mildred," she announced.

Mildred handed her a stack of messages and bills. "Hello, Mrs. Steele," she murmured, her gaze never leaving the closed door that led to Remington's office.

"Mr. Harper is really a very charming man, Mildred," Laura commented.

"That's nice, Mrs. Steele." Laura frowned. Was this the same woman who had practically begged to be allowed to tag along on this interview?

Pretending to be interested in the mail, Laura said, "He and I are planning to run away together-"

"That's nice," Mildred said, then blinked as her employer's words sunk in. "What?"

Laughing, Laura smiled. "I was just trying to get your attention, Mildred," she quickly assured the receptionist. Nodding toward the closed door, she asked, "What's going on in there?"

"I have no idea," Mildred said with a shrug. "Right after you left for your appointment - which Mr. Steele was still upset about you going to alone- a man arrived and asked to speak to him."

"What man?" Laura asked, frowning now. "A client?"

"I don't think so. At least, I've never seen him before. Red hair, conservative suit, bowler hat- and he had an Irish accent."

"An - Irish accent?" Laura repeated as the door opened and the gentleman in question appeared. Tipping his hat, he smiled.

"Good day t'you, ladies," he wished, before leaving the office.

Laura and Mildred exchanged surprised glanced.

**********

Remington Steele sat at his desk, the papers that his visitor had left in his hand. As much as he loved Laura- and Mildred - it seemed that every time the two women in his life tried to help him, it backfired.

First, the passport that Mildred had obtained in the name Remington Steele had led to all of the problems with immigration. Of course, he mused, that had gotten him Laura, so it hadn't been all bad. And now Laura's search for his birth certificate had resulted in - he tossed the papers onto his desk- this.

Laura and Mildred peeked into the the room cautiously, seeing him sit back, a scowl on his handsome face. He looked up at them. "You might as well come in so I can tell you both what's going on," he said. Picking up the papers, he met them in the conference area. "I suppose you saw the gentleman who was just here?" he asked Laura.

"Who was he, Remington?" she asked. She had begun soon after the wedding to begin a conscious effort not to call him Harry in the office. It was too confusing for clients, and she had slipped once or twice.

He held out a business card. "Patrick R. O'Herlihy," he announced.

Laura took the card while Mildred looked over her arm. "Solicitor. Dublin?"

He nodded grimly. "His firm handled the estate of my maternal grandfather." His mind returned to the still unread report about that man that lay in his bedside table.

"Why is he here now, Mr. Steele?" Mildred wondered.

"Apparently the search for my birth certificate alerted someone who contacted Mr. O'Herlihy -"

"But why?" Laura asked now.

"When my grandfather died ten years ago, his will set a ten year limit on locating his only grandson -"

"Let me guess," Laura said. "That time limit is about to expire."

"In two weeks. But in order to fulfill the terms of the will, I have to go to Ireland -"

"And if you don't," Laura asked, "What then?"

"The entire estate will be sold to the highest bidder- which would look to be a distant cousin who's a developer. No doubt with plans to close down all the farms and raze the house to put up apartments. Or a shopping mall."

"What about the money?" Mildred asked, then shrugged as Remington glared at her. "Just curious, boss."

"Given to various charities."

Laura touched his arm as he handed the papers to Mildred. "You don't want to go?"

"Part of me does, of course. But there are so many reasons not to-"

She watched him carefully. "Such as?"

He paced to the window, hands in his pockets, a habitual movement that meant he was uncertain. "My grandfather apparently wanted nothing to do with me when I was born. So why leave me everything?"

"Maybe he had a change of heart," Laura suggested. "Thought it would make things up to you somehow."

"Plus there's the fact that I've played this role in too many of Daniel's cons, Laura. The long lost son, grandson, relation, miraculously appearing to claim my inheritance-"

"Only this time, it's for real. Maybe Daniel always thought this might happen. That your grandfather's lawyers would find you."

"And then there's you. And the agency. We've spent so much time away this last year as it is. And with this new client-"

"I wouldn't worry about Anson Harper. I think he's going with another agency for security."

Mildred looked up, frowning. "He decided not to hire us?" she asked, obviously disappointed.

"Not -exactly," Laura said slowly, knowing that Remington was looking at her. "I turned him down."

Remington placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. "Why? You were the one who insisted that a contract with Harper could be good for the agency-"

"Let's just say that Mr. Harper doesn't take rejection well," she said.

"I knew it was a mistake to let you go see that old lecher alone," Remington fretted.

"Oh, Mrs. Steele," Mildred said. "You don't mean that he tried to-"

"It wasn't anything that I couldn't handle," she assured the both. Deciding to change the subject before Remington could ask anything else, she said, "How long would you have to stay in Ireland?" she asked him.

"I don't really know."

"At least a week," Mildred said, holding up the papers. "Maybe longer if any of the cousins want to dispute your identity-"

"I ought to just let them have the whole bloody thing," he muttered.

"As see all those innocent people set out of the homes that their families have probably farmed for generations?" Laura asked. She shook her head. "Make the reservations, Mildred."

Mildred nodded, turning away. "You got it, Mrs. Steele."

Remington pulled Laura into his arms. "You don't have to do this, Laura," he told her, his blue eyes softening as they looked into her brown ones. "I can go alone-"

Laura's hands slid to his shoulders. "Do you really think that I would let you do this alone? Besides, what if some little colleen catches your eye and you forget all about me?"

"Never happen, Mrs. Steele," he assured her, kissing her in a way that left her little doubt in his words. When he drew back, he said, "You said that Daniel might have known this could happen - When the old man- my grandfather," he amended, "died, I read about it in the paper, even suggested to Daniel that we try to pass me off as the missing grandson."

"What did Daniel say?"

"He came up with some excuse - said he had another scheme for us - " He shook his head. " I always wondered why he pulled back from something that I thought was an easy mark. Now I know why."

"He couldn't very well have let you go to your mother's family. Someone would have been sure to recognize him - and then he would have been forced to tell you the truth- and that was something he didn't want to risk."

Remington drew a shuddering breath. He glanced at the papers again. "Liam Michael O'Riley Harrison. That was his name. One of the wealthiest men in Ireland when he died- descended from Irish Kings - and a Lord at that."

"There's a title as well?" Laura asked, reading over his arm.

"Apparently." He looked at her. "Ready to take another tour of the old country, your ladyship?"

To Be Continued . . .
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