Disclaimers in Part 1
Laura nodded, putting on a resolved face. "So it does."
"You're sure you want to do this? If we're right, and he's done something to Mildred, he's dangerous."
"Do you have another way to find out what he's up to?" Laura asked. "Besides, it was *your* idea, remember?"
"I know," Remington said as the doorbell rang again. "But I hadn't thought about your being alone with him."
"I still can't believe that he would hurt me. You and Mildred seem to be his targets."
He gave up on the doorbell and knocked loudly. "Laura? You in there?" Tony called out.
"Coming!" Laura called back in response, pushing Remington toward the bedroom door as she turned to the front door, pretending to be out of breath as she opened it. "Tony. You're early," she said, her hand to her ear as if she were just putting on the earring.
"Right on time," Tony told her, glancing at his watch. "Is everything okay, Laura?" he asked, taking a step into the apartment as Laura moved to grab her purse and jacket. "I ran the doorbell several times-"
"I was in the bedroom," Laura explained. "I guess I didn't hear it." She grabbed his arm. "Let's go. We're going to be late for that meeting with Mr. Houston." The last thing Laura needed was for Tony to start poking around the apartment and find out that Remington was home. She pulled on his arm as she spoke, closing the door behind them and locking the door for effect.
Tony followed her to the elevator, and when Laura looked at him, he was looking at her with a curious expression. "What?" Laura questioned as the door opened and she got inside.
"Just wondering why you changed your mind about my driving you to the meeting," he said. "Last night-"
"I was tired last night," Laura lied. "And worried."
"Worried?"
"About Mildred. She should have called in by now. I hope she's okay."
"Speaking of Mildred," Tony said. "I got a call from that friend of mine in London just before I left the loft - he's talked to her."
"He did?"
"Yeah. I asked him to hook up with her if he could, make sure she didn't get into any trouble." Tony shook his head. "Thing is, figured out he was a friend of mine, and refused to have anything to do with him. He did say she mentioned that she wasn't going to call you until she had some news about Steele."
"Just great," Laura sighed.
"Don't worry, Laura," Tony said, putting a hand on her arm. "My friend's still got his eye on her. He won't let anything happen to her." He smiled. "Now, why the change about taking the limo?"
"I was looking at the agency's books last night after you left. Mildred usually does it. I'd forgotten how expensive using the limo is. After spending all that time out of the office, gallivanting around England and Ireland, things are a little- tight," Laura told him.
Tony looked up at the building as they left. "Maybe you need to consider moving into a less expensive place," Tony suggested. "The loft's still there."
"And where would you stay?" Laura questioned.
He grinned. "Save money if I stayed there, too," he told her as he opened the passenger side door of the Rabbit. "Just think about it," he finished as he saw her look.
Laura glanced up toward the balcony of the condo in time to see Remington step away from the edge. She'd think about it, all right. For all of two seconds.
As the Rabbit turned the corner, the limo appeared from the other direction to stop before the front door of the Rossmore building. Fred got out and nodded at George. "Mrs. Steele just left," George informed the driver.
"Not here to pick up *Mrs.* Steele," Fred told him, passing the doorman, smiling at the older man's confused expression.
Fred knocked on the door of the Steele's apartment, smiling when the door opened. "Hello, Mr. Steele. Welcome home."
Remington returned the smile. "Fred, my good man. It's good to see you. Punctual as usual, I see," he noted, flicking his shirt cuff aside to look at his watch before grabbing his suit jacket and leaving the apartment with the driver.
George's eyes were wide when he saw who came around the corner from the elevator with Fred. "Mr. Steele? When did you get back?"
"Late last evening, George," Remington told the doorman. "I'd appreciate it if you'd keep my return to yourself for a day or so- "
George nodded, seeming to understand. "You're on a case, aren't you?"
"Something like that."
"You can count on me, Mr. Steele," George assured him. "Mum's the word. Wild horses couldn't drag it out of me."
"Good man," Remington said, following Fred out to the limo.
Once inside, Fred started the engine and then turned around to look at Remington. "Where too, sir?"
"Estelle Becker's office, for a start."
He waited until Fred merged the limo into traffic, and then asked, "Fred, did Mildred mention anything to you about taking a trip?"
"Not a word, Mr. Steele. And we talked not an hour before she supposedly left."
"Supposedly?" Remington questioned. "You don't think she went anywhere?"
"No. I don't know what happened, but she was onto something- and I think it had to do with Mr. Roselli."
Frowning, Remington asked, "What do you mean she was 'onto something', Fred?"
"Well, the morning of the day she disappeared, someone slashed the tires on the limo."
Nodding, Remington said, "Mrs. Steele mentioned that. Said that some of the lads from your neighborhood probably did it-"
"That's what Mr. Roselli said that *he* thought happened," Fred agreed. "But I know those kids, Mr. Steele. Yeah, some of them are a little rough sometimes, but having Remington Steele's limo around is like a- status symbol, you know? They usually beg me to let them wash it and polish the chrome. None of those kids would have done anything like that. That's why Mildred went to my neighborhood during lunch that day- to talk to them, find out if they'd seen anything, anyone lurking around that didn't belong."
"And did she?"
"I'm not sure. She told me that she'd found out something, but she needed proof, and that she was going to call a friend of hers and asked him to check on Mr. Roselli's fingerprints."
"Fingerprints? How did she-?"
Fred looked into the mirror and grinned. "She said she lifted them from the coffee mug that he uses in the office."
"Remarkable woman, our Mildred, eh, Fred?" Remington mused, silently wishing that he had thought about checking Antony's fingerprints. But then, there hadn't really been a lot of time to consider that option, had there? "Did Mildred mention the name of her friend?"
"Strange name. Bumpers or something like that."
"Harrison Bumpers?" Remington clarified.
"That's it."
Remington thought for a second, and then told Fred, "Pull over here, Fred, if you please." Picking up the telephone, he asked, "Did you tell Mrs. Steele about any of this?"
Fred looked embarrassed. "No, sir. Mildred asked me not to. She said she wasn't sure how pleased Mrs. Steele would be with her investigating Mr. Roselli, and wanted hard evidence of something wrong before talking to her about it."
"Understandable," Remington agreed, listening to the telephone ring on the other end.
"US Department if Immigration and Naturalization," the woman said.
"Estelle Becker, please."
"May I say who's calling?" the woman asked.
Remington hesitated, recalling that Antony had contacts within the INS. "Uh, Mr. Harrison."
"Just a moment, let me see if she's in."
A moment later, Estelle Becker's pleasant tones flowed through the line. "Estelle Becker."
"Estelle. It's Remington Steele."
"Mr. Steele?" he could hear her surprise. "Where are you?"
"Los Angeles. Not far from your office, as a matter of fact," he said, glancing outside the limo at the street sign.
"You're back in the country?" she questioned, and he heard her flipping pages. "But- I didn't get an alert that you used your temporary passport-"
"Because I didn't," he informed her smoothly.
"Mr. Steele," Estelle said, and Remington could hear the concern. "I must remind you that using falsified passports is what got you into trouble to begin with -"
"Believe me, Estelle, the passport I used is quite valid. I need to speak with you. Could you meet me at my office in say- fifteen minutes?"
"I think so," Estelle said, then added, "Yes. I can be there."
"Excellent. And, Estelle, could you please - keep this visit between us? For the time being, at least. I think you'll understand once I've had a chance to explain."
"I'll see you in fifteen minutes, then," Estelle promised.
Remington hung up the telephone, and picked it up again to make another call. "The office, Fred."
Fred smiled, obviously thinking about Tony Roselli's reaction to seeing Remington Steele sitting behind his desk. "Yes, sir, Mr. Steele," he agreed eagerly, putting the car into gear and pulling out into an open spot in the traffic.
***
The petite blonde seated at Mildred's desk looked up when Remington entered the office, her green eyes opening wide as she recognized him. "Mr. Steele." She rose from the chair. "Mrs. Steele didn't mention that you were home."
"I only just arrived," Remington told the young woman as he smiled at her. "And you are-?"
"Uh, I'm Marilee Mason," she explained.
"Of course you are," Remington said.
"I'm the temp that Mrs. Steele hired," Marilee explained, turning when Estelle Becker came through the doors. "May I help you?" she asked, only to step back as Remington spoke.
"Estelle. Thank you for coming on such short notice," Remington said, placing a hand to the woman's elbow. "Why don't we go into my office and have a chat, eh?" He turned to Marilee. "Miss - Mason, was it?" Marilee nodded. "I'd like to surprise my wife. Don't tell her that I'm here if she happens to come in. And any calls that come in my private line, I'll answer."
"Yes sir," Marilee said, sounding confused and uncertain.
As Remington closed the door behind them, Estelle asked, "Where's Mildred?"
"That's a matter of debate at the moment. Depending on who you talk to, she's either gone to visit her sister, or in England looking for me." He indicated the sofa in the conference area."
"Should I be confused, Mr. Steele?" Estelle asked.
"Why don't we resolve our business first," Remington suggested, and pulled something from his jacket pocket to hand to her. "You might be interested in seeing this."
Estelle took it from him, her expression wary as she recognized what it was. "A passport?"
"Temporary," Remington nodded. "Until the paperwork is finished. Luckily, my grandfather knows someone high enough in the Irish government to have gotten that on short notice. About half an hour, actually." He realized that he was babbling and stopped, watching her open the passport and look inside.
"Harrison Chalmers?" she questioned.
"My birth name. The only place that my existence is registered is in my grandfather's family Bible. It was enough for the Irish authorities to issue me that so I could return to the United States without setting off alarms."
"You didn't want me to know you were back?"
"Not you, precisely. The leak in your office. And anyone else who might have been watching for the temporary passport that Immigration issued to Remington Steele. Do you know the name Antony Roselli, Estelle?"
"Not personally, no. But he was mentioned in the report concerning Norman Keyes' death in Mexico. Strange. Mrs. Steele asked me about him as well."
"Yes, well, there's a reason for that. Mr. Roselli was the one who had you replaced on my case by Gladys Lynch, and then sent Gladys off to keep her quiet."
"He was? Why would he do that, Mr. Steele?" Estelle wanted to know.
"To blackmail me into helping him with something that he was involved in - All more or less aboveboard, I assure you. A diplomatic matter of some importance-"
"Does it have to do with what happened in Ireland?" Estelle questioned.
"In part, yes. Can you use that to keep me in the country, Estelle?" he returned, tapping the passport that she still held.
"I'll have to call my counterpart in Ireland and verify your story, but - I think we can arrange a permit. There are still a lot of questions to be answered-"
"And I assure you, Estelle, that all of your questions will be answered in the fullness of time. But it's vitally important that you keep this as quiet as you can- it's very likely that Mr. Roselli still has some contacts with the INS- and they're no doubt waiting for word that I'm back in the country so that they can tell him."
"And he doesn't want you to be back?"
"Mr. Roselli has developed an- infatuation with my wife, Estelle," Remington explained. "Almost an obsession, I would say. He might be responsible somehow for Mildred's mysterious disappearance."
"Oh my. Have you called the police?"
"We've no proof," Remington said. "Until we have it, we're being forced to play a very dangerous game."
"How long do you need me to keep this under wraps?" Estelle wanted to know.
"I'll let you know. It shouldn't be long. Once Laura and Mr. Roselli return from meeting with a client, he'll know I'm back - and he'll be forced to show his hand."
The telephone on Remington's desk began to ring. "That's my private line," he told her, rising as she did the same. Moving to the desk, he picked up the phone. "Steele here. Can you hold for a moment? I'll be right with you." He took Estelle's hand. "Thank you for everything, Estelle," he said with genuine gratitude. "I'll be in touch."
"Make sure you do, Mr. Steele," Estelle said, and left the office.
Remington moved quickly toward the telephone and picked it up. "Sorry about that-."
"Not a problem, Steele," Harrison Bumpers replied. "How's Mildred?"
"That's the reason I'm calling Mr. Bumpers. Mildred's disappeared- and I have an idea that you were the last person she spoke with before it happened."
"Well, now, I'll do anything for Mildred, Mr. Steele. How can I be of help?"
***
Laura sighed deeply as Tony drove the Rabbit away from the gallery. "Wish they were all that easy?" he asked.
"It was, wasn't it?"
"How'd you know that guy was a con?" he asked. "He had me fooled."
Laura shrugged. "Experience. Working with Remington for the past five years, I've learned a few of the signs, I suppose."
"Well, you certainly pegged that one." She felt him looking at her again. "So why don't you seem happier? You solved the case, got a hefty fee- the check in your pocket's not small potatoes."
"I know. It's just-" she sighed again. "I've been thinking that, well, maybe you're right."
Tony braked the car at a stoplight. "Right? About what?"
"What if he doesn't come back? What if Mildred *doesn't* come back? What if even after she finds Remington, she decides to stay with him? It could happen. She's always been closer to him than to me." That wasn't entirely true. Mildred hadn't really played favorites since she'd found out the truth about Remington Steele's past. But it sounded good, Laura thought.
Tony reached across to place a hand on her shoulders. "I'm here. And I'll always be here."
"That's what *he* said," Laura recalled, glancing around. "But I don't see him, do you?"
"Laura, from what you told me, guys like that aren't long term. Truthfully, I'm surprised that he stayed as long as he did."
"I know. I guess I was just fooling myself." She sighed again. "Tell you what, take me to dinner tonight, and we can discuss where we go from here."
Tony smiled. "You're on. Anyplace in particular?"
"Surprise me," Laura responded.
He moved toward her, only to stop as the car behind them honked its horn. Tony glanced up at the now green light and released the brake to set the car into motion, ignoring the man who was yelling at them to get a move on. Nothing was going to dim his moment of success. Laura had finally chosen him over Steele.
As soon as they got back to the office, he would get in touch with his man in Ireland- find out if it was done yet- and then give Laura the sad news that Remington Steele had been killed in a fire while visiting his grandfather. Mildred would simply vanish as a result of her grief over Steele's tragic death, and that would leave Tony for Laura to lean on, to depend on.
He recalled the way the morning had begun, with his not being able to contact his friend in Ireland- and the report from the Inn where he'd been staying that the man hadn't been in all day. The only thing that had lightened Tony's mood had been Laura's call, requesting that he pick her up for the meeting with Mr. Houston after all.
Turning the car into the underground garage beneath Century City, Tony mused that things were definitely looking up.
***
Once they were in the elevator, Tony pulled Laura into his arms. "You won't regret this, Laura. I promise."
She smiled at him, returning his kiss, pulling away only when the doors opened on their floor. Tony followed her back to the office, ignoring Marilee as he pulled Laura toward her old office - which would soon be his permanently, no doubt.
"Tony," Laura protested, but didn't try *too* hard to pull away from him.
"Mrs. Steele," Marilee said, but Tony spoke.
"Hold all calls, Marilee," he ordered. "Laura and I are in conference."
"But-" the receptionist began. Anything else was cut off as Tony closed the door and pulled Laura into his arms.
"A conference?" Laura asked, looking up at him. "What about?"
"Unfinished business," he said, lowering his lips to hers to complete the kiss they'd begun in the elevator.
The sound of the connecting door opening didn't register until he heard Steele's voice.
"Seems to me that this is where I came into this picture," Remington drawled.
To Be Continued---