Remington stood there, his back to the now closed door, eyeing the man across the room with a suspicious gaze. "Antony. What a surprise."
"You didn't tell him?" Tony asked Laura.
"I didn't have a chance," Laura insisted. "The children were downstairs when I got there- and-"
"Tell me what- precisely?" Remington asked, his voice still quiet and restrained.
Tony exchanged another look with Laura, then grabbed a folder from the coffee table and held it out to Remington. "Here. Take a look at this. It'll explain everything."
Remington took the folder, his brow lifting as he took note of the name on the tab before he opened it and started to read.
***
Megan convinced her brothers that if they all started in her room, then to Daniel's and then to Patrick's, they would get finished more quickly than if they worked separately to clean up their rooms.
After seeing her peer out of the window for the third time, Daniel picked up a stuffed bear she'd gotten from a friend at school and asked, "Where does this go?"
"Huh? The bed," she answered, still looking outside.
"What are you looking at?" he asked, joining her.
"Just wondering what's going on with Mom and Dad," she answered.
"I know," Patrick, answered, his small arms filled with the clothes that Megan had changed out of upon her arrival at home from school.
"No you don't, Patrick," Megan said.
"Yes, I do. They're hiding our Christmas presents in Harley's apartment," he said. "So we won't find them this year."
Daniel gave Megan a look. "He could be right. I mean, after you picked that lock to the attic last year and found the new bikes-"
"I don't think so," Megan insisted. "It's not presents up there in that apartment."
"What makes you so certain?" Daniel wanted to know.
"Because a bike couldn't have moved the curtain in the window. And I saw it move while we were leaving earlier with Mom," she told him.
"All done," Patrick announced, and Megan surveyed the room with approval.
"We did a good job," she agreed, causing her brothers to frown at each other. There had been very little *we* to it. Daniel and Patrick had done most of the work.
"Let's go to my room, then," Daniel said, and he and Patrick went to the door.
"I'll be right there," Megan said, pretending to smooth the cover on the bed. "You know how picky Agatha is about beds. I just want to make sure this one will pass inspection."
As soon as her brothers were gone, Megan tiptoed past Daniel's room and down the back stairs that would take her to the kitchen. She heard noises coming from the pantry, but the kitchen itself was clear, so she ducked out of the back door and moved quickly down the path toward the garage.
***
"Where did you get this?" Remington asked Tony, frowning over the information that it contained. Names, dates, places, all *apparently* linking Philip Cameron to drug trafficking and more.
"A client back in New York. Pete Mitchell." Remington glanced at Tony as he continued to read. "He worked for Cameron for six years before he quit two months ago and started getting the information together."
"Where is he now?" Remington questioned.
"He's dead," Laura answered. "He was shot on the street right after giving that and a safety deposit box key to Tony."
Remington felt a cold chill down his spine. "When was he shot?" he asked.
"Yesterday evening."
"What time?" Remington asked, and saw Laura looking at him curiously.
"Hell," Tony sighed, thinking. "A little after four. We met at four and talked for a few minutes. He gave me the folder and we were going back to the cars when someone drove by and pumped him full of bullets. They almost got me, too, but I managed to duck behind a car."
"Four. Which would have made it- one in the afternoon here," Remington mused.
"Yeah," Tony agreed, frowning as he looked at Laura. She shook her head at him.
"Remington? Is something wrong?"
"I had a late lunch with Philip yesterday," he reminded her.
"Yes. Late and long," she confirmed, telling Tony, "They left at noon and Remington got back to the office at two."
"Just as he was dropping me back at the agency in his limo, the telephone rang," Remington recalled.
His mind went back to the previous afternoon, as he heard Philip Cameron's voice speaking into the telephone. "Did you find him? . . . Where? . . . What was he doing in New York?" he asked the person on the other end. Remington, not wanting to pry, had busied himself getting ready to depart from the limo as it came to a stop before Century Plaza. Philip's lips had thinned slightly, as if the answer from whomever he was speaking with hadn't been one he wanted to hear. "And the information? . . . Find out." He'd hung up the telephone and said his goodbyes to Remington as though nothing had happened, once again the charming, urbane industrialist who was going to marrying Remington's sister.
Now, Remington relayed the conversation back to Tony and Laura. "I didn't pay any attention to it at the time, but in the light of this-" he held up the folder, "It could mean something. Of course, he never said Mitchell's name, so he could have been talking about anyone." He sighed. "This is still just innuendo and circumstantial evidence, Antony. No proof that I could see."
"I've got the proof," Tony assured him. "It's in that safety deposit box that Laura mentioned. It's at a bank in the Valley." He held up the key that Pete Mitchell had pressed into Tony's hand as he lay dying on a cold, snow edged New York sidewalk.
"Why did you bring him here?" Remington asked Laura.
"I didn't have much choice after someone took a shot at him at the motel," she replied.
"A shot?"
"I was walking Laura out to her car after we talked and someone took a shot at us," Tony explained.
"So it's- likely that Cameron knows you're onto him. And you've led him right back to us. Lovely," Remington sighed.
"Remington, we have to help him on this," Laura pointed out, drawing both men's attention. "If we don't, and he does this alone and proves that Philip Cameron's empire is based on selling drugs, then what is that going to do to the Agency, since we were right there and never saw a thing?"
"I'm sorry, Laura," Tony said. "But my biggest concern isn't the agency. It's Jess."
Remington looked at Tony with a contemplative expression. "I'm afraid that I have to agree with Antony, Laura."
"You can't tell her about this. Not yet," Laura insisted. "Not until we have the proof in hand. She won't believe any of it without proof."
Her husband nodded. "Very well. In for a penny, in for a pound. Why don't you go back to the office and take care of things there, while Antony and I go and retrieve the proof Pete Mitchell left in that box?"
"Why don't Tony and *I* go do that-" Laura began, but Remington shook his head.
"I think Antony and I need to have a *chat*, don't you, Antony?"
"Remington," Laura said in a frustrated tone. "There's not reason for you-"
"He's right, Laura," Tony said, cutting her off. "We do need to talk."
Laura sighed, looking from Tony to Remington. "All right. But if you come to blows, I don't want to hear about it." She moved to give Remington a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you later," she told him. Handing him her keys, she said, "Take my car. I'll take yours."
He nodded. "Be careful."
"You do the same."
Laura's smile was uncertain as she closed the door behind her.
***
Megan hid behind a tree, watching as her mother came from the garage apartment and turned back toward the house. Ducking, Megan kept from being discovered, but knew that she wouldn't have long to find out what was going on. Once her mother got back to the house, she would find out from Daniel or Patrick- Patrick most likely- that Megan had gone out to "investigate", and the game would be up.
As soon as her mother was far enough up the path, Megan moved toward the stairs and started climbing them slowly.
***
"Why are you really here, Antony?"
Tony smiled. "It's not because of Laura, Steele," he said firmly. "If that's what you're thinking."
"Can you blame me? After what happened eighteen months ago?"
"No. I can't. But the only reason I'm here is because of Jess. I know I screwed up, and I know she'll probably never be able to trust me again- but I can't just stand back and let her make a mistake that could cost her her life."
"You should have thought about all of that before you threw everything away," Remington pointed out.
"I know that! I love Jess, okay? Hell, why else do you think I spent almost ten years hanging around? I even gave her an engagement ring-"
"When?"
"Just before I left. She gave it back."
Remington shook his head. "Your timing, Antony."
"I know. It's always been lousy. And it's not any better this time."
"No," Remington admitted. "Let's get to the bank. I'd like to have this resolved before this evening so that I don't have smile pretend that I'm not worried about Jessica."
On the stairs, Megan subdued her surprise upon hearing who was with her father and hurried down the stairs and into the garage to hide as the door opened. She heard the two men come down, and hid behind a stack of newspapers that Patrick was collecting for a project at school as they came into the garage and got into her mother's car.
She waited until the car was gone, then left the garage- only to run smack on into her mother. "What do you think you're doing, Megan Steele?" Laura asked.
"Uh- looking for Christmas presents?" Megan suggested. Her mother stood there, arms folded, waiting. Megan sighed. "Why is Uncle Tony here and hiding in Harley's apartment?" she asked.
And it was Laura's turn to sigh deeply.
***
The bank was busy; it was, after all, payday for most people. The clerk Tony asked about the safety deposit box frowned as she looked at her records. "I'm sorry. The box was closed this morning by Mr. Mitchell's attorney."
"His attorney?" Tony repeated.
"Looks like they didn't waste any time," Remington noted.
"Damn," Tony sighed, and asked the woman, "What was the attorney's name?"
She consulted her records. "Harwell. Mark Harwell."
"Let's go, mate," Remington said, taking Tony's arm.
"But-"
Remington smiled at the clerk, who moved away to take care of other business as Remington spoke softly. "Mark Harwell is one of Philip Cameron's people. I've heard Jessica mention the name."
"Damn," Tony said again. "What now?"
"We've still go one ace in the hole," Remington said. "Come along."
"I knew I should have come here first thing this morning," Tony said. "But I wanted to get in touch with Laura and make sure she would help."
"Timing again," Remington commented, reaching toward the car. Something stopped him, and he said, "Don't touch the car, Antony." Tony looked over the roof, frowning. "I think someone's tampered with it."
"How can you tell?" Tony asked.
"There's a puddle of fluid here-" he stepped back, then bent to touch the fluid on the concrete, testing the feel of it between his fingers before dropping to his knees. He saw Tony's face appear on the other side of the car. "I think someone's tampered with the brake line," he said.
"Do you think that's all they did?" Tony asked.
"Let's see, shall we?" Remington said, and lifted the door handle, wincing. Nothing happened, and he reached inside, surveying the interior. Nothing looked out of place, so he pulled the handle to release the hood.
He met Tony at the front of the car and they both looked at the engine. "Looks clean to me," Tony pronounced.
"Let me call the Auto Club," Remington told him, "And then I'll have Fred pick us up to take us back to the office."
***
Terri's eyes widened with surprise as she saw Tony enter the office behind Remington. "Mr. Roselli," she said.
"Hi, Terri," he said. "Guess you worked out after all, hmm?"
"I guess so," she replied, looking nervously toward Remington and Laura. "Should I mention that Miss Thorne is on her way down here to see Mrs. Steele?"
"Just great," Remington sighed, and grabbed Tony. "This way, Antony." He looked back at Laura. "Is he here?"
"Chomping at the bit," Laura answered, looking toward the doors. "Go on."
"If she asks," Remington said, lingering at the open door-
"You're out meeting a client," Laura finished. Go on!" She barely got the door closed before Jessica Thorne entered the office. "Jessica. Terri mentioned that you wanted to see me?"
"You and Remington, actually," Jessica said. "Is he here?"
Mildred came from her office at that moment. "Did I hear Mr. Steele?" she asked Laura.
"No, Mildred," Laura said firmly. "You imagined it."
"I was sure- Hi, Jessica."
"Hello, Mildred," Jessica said, giving Laura a strange look. "Is everything all right, Laura? You're not acting like yourself."
"Everything's fine," Laura insisted. "Tell you what, I was just about to go find a decent cup of coffee- why don't we both go to that little coffee shop on the first floor?"
"If you like," Jessica agreed, her expression still uncertain as Laura pulled her out of the office and down the corridor.
"What was that all about?" Mildred asked Terri.
The receptionist used the pen in her hand to point toward the door in the corner. "Um, Tony Roselli's in there with Mr. Steele."
Mildred's eyes widened. "You're kidding! No wonder Laura got Jessica out of here the way she did. Last thing she needs is to see the Rat again."
"Mildred, why do you call him that?" Terri asked. "I mean, Mr. Roselli always seemed like a nice enough guy-"
"Oh, honey, if I had an hour, I could tell you a tale." She looked around, and then leaned over the desk. "It all began when Mr. And Mrs. Steele went to Mexico on their honeymoon . . ."
***
Sidney Blake shook Tony's hand, smiling. "Mrs. Steele tells me you've got a problem, Mr. Steele."
Remington indicated that both men should sit down in the conference area. Sid Blake had been a top-notch investigative reporter in his younger days, before youth and computers had taken away the need for men of his caliber and reduced him to scrounging for rumors and such. Now, he worked for Remington Steele Investigations, making sure the Agency's publicity reflected the group effort it was instead of focusing solely on Remington Steele himself.
"It's your story, Antony."
Tony told Sid everything he knew about Philip Cameron's history, including the part about Cameron's first wife's death possibly being more than just cancer-related. Then he told the reporter about Pete Mitchell's death and the two attempts on his life since his arrival in LA.
"Mrs. Steele was right," Sid commented once Tony finished. "You do have a problem."
"Think you can help us, Sid?" Remington asked. "Discreetly, of course. Don't want you making yourself a target."
"Oh, don't worry about me, Mr. Steele," the little man assured him with a grin. "That's one of the advantages of being me. No one notices me. I'll see what I can dig up."
"Make it quick, Sid," Remington said. "I don't know how long we can keep Tony under wraps."
"Perhaps you shouldn't," Sid suggested.
"Come again?"
"The idea is to get your sister away from Philip Cameron until this is sorted out, right? Why not simply have Mr. Roselli tell her that he's realized his mistake and wants another chance?"
"You don't know Jess," Tony said. "She'd laugh in my face."
"Sid's idea might have merit, Antony," Remington said, his expression thoughtful. "And it might just force Cameron's hand. Force him to make a move of some kind."
"With me as the target," Tony said. "Thanks, Steele."
"Always willing to offer whatever assistance I can, Antony," Remington countered. "Feel up to crashing a party this evening?"
***
"You have *got* to talk to your daughter," Laura told Remington later as the three of them drove back to the house.
"*My* daughter?" Remington questioned. "I've always thought she was more like you than me."
"*I'm* not the one with a penchant for taking things that don't belong to me," Laura pointed out.
"She only did it that one time," Remington pointed out. "And *I* don't do it anymore," he reminded her. He gave her a glance. "What did she take this time?"
"Nothing that serious," Laura assured him. "She snuck out of the house earlier and found out that Tony's here."
"See? I told you she was like you."
Laura sighed.
"Megan did that?" Tony asked from where he was laying down across the back seat of the BMW so that anyone watching the car wouldn't see him.
"She did. I explained to her that it was very important that she keep it a secret, but-"
"I'll talk to her," Remington promised, pulling the car into the garage. He watched as Tony pulled things from the car. "Got everything?" he asked.
"I think so. You're sure about this, Steele?"
"No. But at the moment, it's the only idea I have. The family is supposed to gather at seven. If you put in an appearance at seven-thirty, that should be just about perfect."
He and Laura watched Tony climb the steps and enter the apartment before turning toward the house. "I hope this doesn't blow up in our faces," Laura said.
"Laura, such a lack of faith is troubling. When has one of my plans ever-" he met her look and grinned. "Forget I said that. Besides, it's really Sid's idea. Do you have a better one?"
"No," she was forced to admit. "But I'm not sure I like the idea of putting all of our family in danger with this little stunt."
"Cameron's not the type to do something himself. He's got others to do his dirty work for him. We'll be safe enough, I think." He saw Megan sitting in the gazebo. "PI in training at eleven o'clock."
Laura smiled at him. "I'll let you handle this. I have things to take care of inside." She passed the gazebo, giving Megan a look of warning that the girl acknowledged with a repentant frown before moving her eyes to her father.
"Hello there."
"Hi," Megan said, moving over as he sat down beside her.
"I hear you've been playing Nancy Drew again."
She nodded her head. "Yeah."
"One of these days," Remington said, putting an arm around her and pulling her close as he tapped her button nose, "that pretty little nose of yours is going to lead you into something you can't get out of."
"I just wanted to know what was going on," she said sadly.
"You can't know everything, Megan," Remington said. "You're not *supposed* to know everything right now. If Antony being there had been something you needed to know about, your mother and I would have told you about it. As it was, -"
"It wasn't any of my business," Megan repeated, obviously having heard those words from her mother earlier. "I know. Mom's already given me the lecture."
"So. What do you think we should do about this latest infraction, eh?" he asked. When she didn't answer, he said, "No telephone for a week-" he saw her sigh. "And no TV either."
That got her attention. "But Dad. Christmas is only three days away. And Daniel and I got you-" she stopped, covering her mouth. "Oops."
Remington smiled. "If you're talking about the "Thin Man" videos, I already know about them," he told her.
"You do?" She frowned. "But- Daniel had them hidden away in his closet. How-"
Remington tugged at his ear. "I accidentally found them a couple of weeks ago when I was getting him a jacket."
"So, can I at least watch those with you? Please? I promise I've learned my lesson this time. I won't snoop anymore."
Remington laughed softly. "It's in your blood, Megan. Nothing much you can do about it, except learn to control it somewhat. All right. No telephone for a week. Deal?" he asked, holding out his hand to her.
She shook his hand. "Deal," she agreed. "Now. Why *is* Uncle Tony here? Is it because he still loves Aunt Jessica and wants to stop her from marrying Philip?"
Remington laughed out loud. "Something along those lines," he said. He looked at her. "I thought you liked Philip?" It had just struck him that although her brothers easily called Philip "uncle"; Megan did it only when speaking to him directly. Unlike Tony, who had been "Uncle Tony" ever since she'd been born.
She shrugged. "I do. It's just- I like Uncle Tony more. Philip gets this- cold look sometimes. I don't think Aunt Jessica has ever noticed it, cause he always gets it when she's not looking at him. Like he's- disconnected, you know? Not part of things?"
"You are indeed your mother's daughter, Megan," Remington sighed. He rose. "Come on. Let's go inside and get ready, shall we? And remember, not a word about Antony. Not even to your brothers. When he puts in an appearance this evening, you had no idea he was in town."
Megan's eyes widened. "He's coming here? Tonight?!"
To Be Continued---