Stranded Steele

Part Two

---

Five days later, after a swim in the cove, Remington smiled as the door closed behind Laura. He could sense her growing frustration at his apparent lack of passionate ardor.

They had spent hours swimming in the cove, exploring the island- had even danced on the veranda to music from the cabin's stereo- but Remington had forced himself to keep things light. Not that it had been easy, he reminded himself as he listened for Laura to finish in the shower - only an hour ago, as Laura had applied lotion to his back, it had taken every shred of will power he possessed not to roll over and take her into his arms.

But tonight was going to change all of that. He smiled as the shower stopped and Laura tapped on the connecting door to signal that it was clear. The smile widened as he considered the evening he had planned. Dinner, here, in the cabin, champagne, properly chilled, of course- another walk along their sandy cove, and then- when the mood was just right-

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Remington frowned, turning the water off and grabbing his robe. A glance at the clock beside his bed confirmed that it was still too early for dinner to be arriving. It was only four. He tied the belt of his robe and opened the door to the sitting room in time to see Laura, also still wearing a robe, already opening the front door to a smiling Nick.

"Miss Holt." The young man held out several slips of paper. "You have several messages from a Miss Krebs?"

Remington felt himself tense. Mildred? She had promised not to call, he reminded himself.

"Yes," Laura confirmed. "Thank you, Nick." Nick nodded in Remington's direction, then left. Laura studied the messages in silence. "She says it's urgent," she told him.

"It had better be," he said, meeting her eyes. "Are you going to call her?"

"I really think I should," she said. "It HAS to be important, right? After all, she DID promise you not to call if it wasn't, didn't she?"

"Umm, yes. She did," Remington admitted, watching her dial the telephone. He felt the need to make a last ditch effort to salvage the evening. "It's already seven there, however. You probably won't be able to reach her tonight- Why don't we wait and call her tomorrow morning," he suggested. "First thing." He sighed deeply as Laura smiled into the telephone.

"Mildred. Burning a little midnight oil, are we?"

"Oh, Miss Holt. I'm sorry to disturb your vacation- How are things going?"

"Wonderfully," Laura assured her. "Your message said it was urgent-?" she prompted.

"Oh. Yes. The Maxwell trial started today, Miss Holt."

Laura frowned, and seeing , Remington moved closer. "Today? It wasn't scheduled for another week-"

"Apparently Jerome Maxwell's attorney convince the judge to move it up- anyway, the DA wants you and Mr. Steele back here bright and early Friday morning to testify."

"We're not scheduled home until Sunday," Laura reminded her.

"I know. I- took the liberty of changing your flight reservations. You've got seats on the nine a.m. flight out of Honolulu tomorrow morning. Can you and Mr. Steele make it by then?"

"I'll have to check," Laura told her.

"Let me know what's going on," Mildred said. "If you need to change the flight, I'll take care of it."

"All right, Mildred."

"And - tell Mr. Steele that I'm really sorry -"

"I'm sure Mr. Steele will understand, Mildred," Laura said. "Good bye."

As she hung up, Remington asked, "What's going on?"

"Apparently Jerome Maxwell has decided that he wants a quick trial. The DA needs us back in Los Angeles early Friday morning to testify."

"That was next week. What happened?"

"I don't know. But I DO know that if you and I don't testify against him, he'll walk. And very likely continue victimizing innocent people who can't afford his high interest rates."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "When do we leave?"

"Our flight leaves at nine tomorrow morning. So we have to leave the island before seven." She picked up the telephone again. "I'll call Nick and ask him to make arrangements for the boat -"

Remington took the phone from her hands. "I'll do it after I shower and get dressed. I have to tell him something else as well."

Laura's expression gave nothing away as she said, "You're not going to cancel dinner this evening, I hope?"

He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I overheard you ordering dinner earlier - when I was changing into my bathing suit."

"I doubt you'd be in the proper mood now," he said. "The Maxwell case and all -"

Laura ran a finger down the lapel of his robe before heading back toward her room. "Nonsense, Mr. Steele. We have to eat, don't we?" Before entering the room, she said, "Why don't you take your shower. I'll get dressed and go talk to Nick -"

Remington smiled. "Why don't you wait until I finish," he suggested, "and we'll BOTH go?"

**********

After hearing their story, Nick shook his head sadly. "Such a pity that you must leave," he sighed. "Let me contact Charlie and find out whether he can be here tomorrow morning."

"Thank you," Remington said as he turned away. Charlie was the owner of the cabin cruiser, contracted with the hotel to ferry its guests to and from the main island of Hawaii.

The hotel kept a small boat for emergencies, but it would have taken almost three hours to get to the main island using it. Nick hung up the telephone, smiling. "Charlie wasn't there- but someone who works for him was. The boat will be here at six thirty tomorrow morning," he assured them.

**********

Remington surveyed the elegantly laid table, inspecting the silver, the vintage of the open bottle of champagne. "Laura?" he called. "Are you going to join me for dinner or not?" he asked, wishing he felt more in the mood to celebrate. Mildred's call had taken some of the shine from the evening for him.

Her bedroom door opened. "I'm right here, Mr. Steele," she said in a soft voice.

Remington looked up as he touched a match to a long, tapered candle. She'd chosen a long white sheath which set off her tan to perfection. Held up by two thin straps, it fell to the floor. It looked demure, chaste- until one noticed the long slit along one side which ended well above her knee. "Ouch!" he yelped as the flame from the still lit match got too close to his fingers. He blew it out and dropped it into an ash tray, then crossed the room to take her hand. "You look - magnificent," he said.

Laura smiled, reaching up to straighten his bow tie and smooth the lapels of his white dinner jacket. "You don't look too bad yourself, Mr. Steele."

As he led her toward the table, he glanced again at the length of leg revealed by the dress. "I don't recall ever seeing that dress before."

"Oh, I bought it months ago on a whim. Just never had any reason to wear it."

"Well, I'm glad you found a reason tonight," he told her, handing her a fluted glass of champagne. "What shall we drink to?"

"Us?" she suggested.

"To us it is, then," he said, lifting his glass to hers.

**********

"Laura, do you ever think about the future?" Remington asked as they sat on a blanket atop the silvery white sand.

"The future?" she asked.

"Where you want to be five- ten years from now," he said.

"I suppose I have," she said slowly. "I guess I'll still be doing what I'm doing now -"

"What about YOU? Personally? Laura Holt? What do you see for her?" He turned that blue gaze on her full force as he spoke, giving her no quarter for retreat.

"Personally? I don't know. I guess it would- depend -"

"On what?"

"On whether or not you're still around," she told him.

Remington ran a finger up her arm to her shoulder, lingering at the strap of her dress, before following the curve of her neck to lift her chin. "I'm not planning on going anywhere, Laura. I signed on for the duration - "

"You've said yourself that you -"

"That was the OLD me, Laura," he insisted. "The man I was before I became Remington Steele. I know that you want to know who I was in that life- but I don't think you would have liked him very much."

"He couldn't have been that bad. After all, Daniel Chalmers saw SOMETHING in him to make him think there was something worth salvaging."

Remington sighed, his finger starting to move again, pausing once more on her shoulder to move lightly down her arm. She shivered, and without a word, he pulled off his dinner jacket and placed it around her shoulders before responding to her words. "Daniel saw the potential for a partner, Laura. Someone he could teach to do what he did."

"He's very fond of you, Remington," she said. "Why else would he forever be trying to lure you back into that life?"

"Daniel and I were a good team," he admitted. "While we were together - it seemed as though very little could stop us. But the only team I'm interested in being on now is this one. We're good together. Professionally - AND personally, I think." His fingertip was on her shoulder again, and this time it followed the strap to the top of the dress where it lay just above her breasts. "Can you deny that?"

"No- No, I can't," she said, pausing to regain her equilibrium. "It's just that-"

"That you're afraid to trust me," he said.

"It's not YOU," she said, placing a hand on the white silk of his shirt, fingering the ends of his bow tie. "It's -"

Remington pulled her close to him. "Your father. And Wilson," he said. Laura nodded against his chest. "I wish I could give you the promise that you want to hear, Laura. But I can't. No one could. The future is too- intangible, too prone to changes that we know nothing about today." He lifted her face to his. "But I WILL promise you that I'll do everything in my power to stay right here, by your side, for as long as you want me to." He lowered his lips to hers, sealing his promise. Slowly, he lowered Laura back onto the blanket as they kissed, then lifted himself to look down at her. "You are so beautiful, Laura."

"I have a mirror, Mr. Steele," she reminded him. "I'm not a tall, long-legged blonde-"

"I don't WANT a tall, long-legged blonde," he insisted. "I'm much more partial to petite brunettes with upturned brown eyes and dimples."

"Dimples?" Laura questioned, smiling in spite of herself.

Remington placed a kiss on the aforementioned dimples. "Yes. Your dimples," he confirmed, his lips moving up to her eyes and across her brow before he settled back onto the blanket, pulling her head onto his chest. "This is nice, isn't it?" he asked.

"Mmmm," she agreed, feeling his heart beat beneath her ear. "Nice." Remington's hand moved down to lay possessively on her hip, and Laura heard herself ask, "I wonder why Jerome Maxwell's trial was moved up? I mean, his lawyer has been getting continuance after continuance for MONTHS. Now, all of a sudden, he wants an IMMEDIATE trial. Why?"

Remington pulled away and sat up. "You've done it again."

"What?"

"Brought a case between us." He stood up, and held down his hand to her. "It's getting late. I need to pack my case -"

Laura frowned as she took his hand. Why had she done it? she wondered. The two of them had been closer than they'd been all week - and with just a few words, she'd managed to send them right back to square one. "I'm sorry -" He picked up the blanket, shaking the sand from it, not talking. Laura sputtered as she found herself sprayed with the fine particles. "I SAID I was sorry," she reminded him as he turned back toward the path. Laura grabbed his arm. "What more can I say?" she asked.

He paused, running a hand though his dark hair. "Look, Laura, it just seems to me that lately, whenever I've been willing to discuss this, you've taken great pains to erect a wall between us using the agency, or a case- or my past. I hoped this week would give us a chance to break through that wall - that a week away from cases and telephones would weaken your defenses -"

"You mean like your little ACT that you weren't interested?" Laura asked.

"All right, maybe I wasn't playing entirely fair," he admitted. "But *I* want us to be together. I just wish I believed that YOU want the same thing."

"Of COURSE I do!" Laura raged. "If Mildred hadn't called about the trial, -" she stopped, uncertain about continuing.

Remington looked at her. "Go on."

Laura took a deep breath. "We would probably still be down there on the beach, in each other's arms," she admitted.

"Really?" he asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Yes. Look at it this way, Mr. Steele," she suggested, reaching out to touch his arm. "It will give us something to look forward to NEXT time."

Remington shook his head slowly, beginning to smile again. "At least you're admitting that there will BE a next time," he said, placing his arm across her shoulders. "It's a start, anyway."

**********

Nick drove them down to the dock where the white cabin cruiser was waiting. The man who stood on deck wasn't Charlie. Charlie was a native Hawaiian. This man was tall, with blonde hair and grey eyes that were constantly moving about. "Mr. Steele," he said, helping them on deck as their luggage was placed nearby. "Miss Holt."

Nick looked closely at the man. "Where is Charlie?" he asked.

"He had some personal business to attend to," the man said, then held out his hand. "Name's Jim. Just started working for Charlie two days ago."

"Guess that explains why I've never seen you before," Nick commented.

"Yeah, well- been bummin' round this part of the world for years. Never stay long in one place, if you know what I mean." He grinned at his passengers as he fastened the rail gate and turned toward the ladder to the bridge. "Find yourselves a place," he told them, "and we'll get underway. Wouldn't want to risk your being late for your flight, would we?"

Laura and Remington waved goodbye to Nick, then watched in silence as Devonshire Island faded into the distance. Once they were underway, Laura moved off to find some coffee in the cabin before rejoining Remington at the rail. Handing him a cup, she said, "You've been awfully quiet this morning, Mr. Steele."

He gave her a half grin. "Oh, you know me. Not much of a morning person." He put an arm around her shoulders. "I'd much rather still be lying in bed, listening to the birds and the surf on the beach in the cove."

Laura smiled in silent agreement- but the smile faded as the boat's engines fell silent. "Mr. Steele?" she said, looking up at him. He had turned and was peering with eyes narrowed against the morning sun at the bridge.

"Jim's not up there," he told her. Looking around, he said, "We're off course." He pointed to a small island just off the bow of the boat. "That island wasn't there on the trip out."

"Very astute, Mr. Steele," Jim said, causing them to turn toward the sound of his voice. "The boss said you might notice a course change if I wasn't careful. Had to do it gradually."

"Let me guess," Laura said with a sneer, "the 'boss' is Jerome Maxwell. He found out we were out of town and got the trial moved up so he could waylay us -!"

Remington pulled her back, nodding to the gun in Jim's hand. "Not a good idea, Laura," he warned.

"I'd listen to him, Miss Holt."

"Why? You're going to kill us anyway," she said.

"Really, Miss Holt. Mr. Maxwell isn't a murderer-"

"No," Laura agreed. "He's a blood sucking loan shark who feeds off of those less fortunate."

"My orders weren't to kill you," Jim told her. "Just to delay you for a while. Long enough for Mr. Maxwell to be found not guilty."

"So we're just going to-stay here?" Remington asked.

"I'd like to," Jim said. "But the boat would be too easy to find." He nodded toward the island. "You and Miss Holt will swim to that island over there. I've left enough supplies to last at least two weeks."

"And after that?"

"Someone will be along to rescue you."

"Charlie will know that he didn't send anyone to pick us up," Laura said. "They'll be looking for you."

"Ah, but why look for a dead man?" He chuckled at their confusion. "As soon as you two are off the boat, I'll take her out a ways to where I've got another boat waiting. The 'Sea Rose' will be lost at sea due to an unexplained explosion. No survivors."

"No- Why you -" Laura dove toward Jim before Remington could stop her.

"Laura!" Remington said as Jim back handed her, then held the gun on Remington again. Remington knelt beside the stunned woman, inspecting the trickle of blood coming from her forehead near the hairline. "Laura?"

She nodded. "I'm all right."

Remington lifted his eyes to Jim, who moved a step back at the look in them. "I wouldn't try it, Mr. Steele. There's a first aid kit with the supplies on the island - but I doubt they'd be very helpful for a bullet wound." He moved cautiously around to the railing as Remington assisted Laura to her feet. He opened the gate and tossed out the rope ladder. "Now, it's time we said our farewells, I'm afraid." He moved back, motioning them toward the opening with the gun.

"She's got a concussion!" Remington told him with deadly emphasis. "She can't swim to that island-"

"Then it's a good thing she's got you along to help her, isn't it?" Jim commented. "NOW, Mr. Steele."

"I can make it," Laura said, letting him help her onto the ladder.

Remington followed a moment later, joining her in the water. Jim pulled the ladder up, and then closed the gate. "I'd start swimming if I were you. Sharks."

"You should be right at home, then," Laura yelled back.

Jim laughed and climbed the steps to the bridge, starting the engines and turning the boat out to sea.

"Come on, Laura," Remington said, and waited to see her begin swimming toward the island before following her.

To Be Continued ---

---

[Back] [Home] [CaseBook] [E-Mail] [Next]

Original content © 1999 by Nancy Eddy