Stressed Steele

Episode 4

by Nancy Eddy

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Various papers were spread over the dining room table along with roughly drawn plans of Yates' property. Steele hoped his memory was still as good for this kind of thing as it used to be. It had been a while since he had planned something like this. The telephone rang, and he moved quickly to pick it up. "Steele here."
"Steele, it's John Harris," he said shortly. "Yates made me. He knows I'm in town."
Steele sat down. "What happened?"
"I was standing across from Miss Holt's apartment building, watching the place - when Yates arrived to pick her up. He didn't see me until they were getting into the car - I turned and walked away, but I'm pretty sure he recognized me."
Damn. "Very well. You get back to the motel and lay low. I'll take care of keeping an eye on Miss Holt." Although how he was going to accomplish that, he had no idea.
"Sorry, Steele."
"I'll talk to you tomorrow. Say, couldn't Miss Krebbs stay with her? I mean, she'd probably trust a woman more than-"
"Mildred had to go out of town," Steele said. "Family emergency." He wasn't certain why he didn't tell Harris that she was in Tucson. Perhaps it was Laura's insistence that Harris might be more involved than he claimed. He needed to get to know the man better. "Have you had dinner, Harris?"
"Not yet - I was going to check out the MacDonald's across the street-"
Steele frowned at the thought. "Nonsense. I'll fix something here so we can develop a plan to stop Yates."
"Sounds good to me."
"I'll have my driver pick you up." Steele hung up, then called Fred before going into the kitchen to find something that he could reheat. There was no way he going to waste his culinary skill on someone who intended to dine at a fast food franchise.

Laura waited until they were seated at the table and the waitress had moved away before asking, "Why does this man think you killed his father?"
"He doesn't think I KILLED him, Laura. Only that I caused his death. He committed suicide." Taking her hand, Trevor smiled. "Not very good dinner conversation. All these questions-"
She shrugged. "One of the hazards of being a detective," she admitted. "I just want to understand, Trevor."
He sat back. "To do that, I have to go back to my first year in Tucson. Rachel and I were already married- and her father gave me a new client. His company's books were a mess- and the only reason he was there at all was because the board of directors that he answered to had insisted he get some help. I did what I could, but the IRS came in for a surprise audit - and discovered that he'd been embezzling funds from the company for years. They got a warrant and went to pick him up - but he was already dead."
"And his son blames you for that?"
Trevor nodded as the waitress returned to take their order. He waited until they were alone again. "He came into the office a few days later, insisting that it was my fault somehow. I never understood why he thought I could have cleared up years of theft in a few months, but -he said he'd ruin me just like I ruined his father."
"And you didn't call the police?"
"I didn't see any reason to. He was simply a distraught man, upset over losing his only parent. I thought he would calm down and forget all about it. I certainly did. And I never saw him again. Until the night-" He paused, looking away for a moment. "Until the night Rachel was killed."
"When he turned up as the homicide detective assigned to the case," Laura said. She reached across to cover his hand. "He should never had taken the case at all- even if he didn't kill her. There was no way he could have been impartial -"
Trevor turned his hand to hold hers. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Being you, I suppose."
He glanced up, releasing her hand as the waitress arrived with their food. He put his hand in his pocket. "Rats."
Laura looked up from her plate. "Trevor?"
"I left something at the house that I wanted to give you. Tell you what, if you don't mind, after dinner we'll drive out there and I'll get it before taking you home."
She grinned. "You mean I'm finally going to see where you live? I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Harris studied the plans Steele had made while he finished the soup that his host had heated. "You'll never get past those cameras, Steele," Harris pointed out. "They're all over the place. I checked the place out the first day I was here."
Steele put a cup of coffee before Harris, then sat down across from him. "Had you met Yates before his wife's death?"
"Once," he responded quickly. "But only for a few minutes. And I'd never met Rachel Yates." His eyes took on a far off look. "But I wouldn't have minded knowing her." He seemed to shake himself mentally. "I've been accused of being obsessed by her."
"LAURA," Steele said. "Gene Tierney, Dana Andrews, 1944." When Harris frowned, Steele shrugged. "A police detective finds himself slowly becoming obsessed by the woman who's apparent murder he is investigating."
Harris nodded. "I've seen it. Guess it does kinda describe me, doesn't it?"
"You said that Rachel Yates had a drug problem. What kind of drugs?"
"Pain killers, tranquilizers - things like that."
"Prescriptions drugs," Steele confirmed. "Did you question her doctor?"
"Of course I did. But he refused to tell me anything."
"Why?"
"Rachel's father again. I told you that everyone in Tucson thought that Yates walked on air. It wasn't so much Yates as it was his father in law. Trouble was, the man deserved it. He was a really nice old guy. He never suspected that his thoughtful son in law, who went to such great lengths to protect him and his reputation could possibly have been responsible for Rachel's death." He finished his coffee and stood up to wander around the room as Steele watched. He paused at the photograph of Laura that Steele had on a table. Picking it up, Harris shook his head. "I still can't get over it. She looks so much like Rachel. Except for the hair - and Rachel was really a brunette. Must have been a real shock for Yates, too."
Steele cleared his throat, and Harris returned the frame to the table. "We need to work on this plan."
Nodding, the ex-policeman returned to the table. "How are you going to keep an eye on Miss Holt now that Yates knows I'm in town?"
"I think I have something in mind that will work," Steele said. "But I don't want to discuss it just yet."
"Might jinx it, hmm?"
"Something like that."

Laura's eyes widened as Trevor turned the car and opened the gate that led through the wrought iron fence. "You live HERE?" she asked.
"I'm just leasing it at the moment, but I might buy it. It depends on how things go." He brought the car to a stop before the double front doors and got out, coming around to open her door for her. He unlocked the front door and stepped aside to let her enter the house before him.
He took her to the living room, turning on a light. "Stay here. I'll be right back."
Laura nodded, then moved around the room. She couldn't sense Trevor here. The house must have come furnished, she decided as the sound of footsteps sounded on the parquet floor in the entryway. She looked up and saw a small Mexican woman staring at her. The woman's eyes widened, and her hand moved to cross herself as she began to mutter in Spanish so rapidly that Laura couldn't follow. The only thing she caught was a word that MIGHT have been "ghost" or "spirit" as Trevor returned. "Mrs. Gonzales. I didn't realize you were still up-"
The woman's eyes moved to Laura, and he put his arm around her and led her into the entryway, talking softly to her. Laura crept closer to the door, hoping to hear some of the conversation, but before she got to the door, Trevor returned. "Is she all right?"
"I think so. She doesn't speak very much English, I'm afraid. She's the housekeeper," he explained. "She wasn't expecting to see anyone in the room."
"She acted as if I were a ghost," Laura commented.
Trevor took her arm to steer her toward the front doors. "Let's go to your place for a nightcap," he suggested. "I got what I came for," he told her, patting his pocket.
He was nervous, Laura decided as she got into the car. She saw the security cameras around the grounds, and pointed to one. "Whoever used to live here must have valued their privacy."
"In this area, most of the houses have elaborate security systems."
"I had no idea that you could afford-"
"I was the only beneficiary of my late father in law's will," he explained.
"Oh."

Steele joined Harris as Fred returned the man to his motel, assuring him that he would handle keeping an eye on Laura, not to fret. He suggested that Harris keep an eye on Yates- as long as he didn't do anything that might give the man reason to have him arrested. "I'll do my best, Steele," Harris told him. "But I've been walking that fine line for ten years- I'm not sure I can stop now."
"Just watch yourself."
Steele had watched him into his room, then told Fred to take him to the block where Laura's apartment was located before sending the limo on its way. He would take a cab home later. He stood on the street for a long moment, seeing that the windows of the loft were dark. He knew he could gain entrance via the fire- escape. He'd done it before. But there was no need for that. He smiled, feeling the keys in his hand as he moved toward the front door and the stairs that would take him up to Laura's apartment.

He saw the flowers on the table and smiled. At least she hadn't trashed them, he thought. He found a yellow legal pad on the floor beside the sofa and bent to pick it up. Scanning the words written in Laura's familiar handwriting, he smiled. So she was beginning to see that something wasn't right as well. He was still looking at the pad when he heard voices in the hall beyond the door and began to search for a place to hide. Laura's voice wasn't the only one he could hear. Trevor Yates' deeper voice mingled with hers. Leaping toward the raised bedroom area, he took the stairs quickly and slipped behind the curtain just as the front door opened.

Laura slid open the door and knew immediately that someone had been in the loft. The yellow legal pad that she had been writing on earlier had and had tossed to the floor was now on the sofa. And there was something else. A man's cologne. And she recognized the scent. But at the moment, she wanted to keep Trevor from seeing that legal pad, so she removed her jacket and placed it over the notepad, effectively hiding it. "Now. What was so important that we had to go to Brentwood, Trevor?" she asked softly, moving to pour them each a drink.
When she sat down, Trevor sat beside her. "This," he said, pulling a small box from his pocket. "I know I probably shouldn't, but- "
Laura took the velvet box. "You're right," she said, "Trevor-"
He shook his head. "Just open it before you say anything."
She lifted the lid to reveal two diamond earrings - from her association with Mr. Steele, she could tell they were valuable. "I can't accept something like this, Trevor," she insisted. "You shouldn't have -"
"But they're perfect for you, Laura," he said. He took one of them from the box, and held it to her ear lobe. "Absolutely perfect. Almost as if they were made for you." When she would have spoken again, Trevor placed a hand to her lips. "Don't refuse them, Laura. Please? Allow me to do this -"
Laura removed the small gold hoops she had worn for the evening and put on the diamond earrings. "There. How do they look?"
"It's not how they look, Laura," he said. "It's how YOU look with them on. And you're beautiful -" He leaned close to her, and Laura tilted her head as she moved to meet him. She closed her eyes as her lips met his. There was no pressure, no insistence that there be anything more than this, and Laura opened her eyes to see a shadow of movement behind the curtain that blocked off her bedroom from the rest of the loft. He was THERE! Trevor pulled back to look at her. "Laura?"
She smiled at him, hoping he couldn't tell how furious she was. "I don't know how I'm ever going to thank you for these," she said, reaching up to touch the jewels.
"I don't want thanks," he said.
"Would you like some more wine?" she asked.
"It's late. And I have to meet with Mr. Andrews early again."
"You don't HAVE to go, Trevor," she said, following him to the door.
He leaned down to kiss her again. "I'm not going to rush you, Laura. We've only just met - although at times it seems that I've known you all my life." He brushed her lips with his thumb. "Good night."
"Good night," she said.
"Keep an eye out for Harris. If you see him again, call me. I might be forced to involve the local police in this to keep him away from you."
"I will. You be careful as well."
"Always." He opened the door. "I'll call you tomorrow."
Laura remained in the open doorway until he was down the second flight of stairs, then slid it closed, turning the lock. She stood in the center of the living area, her eyes on the curtain. "He's gone, Mr. Steele," she announced. "You can come out now."
The curtain slid aside to reveal a slightly uncertain Steele. "How long have you known I was here?"
She smiled, lifting her head slightly. "I don't think I'm going to tell you. How did you get in here?"
He held up the key. "You gave it to me, remember?"
Laura held out her hand. "Well I want it back now."
He'd expected that. He placed the key into her hand, but kept hold of it when she would have pulled back. His other hand moved to take her chin, turning her head. "Nice. Quarter carat each, I'd say. Worth well over-"
Laura pulled away from his hold. "I don't care to hear your appraisal," she told him. "I just want you to leave-"
"Before you hear what I came to tell you?"
"I don't want to hear anymore of your lies about Trevor, Mr. Steele."
"This isn't about Trevor Yates," he told her. "I need you to come back to the office."
"Why? There's nothing going on that you and Mildred can't handle-"
"But Mildred's not there."
Laura looked at him. "Why? Don't tell me she walked out on you too."
Steele sighed. "No. Right after you left, she got a telephone call from her sister."
"The one in Detroit?"
"Yes. Something's going on- and she wanted Mildred to come out there right away- so we hired a temporary -"
"And you have no idea how to handle her, I bet."
"She's hopeless, Laura. The girl can barely answer a telephone. Much less file a folder. If you aren't there to make certain she doesn't destroy Mildred's filing system -"
Laura wasn't buying it at all. "That doesn't explain why you came here tonight. You could just as easily have called -"
"I thought I'd be able to convince you to come back face to face-"
"You thought you'd be able to work that Irish charm on me and con me into coming back," she said, picking up the telephone.
"Who are you calling?"
"Mildred. If she's a home and this is another of your little scams-"
"Go ahead," he told her, sitting down. "Call. She's somewhere in Detroit. She's supposed to call in tomorrow to let me know how long she's going to be gone."
Laura gave him a doubting look as she finished dialing the number. But that look changed as the other phone continued to ring. She hung up. "Alright, she's not home."
"I told you, she's out of town."
There was no way that Laura would leave him alone in that office to deal with things without Mildred there at least, to keep an eye on him. "Alright. I'll come back - but only if you agree to a few ground rules."
"Really, Laura - Is that necessary? I give you my word that I won't say anything else detrimental to your friend Yates."
"What about your investigation?"
"I won't stop it- but I won't bother you with any of the details," he told her.
"Not even the fact that your ex-homicide detective friend Harris had a motive to kill Rachel Yates?" she asked.
Steele frowned. "What motive?"
"I bet he didn't bother to tell you that he holds Trevor responsible for his father's death, did he?"
"No," Steele said slowly. "He didn't. I'm sure he can explain-"
"I'm sure he can. Just as he explained that he hadn't killed Rachel, but that Trevor had. I think you need to do a little digging into Harris' background, Mr. Steele."
"That was already my intention, Laura," he told her.
She sat down. "Thank you for the roses," she said at last. "But a think two dozen was a bit over the top."
"I knew he was sending you roses by the dozen," Steele admitted with an easy smile. "I thought I could do him one better." He reached out to touch one of the glittering earrings. "But I don't think I can top that." His smile faded. "Why did you accept them, Laura?"
"Is there some reason why I shouldn't have?" she asked.
"Are you in love with him?"
Laura moved away. "I don't know."
"I thought that you and I had something worth working on, something that might - one day-"
"So did I- sometimes I still do. Sometimes, I think we're finally getting close - and then it's as if we're back to that day when you came into my life as Special Agent Ben Pearson- and I realize that I don't know anything about you - about where you came from, your life before - Why you're still here-"
"So we're back to that, are we?" Steele shook his head. "Oh, Laura. I wish I could answer all your questions. But the only one I can answer truthfully is the last one. I'm here because you're here. That's all that matters. Or should matter, anyway." His hand reached out again to curve around her neck, to pull her toward him, his lips closing over hers.
Laura felt his desire start to overwhelm her as it always did. She didn't want him to end the kiss, to move away - and when he did, she bit back a whimper of protest. There had been nothing sweet, or calm about his kiss. It was as different from Trevor's almost chaste salute as night was from day. Laura shied away from those thoughts. Comparing the two men wasn't fair to either of them. "Mr. Steele-"
"You wrote Remington on the note pad," he reminded her, still close. "I don't suppose you'd consider letting me sleep here tonight-"
"Mr. Steele-"
"On the sofa," he finished. "I sent Fred home- and getting a cab this time of night -"
"Isn't that difficult for the great Remington Steele," Laura pointed out. She held out the telephone. "Make the call."
He shook his head, his blue eyes sparkling in the light. "I can't believe that you would put me out, Laura-" he sighed, but he dialed the number and requested a cab be sent to Laura's address. "Why not come with me?" he suggested, and Laura smiled.
"You're nothing if not persistent, Mr. Steele," she said, pulling him toward the door. Once there, she turned to face him. "But I just consider it to be one of your many charms."
Steele braced his arms on the metal door behind her. "One? You mean there are more?"
"A few," she said grudgingly. "A few."
His eyes darkened as he lowered his lips to hers again. When he lifted his head, he told her, "And if you're thinking that I'm still here because we haven't - been together yet, Laura. You're wrong. I've never put this much time into any relationship in my entire life. So there HAS to be more to it than the physical, right?" He grasped the door and slid it open. "Lock the door behind me. Don't let anyone in that you don' t know."
"You forget that I can take care of myself, Mr. Steele," Laura reminded him coolly.
"Of course you can, Laura. I just don't want you to have to. I'll see you in the morning." He blew her a kiss. "Ciao."
She watched him leave as she had watched Trevor earlier, then closed the door and turned the locks. She really should be angry with him for being here without her permission. But every time she looked into those eyes, her anger seemed to melt away to nothing. Sighing, she went to the window overlooking the street in time to see him glance up at her before climbing into a cab. "One of these days, Remington Steele," she promised softly. "One of these days."

Steele silently congratulated himself as the cab moved away from the curb. Things had gone better than he had hoped. Now, he just had to get to Mildred before she could call and Laura found out that he hadn't been entirely truthful. Laura would forgive him for it - once she realized that he had done it to save her life. At least - he hoped she would. And he had to talk to John Harris about what Laura had told him. Leaning forward, he told the driver to take him to the motel where Harris was staying.