Stressed Steele

Episode 8

by Nancy Eddy

"I TOLD you that I wouldn't be available today," Trevor said into the telephone as Laura sat across the room on the sofa.

She wasn't really paying very close attention to what he was saying. Her mind was filled with other things- last night's attack, the scene this morning with Remington when he'd said goodbye. Trevor had arrived a few hours later and insisted that he drive her to Dr. Franklin and make certain she was all right. Then he decided that he would bring her here to keep an eye on her, make sure she took her medicine when she was supposed to.

Laura would have preferred to go back to the loft - or go into the office. She should be there if Remington was REALLY gone- she sighed heavily, knowing that he was. His goodbye had been pretty final.

Trevor hung up the telephone, smiling apologetically. "Looks as though I have to go out for a while."

"How long?" Laura asked. It still hurt to talk, even the simple act of swallowing was painful.

Seeing her wince, Trevor took the bottle of pills from his pocket and took two out before pouring her a glass of spring water from the bar. "An hour," he said in answer to her question. He brought the water and pills across to her. "Here you go."

"I don't-" she started to say, shaking her head.

"I know your throat hurts like hell. Just humor me, okay?"

Under his watchful eye, Laura placed the capsules into her mouth, then took a drink of water. When he turned to take the glass back to the bar, she quickly spit them into her hand and stuffed them under the cushion of the couch. "Why do you have to go?" she asked in her raspy whisper.

"Andrews' audit didn't go well. He insists that I go over and discuss it with him. I'll set the survellience system when I go so no one will be able to get in -" He smiled at her. "You'll be safe here," he assured her.

"No need," she forced out. "Harris- in jail."

"I'll set the gate alarm at least." He touched her cheek. "You just lay here on the sofa and sleep. I'll be back before you know it."

Laura curled up and closed her eyes. "Uh-mmm"

Trevor bent to place a light kiss on her lips. "I'll be right back," he promised. "Pleasant dreams, dearest Laura."

She heard him leave the house, then heard his car engine fading into the distance. After a few minutes, she sat up and looked around. Ever since Trevor had brought her here this morning, she'd felt trapped. She couldn't explain why she felt that way, but the feeling was there, none the less.

Perhaps it was just that Remington had been so certain in his suspicion of Trevor. She rose and moved slowly from the room, investigating her gilded cage. She started to call the office, but realized that it was almost six. No one would be there now. And there was no one else she could call. Putting her self-pity on hold, Laura decided that it was time to explore the upstairs regions.

She found Trevor's room, it was the only bedroom that appeared to be occupied. Entering, she found the light switch in the rapidly falling darkness. She inspected the room, then turned to the small fireplace. Over the mantle was a painting of a woman. Blonde hair, brown eyes- but it was HER face. So Remington hadn't been lying about her resemblance to Rachel Yates. At last she dropped her eyes to the table near the bed, finding an open scrapbook.

On the open page was the newspaper interview that she and Remington had done in New York- the photograph had been of both of them- but Yates had cut it out so that only Laura was in the picture. She flipped through the scrapbook. Other news photos- most with Remington cut out. Sitting on the bed, Laura shook her head. He'd been right. Remington had been right after all. And he'd never know - not unless she found a way out of here alive.

"I wasn't ready for you to see that yet," Trevor said from the doorway. The scrapbook fell to the floor. "Pick it up," he ordered.

Laura did as he told her, rising to her feet. "Didn't hear car-" she said.

"Because it's not here. It's broken down on the side of the road - I've already called Andrews- told him that I'm going to be a little late. I jumped the fence to get in -" He was steadily coming closer. "You didn't take the pills, did you?" he asked, close enough now to touch her.

"Didn't need them," she said. "Wasn't Harris. It was YOU," she said, angered by the fit of coughing that her words brought on.

"I told you not to talk too much, Laura," Trevor admonished, pulling her from the bedroom as a signal came from the call box at the gate. "Ah. Company." He drug her downstairs to the telephone. "Hello?"

"It's John Harris, Yates."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm leaving LA. Before I go, we need to talk."

Yates gave him a code. "Leave the cab at the gate, tell him to go on. The front door is unlocked. And remember that I'll be watching you all the way up."

Laura remembered that he'd told her that he was only going to set the gate alarm. Unless he'd done it on his return, he hadn't restored the video surveillance. She tried to run, but Yates grabbed her, dragging her toward the living room. He drew a silk tie from his pocket. "I kept this one as a souvenir. I suppose I'll have to use it now."

She felt him loop the tie around her neck, and she started fighting back. She was angry. Angry that he'd deceived her, angry that Remington had left when he'd been right all along. Her anger kept her fighting until she heard another voice in the room. "Leave her alone, Yates," Harris said calmly.

Yates turned, the tie still around Laura's neck. He put one arm around that neck, his hand wrapped in the tie, and with the other hand revealed a small handgun that had been in his pocket. "Sorry, Harris. I can't do that. This time, there's not going to be any doubt that you're the killer." Laura sputtered, tried to kick Yates. "I had to go out for awhile, and you took advantage of Steele bailing you out of jail to come here and finish what you started last night. I walked in, too late to save dear Laura - but in time to fatally shoot you -" He took aim at Harris as his arm tightened around Laura's neck.

"You won't get away with it, Yates. There aren't enough people here to cover for you- no one to use get people to lie the way you used Rachel's father."

"I won't need it. You were arrested last night for trying to kill Laura - and her friend Steele got you released so you could finish the job. I just happened to be here to put an end to it."

"You're insane," Harris said, maneuvering around so that Yates' back was to the door.

 

Steele had managed to dodge the surveillance cameras, and as he approached the house, he could hear Harris and Yates talking. Glancing in the window, he saw Yates with his arm around Laura's neck, saw the ends of the necktie dangling from his hand, saw as well the gun in his other hand. If Harris could continue to distract him - He snuck into the house through the still open front door as Yates' back came near the doorway. Another few steps -

"Why did you kill Rachel, Yates?"

"She was going to tell her father the truth about the accident."

"There wasn't another car, was there? You caused the accident hoping to kill Rachel and the baby."

"Rachel knew I didn't want kids. Not for a long time- if ever. I told her that in the beginning- but she didn't listen to me. When I found out she was pregnant, I wanted her to get rid of it - but she defied me."

"So you tried to kill her, and when that didn't work, you kept her so doped up on pain killers and tranquilizers that she couldn't tell anyone the truth."

"She would have ruined everything, don't you understand?"

"So why kill Laura?" Harris asked.

Yates blinked, glancing quickly down at the dark hair. "She's not Laura. She's Rachel. Come back to exact justice. But I'll be the one to exact something. Not her."

Harris met Laura's wide eyes, then glanced quickly behind her, hoping she would get the message without alerting Yates. She looked confused. "She's not Rachel, Yates. Rachel's dead. You killed her, remember? You left the office and came home and killed her and then went back to establish an alibi. Laura's not Rachel."

Yates' arm tightened, pulling the tie against Laura's neck. She gasped and her knees buckled as something hit Yates from behind, knocking her to the floor as Harris rushed Yates.

The two men struggled for a moment before the gun went off and Laura found herself beneath a heavy weight. Someone lifted Yates from her as the sound of police sirens filled the night, and Laura found herself looking into a pair of deep blue eyes. "Laura? Are you all right?" he asked, his voice shaking with fear.

She smiled, lifting a hand to touch his cheek. "You came back," she whispered.

He shook his head. "How could I possibly leave the only good thing that's ever happened to me?" he asked.

"Trevor?" she asked, turning her head.

"He's dead," Steele told her, helping her to her feet as another familiar face came into view.

"Miss Holt?" Mildred asked, coming to help the younger woman to the sofa. "You okay, honey?"

"Ribs- hurt -" she said.

"I'll get the paramedics," Mildred offered, aware that Steele was probably not going to let Laura out of his sight for some time.

Jarvis came over with Harris. "Looks as if you were right, Steele." He smiled shyly at Laura. "You are one lucky lady, you know that?"

Laura smiled in return. "I know." She looked at Harris. "I'm sorry-"

"No need, Miss Holt. I'm just glad you're okay. When I realized how much you looked like Rachel, I knew what he was planning to do. It just took some time to convince the right people."

"You certainly convinced Mildred," Jarvis told him. "I don't think she doubted you for a second," he said, smiling as that lady returned with the paramedic, who shooed everyone away while he examined Laura.

Standing nearby, Steele said a silent prayer of thanks that she was alive. He wouldn't have to give her up after all. The paramedic suggested they transport her to the hospital for x-rays, citing the possibility of a cracked rib. Laura croaked a refusal, her eyes meeting Steele's. Steele went to sit beside her. "I'll stay with her tonight," he told the young man. "If she gets worse, I'll see that she gets to the hospital."

"All right, Mr. Steele." He grinned, then packed up his bag.

"Are we free to go, Jarvis?" Steele asked.

"I'll need Miss Holt's statement about what happened here tonight- and both of yours as well," he told Harris. "But I can wait until tomorrow."

Steele helped Laura to her feet, with Mildred on the other side. "Let's go, Mildred."

"Where to, Chief?" Mildred asked as they got into the car that was parked outside.

"Miss Holt's loft, I think."

Mildred hovered like a mother hen for almost an hour before Steele convinced her that she was only aggravating Laura. "Why don't you go on home?" he suggested gently. "You've had a long day as well. We'll see you at the office tomorrow."

She glanced at the bed where Laura was propped up, noting her silent agreement. "If you say so, Mr. Steele. But if you need me, hon," she told Laura, "you just call."

"Thank you, Mildred." Her throat felt like sandpaper that had been gone over with MORE sandpaper. She watched as Remington escorted the portly woman to the door and listened as they spoke softly as he reassured her once again that Laura would be fine before closing the door. He came back up the circular stairs to the bedroom.

"Anything I can get for you?"

Laura lifted her hand. "Just you, Remington," she said, then regretted it as she coughed, aggravating her throat even more.

Remington took her hand, sitting down on the edge of the bed with great care. "Maybe we should have taken you to the hospital," he said.

"No. I'll - be fine." She picked up the glass of water on the table beside her and took a few sips. "Thank you for staying," she whispered.

He kissed her knuckles. "I was going to go. All my things were packed, the reservations made. But I couldn't. I guess I've realized that I can't run anymore. I'm in this for the long haul, Laura." He bent forward to kiss her lips, and Laura felt that familiar electric current that brought every nerve ending in her body to vibrant life. When he rose from the bed, pulling her covers around her, she frowned.

"Where -"

He grinned. "I thought I'd take the couch. Get some sleep." He took her hand again as she held it out, kissing it, before moving to draw the curtain to give her some privacy before going downstairs.

Laura lay there for a long time, thinking about her Mr. Steele. He'd come back for her. To save her life. And he hadn't even said "I told you so."

"Oh, Laura?" his voice wafted through the curtain from where he lay on the sofa. "Maybe next time you'll listen to me when I tell you someone's not right for you."

She smiled. He was never going to change. And wasn't that one of the things she loved so much about him?

Steele laid there in the darkness, wondering if he'd made the right decision. After what had happened, there was no way he could tell Laura about the letter he'd received from Immigration, asking for an interview to answer some questions. No, he'd handle it on his own, and hope he could keep her out of it. It was a long time before he fell asleep.