Mildred
as already at her desk when Steele entered the agency office the
next morning. She looked up from the papers on her desk and smiled
in greeting. "Good morning, Cheif. Where's Mrs. Steele?"
"She had something to attend to, Mildred," he said,
his tone distracted. "Is there some coffee?"
"Sure," she said. "I'll bring it right in."
Something about his face concerned her. Entering his office, with
the coffee, she found him at the window, hands in his pockets.
"Here you go." She put the coffee on his desk, then
hesitated. "Mr. Steele, is- something wrong? You seem upset-"
"An old friend of mine was murdered last night, Mildred,"
he told her quietly. "See if you can get Jessica on the telephone
- and if a Lt. Hansen arrives, send him in."
"Right away, Chief," she said, returning to her office.
She was looking at the morning mail when Tony came in. "Hello,
Mildred -" and started toward his office, obviously not wanting
to talk.
"Hold it right there, "Mildred said in her best drill
sargent's voice. "Weren't you supposed to be-"
Before she could say anything more, Steele came out of his office.
"Mildred ,- Ah, Antony. Just the man I was looking for. Come
in."
Tony gave Mildred a big grin. "Could you get me a cup of
coffe, please, Mildred? Thanks," he said, turning to follow
Steele back into the office.
The telephone rang as she brought the cup in to give it to Tony,
glaring at him to let him know he wasn't off the hook yet. "I'll
get it," she offered, picking up the reciever. "Remington
Steele Investigations. Yes,-One moment, please." She pressed
the hold button and looked at Mr. Steele. "It's Mr. Ford."
"Ford?"
Tony sank further into his chair as Mildred explained, "Charles
Ford. He hired us to set up a security system for his art collection."
"As I recall," Steele said, looking across to where
Tony sat, "Laura asked you to handle the ground work on that,
didn't she, Antony?"
"Yeah, well- uh-"
"Mr. Ford insists on speaking to you, Chief."
Taking the reciever, he pressed the button. "Steele here.
Mr. Ford. What seems to be the problem? . . . He-" That blue
gaze fixed on Tony, who tried to sink even further into the leather
chair. "Mr. Ford - Allow me-...Yes, Yes, I quite understand-.
. . Please allow me to offer my apologies-. . . No, that won't
be necessary. I'll send someone else. . . . Laura Steele. . .Yes
. . .Good day, Mr. Ford." He continued to pin Tony with twin
blue daggers. "Mr. Ford WAS quite upset. With reason, I might
add."
Mildred shook her head. "What happened?"
Steele picked up a pencil from the desk. "The appointment
was for nine. Antony arrived an hour late- with no apology or
explanation. He then remained at the Ford Gallery for a grand
total of ten minutes, more than enough time to come within a hair's
breath of destroying a marble statue valued at a quarter of a
million dollars."
Mildred whistled softly, shaking her head again. Tony got up,
feeling at a disadvantage sitting down. "Look-"
"No excuses. Why were you late this morning?"
"Jess and I had dinner at her place last night-"
Steele lifted his hand. "On second thought, I don't want
to know. Laura will sooth Mr. Ford's ruffled feathers and salvage
the account." He looked up at Mildred. "Not a word to
Laura about this, Mildred."
"But, Mr. Steele -"
"I'll take care of informing her of what happened. Right
now, I need to speak to Antony in private." Mildred shook
her head in exasperation, but left them alone.
"I'm sorry, Steele. My car battery was dead this morning.
Then I ran out of gas. The fuel gauge isn't working-"
"I don't doubt it, considering that pile of scrap metal that
you refer to as a car."
"It's a classic," Tony insisted, then grinned. "Of
course, I could buy another one if I made a little more money-"
"I somehow doubt that this is the time to ask Laura for an
increase in your salary, Antony."
"Yeah, I guess you're right. What did you want to talk to
me about?"
"I'll find some way to square this moring's fiasco with Laura
if you will do something for me."
"Such as?"
"Does the name Morgan St. Clair mean anything to you?"
Tony's low whistle was enough answer. "Bad character. Arms
sales to terrorists, murder- Why do you ask?
One hour later, Laura entered the office only to find it
empty. "Mildred? Remington?"
Mildred came from the coffee alcove, a cup in hand. "Oh,
Mrs. Steele. Did you just come in?"
"Yes. Where is everyone?"
"Tony and Mr. Steele met with Lt. Hansen, then took off about
ten minutes ago."
"Together? Did they say where they were going?"
"No, but they think they took the limo - shall I try to call?"
she offered.
"I'll do it," she said, going to her office and dialing
the number.
"Steele here."
"Where are you?"
"In the limo, of course," was his response.
Laura frowned. "Not very funny."
"Tony and I are checking out a couple of informants,"
he told her. "How did your appointment go?"
She placed a hand on her abdomen. "The test was positive,"
she said.
"Wonderful news," he said, his voice lowered. "Did
he say when?"
"March," she said. "He's not sure of the date yet.
So you be careful."
"I will," he promised. "I love you."
"I love you," she replied, hanging up the telephone
to find Mildred in the doorway.
"Oh, Mrs. Steele. Are you really? I mean- I know I shouldn't
have listened, but- You are, aren't you?"
Laura smiled. "Yes, Mildred, I'm pregnant."
The teary eyed woman came around to give her a hug. "Oh,
I'm so happy for you. For BOTH of you. Have you told anyone else?
Your mother-or-"
"No. You're the first to know- after Remington, of course.
And I'd prefer to keep it between the three of us for awhile."
Mildred frowned. "But why? I'd be shouting it from the roof
top if I were you."
Laura sighed. "Mildred, how do you think our clients would
act if they knew that the detective handling their case happened
to be pregnant?"
"You're going to keep working, then?"
"There's no reason why I shouldn't. I'm healthy, in good
physical condition. Dr. Phillips said it wouldn't hurt as long
as I was careful. Now, I need you to run a computer check on Morgan
St. Clair. And quickly. I'll be in the office talking to Jessica."
Mildred went to her computer and began to work her particular
magic as Laura closed the door and went to dial Jessica's number.
"Jessica Beecham."
"It's Laura, Jessica. Have you spoken to Remington this morning?"
"He called earlier to confirm our luncheon. Why?" She
paused. "Is something wrong, Laura? He sounded troubled.
And Katherine agrees with me. She's certain that he's in danger."
"He is," Laura confirmed. "Can you come down here
so I can explain?"
"I'll be right down."
To be Continued----