Steele With A Twist

Part 3

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Steele stealthily approached the room where Laura had set up her base. He was very close, about to call her name softly to let her know it was him, when someone leapt upon him, knocking him to the ground. Steele grabbed his assailant, only to find himself staring up into those brown eyes. "You again!" she said.

"Gutierrez was waiting for me at the hotel," he explained, finding himself enjoying the feel of her laying on top of him. "I thought I might share your - accommodations until we find Juan and solve Felipe's murder."

"Guess I don't have much choice, do I?" she said, rolling off of him and to her feet. She didn't wait for him to stand up as she started for her alcove. "I think I have a lead on who killed Felipe," she told him.

"From where?" Steele asked, following her, dropping his case near the door.

"This." She showed him a paper with a name on it.

Steele recognized the name. "Philip Trent? Is he in Acapulco?"

"That's what I have to find out. Have you heard of him?"

"He's a collector. Collects things that belong to other people."

"Like rare gems?" Laura asked.

"Sometimes. He's not a very nice man. Killed someone who stole something for him once, when the man tried to sell it elsewhere for a higher price." He looked at the paper. "Where did you get this?"

"Felipe's room. I found it just before you came in."

"You removed evidence from the scene of a crime?" he asked.

"What was I supposed to do? Leave it for Gutierrez to destroy?"

She had a point, he supposed. "I know that wasn't part of your training at Havenhurst," he commented.

"Havenhurst. Is that something else that Wilson told you about? Although I REALLY can't believe he would. When he found out about it -"

"No. Jeffries didn't say a word about your having started your apprenticeship. One of your co-workers there is now my associate. Murphy Michaels."

He envied Murphy the smile that came over her face. "Murphy? He's working for you?"

"Yes."

"He was the only one at Havenhurst who understood how much being there meant to me. Everyone else treated me as if I were just playing a game."

"But not Murphy."

"He treated me as if I were a real detective." She indicated the paper in his hands. "What are we going to do about this?"

"I'll go out tomorrow, ask a few questions. If Trent's in Acapulco, he's probably on his yacht in the harbour."

Laura's head came up. "There IS a huge yacht out there," she told him. "I think it's called 'Golden Dream', or such."

Steele nodded. "That's Trent's yacht."

"So he IS here. Now all we have to do is get close to him - see if he has Juan."

"Miss Holt - you're not going anywhere NEAR Philip Trent."

She stood before him, hands on her hips. "I'll do as I please, Mr. Steele. Trent's the only lead we have - and I'm not about to stand around while he decides to leave Acapulco."

"Trent doesn't just collect rare art objects, Miss Holt. He collects women - "

Laura smiled, revealing those dimples. "Then we have a way to get onto that boat, don't we?" She turned, already thinking about how she was going to do it. "I could find someone to take me out there in a boat, sneak on board - "

Sighing, Steele shook his head. "You're not-"

Laura turned to face him, her eyes blazing. "I'm getting JUST a little tired of your telling me what I can and can't do, Mr. Steele. You agreed to help me find Juan, remember?"

"That agreement didn't include putting your life in danger," he pointed out. "I have a client to answer to back in Los Angeles, if you will recall."

She wasn't listening. "I have it. I'll put something really nice on, then borrow a scuba suit to swim out to the ship -"

"In the dark? It won't work, Miss Holt. There are sharks out there-"

"Well then, YOU come up with a plan, Mr. Steele, if you don't like any of mine."

"Why don't we just walk onto that ship? As guests."

"Guests? And just how-"

"If I recall, Trent usually enjoys having people around him. Throws parties every evening."

"You're right. You can see the boat from the back wall at night -"

Steele grabbed the binoculars that he had packed, then took by the her hand, pulling her along. "Show me where."

 

Laura placed an empty barrel against the stone fence and climbed on top of it to peer over the wall at the harbour below. "Out there," she told him, pointing to a huge, well lit yacht from which music and laughter could be heard even from this distance.

Steele stood beside her on the barrel, binoculars on the boat. He watched as a small launch brought someone out, noted that there didn't seem to be any security vetting the new arrivals. "Feel up to attending a party, Miss Holt?" he asked.

Her grin was contagious, and Steele tightened his arm around her waist. When had he put it there? he wondered. His eyes grew serious as they looked into hers. "Mr. Steele-" she whispered, her hands sliding around his neck to pull his head down to within millimeters of hers.

Steele heard the sound of a car engine and glanced up to see a police car turning the corner, a spotlight turned onto the wall. He quickly pulled Laura to the ground at his side, where they sat against the wall, safe from the police. She rested her head on his shoulder, and was sliding her arm up his chest, but Steele had recovered his senses. She had a fiancee waiting for her back in Los Angeles, he reminded himself. She wasn't his to kiss, or hold -"I think they've gone," he told her, rising to his feet and extending a hand to help her. "Let's go get ready for our little jaunt, shall we?"

She looked up at him, clearly confused by the change in him. "Did I do something wrong, Mr. Steele?"

"Not at all, Miss Holt. But it's getting late, and if we're going to get onto that yacht, we don't have any time to waste." He indicated that she should proceed a head of him back to the alcove.

Steele lifted Laura to the ground from the top of the wall surrounding their hide out, then stood looking at her for a long moment. "What?" she asked. "Do I have some dirt on my face?" She lifted a hand to her face, only to have Steele take her hand in his and shake his head.

"No. You look lovely." He was lucky that the party on Trent's yacht wasn't fancy dress. He hadn't thought to bring his tuxedo from the hotel - and he was quite certain that Laura hadn't a fancy gown with her at all. What she had found to wear, a long flowing white tunic dress, made her appear almost ethereal. Holding out his arm to her, he bowed slightly. "Shall we go, Miss Holt?"

"By all means, Mr. Steele." As they moved down the street, she said thoughtfully, "we can't use our real names. Yours is too well known. And mine -"

"Leave it to me. Improvisation, Miss Holt, is the hall mark of a good detective." He didn't notice the look on her face. If he had, he might have felt a great deal less confident as they approached the launch that was waiting to transport party guests to the "Golden Dream."

 

There was a man standing on the dock, taking down names as the guests loaded onto the boat. He looked at the well dressed man and woman, his eyes unsmiling. "Names?"

"Michael O'Leary," Steele supplied. "This is-"

"Tracy Lord," Laura supplied quickly, before he could say anything.

Writing down the names, the man let them pass to be assisted into the small boat with the four other people. Sitting beside Laura, Steele put his lips near her ear. "Tracy Lord?" he asked.

She turned to smile at him. "I like the name," she explained.

Shaking his head, Steele lifted his eyes toward the starry sky above them. Heaven save me from stubborn women, he thought as the small boat turned toward Trent's yacht.

 

The deck seemed filled with people, and as they came aboard, Steele pulled Laura into a dark corner. "That's Trent over there," he told her, indicating a tall, blonde man wearing a white dinner jacket, talking to a dark haired man. "I want you to keep an eye on him while I search the boat -"

"I think I can keep his attention -"

"I don't want you to get his attention, Miss Holt, just watch him. If anyone suspects what I'm up to, they will go to him first for instructions. I don't want you talking to him or doing anything that might make him notice you at all. Is that clear?"

She smiled sweetly. "Perfectly clear, Mr. Steele." Turning away, she snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and went to stand by the rail, her eyes on their unknowing host.

Steele remained where he was for a moment, watching her. He didn't like the idea of leaving her alone this way - in a room filled with strangers and one murderer. But he needed to search the boat - find out if Juan were on board. It made more sense for him to do it- after all, he'd been on the yacht before, years ago.

 

Laura sipped the champagne, suddenly realizing that her companion had vanished. In a room full of people, he was suddenly just- gone. A wave of envy passed over her. How DID he manage that one? she wondered, turning her gaze back toward Philip Trent, only to find that he was looking at HER. She took a deep breath and smiled, then turned to lean over the railing, gazing down at the dark water below. She'd turn back in a moment - after she was certain he'd found someone more interesting to look at.

"I'd be careful that I didn't fall if I were you, my dear." The English accent sounded different from Remington's. Must be the Irish, she thought, turning to smile at the owner of that voice.

"I suppose you're right. I didn't realize that I was so far over. Thank you."

"It wouldn't do for such an attractive young woman to go overboard. Might ruin the party, Miss-"

"Lord. Tracy Lord." She looked at him closer. "You're Philip Trent, aren't you?"

"Why, yes, I am. I don't believe we've met, Miss Lord."

"I'm here with a friend," she told him. Her eyes scanned the room. "I don't see him at the moment."

"Well, I'm very glad that you came, my dear." A waiter appeared at his elbow. "More champagne?" he asked, taking her empty glass without waiting for her answer and giving her a full one to replace it.

"I really shouldn't," she told him. "I'm not really used to drinking very much."

"All the more reason that you should. Tell me, Tracy- may I call you Tracy? - what brings you to Acapulco?"

"I'm on a holiday. Just broke up with my fiancee and thought a change of scenery would be nice."

"And what do you do for a living?"

"I work in a bank," she told him. After all, she HAD worked in a bank- that's how she had met Wilson. Just because she hadn't actually worked in years--.

"And your friend? Did he come down here with you?"

"Oh, no. We met here, in Acapulco."

"Holiday romances are often so ill fated."

"I'm not looking for anything permanent," she told him. "No commitments for me. Spent the last four years of my life playing house with a man who didn't appreciate me. No more. I'm free. And I intend to enjoy that freedom."

Trent watched her over his glass. "I can't imagine any man not appreciating you, my dear."

Laura took a drink of her champagne, lifting her eyes to scan the crowd, and nearly choked as she saw a familiar face. There, not six feet away, wearing a waiter's red jacket, carrying a tray of

canapes, was Juan Lopez!

"Are you all right, Tracy?" Philip Trent asked, following her gaze.

Laura nodded, lowering her eyes. "I just thought I saw someone I knew -" she explained quickly. "But I was wrong."

"Would you like a tour of my boat," Trent asked, extending his arm for her to take.

She really wanted to stay here, find some way to talk to Juan, to find out what he was doing here, obviously not as a prisoner. But if she said no, Trent would be suspicious.

She put her empty champagne glass on a tray, took another. "In a moment. You certainly know how to throw a party, Mr. Trent," she told him, placing her hand on his arm.
"Thank you." He started moving toward one of the doors into the main cabin.

"Do you keep all of these servants on full time just for such occasions?"

"Oh, no," he told her, smiling. "I do have some that are on my private payroll, but the rest were hired locally."

"I see. Did you use an agency, or just-"

Trent placed a hand over hers. "So many questions, my dear. Why such great curiosity over the hiring of a few servants?"

Laura shrugged lightly. "I'm thinking of having a party before I go home. A last, big, blowout -"

"Such things are usually expensive. And I wouldn't think someone who worked at a bank could afford -"

"I was going to convince my friend to pay for it," Laura confided, smiling widely.

"Ah. I think I'm beginning to understand." He opened the door and led her inside. "To answer your question, I use an agency - I would be more than glad to give you the name."

"You would? Oh, thank you-"

"I believe their card is in my stateroom, why don't we retrieve it together?" He bowed over her hand, lifting it to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Sounds delightful, Mr. Trent," Laura said.

"Oh, do call me Philip, my dear."

 

 

Steele turned a corner in the narrow corridor and promptly withdrew. Two men were standing before a door down the way. He needed to get close enough to find out what they might be guarding. Or who. He needed a diversion - and Laura might be able to provide that. He turned to start back upstairs, only to hear soft laugher - familiar to him already. Laura! What the devil was she doing down HERE? he wondered, ducking quickly into an open doorway. He could see the hallway from his position. She was with Trent. "How large a party were you considering?" he was asking her.

"Oh, I don't know. I thought I might just pull out all the stops-" They went around the corner, and Steele followed quietly, peering around to see the two men step back for Trent to unlock the cabin door.

He turned to the men. "Take a few minutes, gentlemen. Get some fresh air."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Trent," one of them said, waiting for the door to close behind their employer before turning toward the corner.

Steele returned to his hiding place, hearing the first man say, "Looks like he's found another dolly for the night."

"Cute one, too. Looks like she'd be really spirited -"

His fingers curled into a fist as Steele visualized himself punching the guard in the nose. He took some deep breaths to clear the green haze from his vision, then waited for a count of twenty before venturing back to the hallway outside of the cabin into which Laura and Philip Trent had vanished.

 

Inside, Laura looked around the stateroom, hoping she wasn't gaping too noticeably. The man certainly liked his creature comforts, she thought. Brass fixtures shone with a highly polished glow, dark wood providing the perfect backdrop. Soft, thick carpeting made Laura want to take off her shoes to sink her toes into it.

But it was the huge bed that was the centerpiece of the room. She heard glass against glass and turned to find Trent at the bar. "Would you care for another drink?"

"Thank you. This is- a lovely room, Mr. Trent-" She saw his expression, and smiled. "Philip."

Handing her a glass, he said, "That's much better. This is my home, Tracy. I wanted to make certain I would be comfortable here." He picked up something from the dresser. "Here's the card I mentioned. Tell them I sent you and they'll give you excellent service."

Laura reached out to take the card, only to have him grab her wrist and pull her into his arms. "Don't I get something in return for my help?" he asked.

"I WAS thinking of inviting you to my party," she told him, remaining still.

"We could have a party of our own, right here," Trent said, placing his lips against her neck. "Just the two of us." His fingers moved to the button at the top of one shoulder that would allow her dress to slide to the floor if released.

"What about my friend? He might start looking for me - and when he doesn't find me -"

"I could give you a great deal more than he ever could, Tracy," Trent told her. "Clothes, jewels -" His eyes darkened from hazel to nearly black. "Can you keep a secret?"

Laura smiled. "Yes."

Trent let her go, but retained her hand to lead her to a painting on the wall. He touched it on diagonal corners, upper left, lower right, and there was a soft "Whirrr!" followed by a "Click!" as the painting slid inward and then down to reveal a safe. Keeping his body between them, Trent pressed some numbers on a keypad and the door popped open. Laura took a sip of her drink, knowing that she was going to pay big time for drinking rum after all that champagne. But she needed something to calm her nerves as Trent brought something out of the safe wrapped in black velvet. Taking her hand, he led her back toward the bed, sitting her on the edge. "Now close your eyes, my dear." Laura did, felt him put something on the comforter beside her. "You can look now."

Laura gasped as she noticed the bluest gems she had ever seen. "They're beautiful," she whispered, reaching out to touch on, then pausing to look up at him, asking permission. He nodded, watching her reaction. "They're like- pieces of sky."

"The rarest gems in the world," he told her. "Royal Lavulite."

"They must have cost a fortune," she said, tracing one of the stones lightly.

"They would have- had I paid for them."

"You- stole them?"

"I didn't. I merely convinced the courier who was transporting them that he could make more money working for me than he could transporting other people's valuables. He was taking them to Mexico City for a show - you see, the South African government allows museums around the world to show the gems."

"When they're missed -"

"They won't be for awhile. I sent another courier with some very good replicas."

"You seem to have all of your bases covered, Philip," she told him.

"They could be yours," Philip told her, leaning across the gems to lift her face to his, framing her face between his hands. "Sleep with me- one night, and I'll give one of the gems to you."

Laura swallowed heavily. It was tempting, she thought as her hand closed over one of the gems. To own a piece of the sky - She looked down at the deep blue, and recalled another deep blue - the blue in Remington Steele's eyes. The memory gave her the strength to put the gem down on the velvet with the others. "I can't make that kind of decision so quickly, Philip," she told him, putting a hand on his chest, fingering the expensive fabric of is jacket. "Can't I have a couple of days?"

"I'm not a man who enjoys waiting, Tracy," he told her, and for a moment, she thought he might take her anyway. But at last his hands fell to hers, bringing them both to his mouth. "But I think you might just be worth waiting for. But not too long, do you understand?"

"I understand," she told him. She remained seated on the bed as he returned the gems to the safe, the painting sliding back into place when he closed the door.

 

Steele waited until he heard the door opening, then returned to the corner. "Where are you staying?" he heard Trent ask Laura, and he held his breath.

"With my friend. That's another reason I can't give you an answer now. He's been so- wonderful to me, I can't just -"

"Remember our little secret, my dear," Trent said softly. "And remember too that I don't deal gently with someone who betrays me."

Steele waited in his hiding place until he heard the guards return, then retraced his steps to the deck. He took a glass of champagne, then stopped upon realizing that the waiter was Juan Lopez. They were in a corner, more or less isolated from the others. "Juan Lopez?" he asked. The young man's eyes widened. "Don't be afraid. I have a message from your mother. She's worried about you. Call her."

Lopez nodded once, briefly, before turning back to his work. Steele saw Laura across the deck with Trent. In order to get them both out of here, he was going to be forced to face the man. He only hoped that Trent's memory wasn't as good as his was. Finishing the champagne, he started through the crowd toward them.

 

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