"I do!" Laura insisted. "But she's got it password protected, and I don't have the vaguest idea what that password might be!" She grabbed the telephone. "I'm going to try and call her again," she decided.
"Try her Social Security number," Murphy suggested, causing both Laura and Remington to turn towards the sound of that voice.
Laura was out of the chair in a second, her arms around her old friend. "Murphy! Thank God you're okay! I was so relieved when Lt. Jarvis called and told us that they'd found you!"
Accepting the hug, Murphy met Remington's gaze over Laura's head. "Are you okay?" Remington asked as Laura stepped away.
"More or less," Murphy replied with a wry grin, touching the side of his head. "Got a hell of a headache, but-"
"You've probably got a concussion," Laura worried. "Oh, I'm sorry that I got you into that, Murphy," she said. "You need to go to the hospital," she told him, trying to turn him around, but Murphy resisted.
"I was saying that I have a hell of a headache, but the paramedics gave me a clean bill of health," Murphy finished, then took in Laura's soot and dirt stained clothes, Remington's less than well-pressed tuxedo, and the bandage on his employer's foot. "Jarvis told me that you two had a little adventure of your own."
"That creep Gianelli tried to blow us up," Laura declared.
"To be accurate, Laura," Remington explained, "he attempted to bury us in a mound of rubble. We were lucky."
"And now he's disappeared with Racine Douglas," Murphy finished. "Any idea where he might have taken her?" he asked.
"We were attempting to get into Mildred's computer in an effort to do so when you came in," Remington answered.
Murphy frowned. "Where is Mildred?" he wondered, looking around the office.
"Out of pocket, apparently," was Remington's response as he went to the file cabinet that sat in the corner and opened the bottom drawer where the employee files were kept. Pulling out Mildred's folder, he opened it and held it out to Laura. "Let's see if Murphy is right, shall we?" He looked at Murphy as Laura worked. "Jarvis called Mildred and told her about the attempt on our lives, and I'm worried that she believes Gianelli succeeded in his attempt to kill us. There's no answer at her house, and she hasn't checked in with the answering service."
"Knowing Mildred, she'll turn up," Murphy said. "She's probably out trying to track down Gianelli herself."
"That's what worries me," Remington said as Laura laughed.
"We're in!" she exclaimed, and both men huddled around her. Laura sat forward, flexing her fingers. "Okay, what do we know?"
"Gianelli kidnapped Racine and has taken her somewhere that he believes they're safe," Remington recalled.
"And he took her passport," Laura added, nodding.
"I don't think that was his first plan," Murphy told them. "When I woke up in that basement, I got untied and did a little searching. I found a fully appointed bedroom, satin sheets, canopy bed, attached bath."
"A room fit for a famous movie actress?" Remington suggested.
"Very much so. There were more photographs of Racine all over that room, too. Some of them were cut and pasted so that Gianelli was in them as well."
"So you think that he intended to kidnap her and keep her hidden away in that room?" Laura asked, shuddering at the thought.
"Most likely. But our discovery of his plan forced his hand," Murphy answered. "He couldn't risk bringing her back there and my escaping."
"So he fell back on Plan B," Remington mused, moving away as he began to pace the office.
"The question is, *what* is Plan B?" Laura sighed, typing half-heartedly on the keyboard as Mildred's voice broke the silence.
"I'll call Lt. Jarvis," she was saying to someone. "Find out if he knows anything -"
"Mildred?" Laura said, turning to see the receptionist entering the office.
"Good Lord," Remington exclaimed as he caught sight of Mildred's companion. "Daniel. What on earth are you doing here?" he asked, but the question ended with an "oomph!" as he found himself struggling to breathe with Mildred's arms wrapped around him.
"Oh, Mr. Steele!" she cried, and then turned to hug Laura. "Miss Holt! You're alive! Thank God! I was so worried."
"So were we, Mildred," Laura said once she was free of the older woman's stranglehold and Murphy was being subjected to a similar fate. Where have you *been*? We've been trying to call you all evening!"
"I went to pick Daniel up from the airport," Mildred told them.
"The question still begs to be answered," Remington said, giving Daniel an uncertain look. "Why?"
"Harry, -" Daniel began, but Mildred interrupted.
"I called him after Lt. Jarvis called me," she explained, and seeing the look Remington gave her, she shrugged. "I didn't know what else to do, boss," she insisted. "I didn't know where Mr. Michaels was, and, well, Daniel *is* Mr. Steele's father. I thought he should know -"
Remington frowned, glancing at his watch. "You arrived very quickly, Daniel," he noted. "From Cannes to Los Angeles in record time."
"I wasn't in Cannes, my boy," Daniel clarified.
"But, my mother was going to meet you there," Laura reminded him.
"Next week," Daniel agreed. "I was still at my flat in town, taking care of some things before going across the Channel."
"How did you get here so quickly?" Remington wondered. "You couldn't have flown commercial."
Daniel's smile was tinged with enough nervousness that Remington was immediately on his guard. "Chartered jet."
"*You* chartered a private jet?" Remington asked.
"You remember Al Fahad, Harry?" Daniel questioned.
"Who's - el Fahad?" Laura asked.
"*Al* Fahad," Remington corrected her, his gaze firmly locked on his father. "Al Fahad's father was the sheik of some tiny Middle Eastern protectorate. His family was exiled several years ago when the populace got tired of the 'royals' lining their pockets with the money they made by selling oil to the West instead of using it to improve the lives of the citizenry. Fahad wound up in London, got involved in several- shall we say, *shady* enterprises in an attempt to hide the money that his family stole when they left. How did *you* manage to be on Fahad's private jet, Daniel?" he asked.
"I did a bit of work for him," Daniel explained as Remington gave him a look of disapproval. "Totally on the up and up, Harry, I assure you. He needed me to recover something for him- something that was legitimately his. I was successful, and he was so grateful, that in addition to paying me a rather handsome fee, he said that if I ever needed anything to give him a ring. Luckily, he was in when I gave him a call after I spoke to Mildred and when he heard what had happened couldn't wait to offer me his jet."
"He called me just before they landed and I met him at the airport," Mildred continued. "I'm so glad that you're all alive and okay-" she seemed to notice Remington and Laura's unkempt appearance. "You *are* okay, aren't you?"
"A bit the worse for wear," Remington admitted. "I'm glad that you're here. Laura was having a bit of a problem accessing the information that we need to find out where Jack Gianelli might have taken Racine Douglas," he said, ignoring Laura's indignant glare.
Mildred looked up at him as she sat down in her chair before the computer. "He kidnapped her?"
"We think so. Drugged her tea while he was keeping an eye on her while Howard Forester was at the warehouse trying to find us."
Mildred looked devastated. "Oh, Boss. I'm sorry. I guess I should have-" The telephone rang and she picked it up before the answering service could have a chance to intervene. "Remington Steele Investigations . . . Yes, just a moment." She put the call on "hold" and held the receiver out to Remington. "It's Howard Forester."
Remington took the receiver. "Howard? . . . No, I don't -" he paused, glancing at the people gathered around him. "He did? . . . When? . . . What did he say?" Remington listened carefully as Howard spoke. "I see. When he was talking, did you hear anything - unusual in the background? Noises, other voices? . . . Okay. . . Yes, I'll keep you informed. Let's just hope that he wasn't lying about wanting to make sure she gets some rest. I'll call you later," he promised, and hung up to face the others. "Gianelli called Howard a few moments ago. Told Howard that he knew that Howard would worry and that Racine just needed some time to rest, that she's been under a lot of stress lately."
"Caused entirely by Jack Gianelli," Laura declared.
"Very true," Remington agreed. "But he assured Howard that he wasn't going to hurt Racine, and that he was taking her away for awhile until she was thinking more clearly."
"Thinking more clearly," Murphy said. "Sounds like code for 'until she tells me she loves me'."
"Did Mr. Forester get any clues about where they might be over the phone, Chief?" Mildred asked.
"He said that he could hear something in the background, making announcements of some kind."
"He won't be able to take her anywhere in public," Murphy noted. "Even if she's still unconscious, people would recognize her."
"Not if he put a hat and scarf and sunglasses on her," Laura pointed out as Mildred gasped.
"Oh." Everyone turned to look at her, but she was looking at Daniel. "I think we saw them. You remember, Daniel, that couple at the airport?"
Daniel's forehead wrinkled momentarily. "Ah, yes. That poor young woman in the wheelchair."
Laura grabbed Mildred's arm. "Was it them?"
"I might have been," Mildred said, and started rummaging around in the files on her desk until she found one and drew out a photograph of Jack Gianelli. "I think it was," she said, handing the photo across to Daniel, who studied it. "He had a mustache, and his hair was different - "
"Daniel?" Remington asked, seeking his father's agreement.
"It could very well have been this man pushing the wheelchair, Harry," he confirmed.
"Did you hear him say anything to anyone?" Murphy wanted to know. "A Skycap, a ticket agent-"
"They were talking to a pilot, I believe," Daniel replied. "I think Mildred was paying more attention than I was. My only concern at that moment was to find Harry."
Father and son exchanged a knowing glance before Laura turned to Mildred. "Well?"
"I think I heard the pilot mention something about Buenos Aires," Mildred replied, frowning.
Remington winced. "Buenos Aires?" he repeated, then went into action. "Mildred, see what you can find out about private flights originating out of LAX to there."
"On it, Boss," she promised, already typing at the computer.
"Murphy, call Jarvis, let him know what we suspect, and that we're on top of things."
"Will do," was Murphy's response as he turned toward his office, only to pause as Remington spoke again.
"And then I want you to go and have that bump on your head looked at. If Laura and I have to make a trip to South America- you'll have to anchor things here."
"I'm fine-" Murphy started to say, but found himself cut off by the look Remington gave him.
"Murphy. Humor me, okay? For Laura's sake if nothing else?"
"Please, Murphy?" Laura said.
"Okay," Murphy agreed, with obvious reluctance. "I'll go."
"Good man," Remington noted with approval as Murphy continued into his office to make the call to Jarvis.
"Anything I can do to help, Harry?" Daniel asked.
Remington gave him a smile. "Thanks, but I think we have it in hand, Daniel."
"Good," Daniel said, looking from Remington to Laura. "Because I believe we need to have a little chat. Just the three of us?"
Mildred looked up from the computer at his words. "Daniel-"
"Oooooh," Laura shrieked as she saw the look that passed between the receptionist and Remington's father, and she moved into her office, slamming the door behind her.
Remington gave Mildred a disappointed glance. She shrugged, looking worried. "Sorry, Mr. Steele. I thought you and Miss Holt were- dead. Figured he had a right to know."
"Keep looking, Mildred," Remington said, and as he moved toward Laura's office, he said, "Go into my office, Daniel. Laura and I will be there in a moment."
Remington didn't wait to see if his father did as he requested. He opened the door to Laura's office and entered.
She was standing at the window, her arms crossed over her chest- a sure sign that she was angry. "I knew this would happen," she said as he joined her to look out onto the street below.
"We knew it could," Remington agreed. "But it doesn't mean that anything has to change," he added, slipping an arm around her waist.
"She told Daniel. She'll tell my mother, Frances, everyone," Laura sighed.
"I can talk to her again," he said against her ear. "And Daniel won't say a word. It's up to you."
"Maybe it's time we stopped trying to hide," Laura decided after several moments of silence.
Remington turned her to face him. "Are you sure?"
"I don't think we really have any choice in the matter anymore," she replied.
He leaned closer to place his lips on hers. "Daniel's waiting in my office," he said once the kiss ended.
"Then we might as well face the music," Laura decided.
***
Daniel was standing at the window when they entered, hands in his pockets, looking out over the city. Hearing them, he turned toward them, his gaze uncertain when it fell upon Laura. "I hope you're not angry with Mildred, Laura. She only did what she felt was right. As far as she knew, you and Harry were both dead. And she thought I would like to know that the two of you had finally - "
"Given you what you want?" Laura finished for him.
Daniel's eyes dipped toward Laura's midsection and he began to smile. "Indeed? I suppose that *would* explain the need for a hastily arranged, clandestine ceremony-"
"I *meant* Harry and I getting married," Laura corrected him with a deep sigh.
"Then you're not-?"
"Ugh!" Laura exclaimed and moved toward the windows herself.
"No, Daniel, she's not," Remington answered quietly and firmly.
"Then, why the need for secrecy?" Daniel asked. "Why not let those who care about you know what you were up to?"
"It was a spur of the moment decision," Remington said, keeping his eyes on Laura, who was still at the window, the drapes clenched tightly in her fingers. "I was in Las Vegas, Laura was in Las Vegas - a romantic weekend, and- the next thing we knew, we were standing before a minister and plighting our trough to each other."
"But you didn't tell anyone even when you returned. Mildred said that she wouldn't have known if Murphy hadn't suggested that she do some research on what the two of you had been up to in Las Vegas."
"We wanted to keep it a secret, Daniel," Laura said, causing both men to turn and look at her. "Just for awhile. To- make sure we'd done the right thing. I'm -" she looked down at her hands as they fell from the fabric of the drapes, "I'm still not sure that I'm cut out for the whole 'til death do you part' thing."
Remington lifted his shoulders in resignation as Daniel glanced his way. "And you agreed to this, Harry?"
"I didn't have much choice," Remington replied. "It was either agree or continue to wait for Laura to decide she was ready." He tugged at his ear and smiled. "I thought it was a good trade-off, actually. Or it would have been, if we hadn't returned only to become embroiled in this case." He sat down heavily on the sofa in the conference area.
Laura turned from the window at last, and moved across the room. "Daniel, I don't suppose we could - convince you not to tell anyone? Not for the time being, anyway?"
Daniel gave her a suspicious look. "I don't know, Laura. As much as I've hoped this would happen, I'm not at all certain that I can keep the truth from your mother when we meet."
Laura rolled her eyes and sank onto the leather-covered sofa beside Remington. "Mother." She took a deep breath. "Six months, Daniel," Laura said. "Please?" she begged.
"And after that?" Daniel responded, wary.
"If things go well," Laura answered as Remington took her hand in his, "If- this- works, then -"
"We'll plan the wedding of the century," Remington finished for her. "One that even Abigail Holt will be proud of."
Daniel looked from his son to Laura. "Six months," he repeated as the door to the office opened and Mildred ran in.
"I found them!" she declared. "Mr. and Mrs. Fernando Armendariz routed to Buenos Aires, Argentina. Reservations at the-" she stopped to glance at the notes in her hand before continuing. "El Océano El Hotel Anterior", she read.
"The Ocean Front Hotel," Remington translated.
"You know it?" Laura asked.
"I've- a passing acquaintance with it," he admitted. "Mildred, book Laura and myself on the first flight out to Argentina, will you? And call Howard Forester, let him know what's going on, tell him to stay put until we find Racine and rescue her."
"You got it," Mildred said, and then paused as she looked at Daniel. "Is - everything okay?"
"Everything is fine, Mildred," Daniel assured her. "We'll talk later."
Murphy, who had followed Mildred in and heard her announcement, said, "Forester's not going to be happy," he told them.
Remington nodded. "I hate to ask this of you, Murphy, but I'm going to need you to make sure that he doesn't try to follow us down there."
Recalling his experience with the agent at the gym, Murphy sighed. "Great."
"If you need any help, Murphy," Daniel offered, and Murphy began to grin. "You know, Chalmers, I might just take you up on that."
"Murphy," Remington said in a tone of warning, but he was smiling all the same as Mildred reappeared.
"Okay, you and Miss Holt are booked on the six a.m. flight out of LAX," she told them. "And I booked you into the same hotel- under an assumed name. I hope that was okay."
"What's the name, Mildred?" Laura asked.
"Mr. and Mrs. Reggie Whitewood," was Mildred's response. "I used the one you used last weekend in Las Vegas," she told them.
"Excellent choice, Mildred," Remington agreed, putting an arm around the woman's shoulders with a laugh. "We'll make a detective of you yet." He winked at Laura. "Shall we go pack for our trip?" he asked.
Laura rose from the sofa, looking at Daniel. "After Daniel agrees to what we were discussing earlier," she said.
Daniel took her hands in his. "For you- six months," he promised, bringing her hands to his lips as he bowed over them. "Anything for my daughter in law."
"Mildred!" Murphy groaned. "You didn't!"
Remington, sensing that retreat was the best course of action, slid his arm around Laura's waist and rushed her out of the door, leaving Mildred, Murphy, and Daniel to sort things out amongst themselves.
***
An hour later, Remington and Laura were on the plane, winging south toward Argentina. Laura turned from looking out of the window to find him looking pensive. "A peso for your thoughts," she said.
"Hmm," he said. "Just recalling my last visit South of the Border," he mused. "And I believe it would be a centavo at the moment, not peso."
Laura placed her hand on his arm, and he covered it with his. "Want to tell me about it?" she asked, fully aware that there were huge chunks of his life from before Harry became Remington Steele that he hesitated to confide in her about.
"Pride of the Pampas," he muttered.
"What was that?"
"Pride of the Pampas," he repeated. "When I was seventeen, I decided that I'd learned everything I needed to from Daniel and took out on my own. Spent a bit of time with a circus-"
"Where you learned to eat fire," Laura recalled.
"Tossed around the Med for awhile, turning my hand to this and that. Finally found myself involved in a scheme to pass me off as the illegitimate son of a Englishman who had immigrated to Argentina," he recalled. "The only problem was, the Englishman wasn't as clueless as I'd been led to believe and I barely escaped with my skin intact," he confided, lowering his voice.
Laura smiled. "What did you do?" she asked.
"Whatever I could. I was in South America, no money, no means of support- I barely spoke the language. I wound up in Brazil and got into a fight on a street corner one day when a local made a disparaging remark about the English." The smile became retrospective. "A man found me. Barney. Said we'd make a lot of money fleecing the locals if I'd trust him."
"And did you?"
"Enough to let him teach me how to box. We traveled all over South America, me fighting, Barney taking bets against the "Pride of the Pampas" and cleaning up. The locals would take one look at me and bet on their boy to win. Didn't know I knew how to box. We were always just one step ahead of my reputation. Barney was right: we made a lot of money."
"How come I don't think this story has a happy ending?" Laura wondered.
"Barney was supposed to meet me, we were coming to the States, going to go legit- but Barney never showed up. He took the money- and was gone." He shook off the miasma that the memory caused. "I took a job with a smuggler heading toward Barbados to get out of the country."
Laura's hand covered his. "And now you're going back." She picked up his hand. "But not as a young con man, uncertain of his future. This time, you're Remington Steele, private eye."
Remington laughed, pulling their joined hands closer. "You're right. It's a long way from that street corner in Brazil to a high rise office on the 11th floor in Los Angeles." His smile widened as he drew her closer. "Besides, I suppose we could consider this a honeymoon, eh?"
****
"Mr. and Mrs. Reginald Whitewood," Remington told the desk clerk at the elegant and exclusive hotel.
The clerk's white teeth were revealed as he smiled. "Ah, yes. Your room is ready. Our honeymoon suite. The best room in the entire hotel, senor," he continued as Remington felt Laura's increased tension at his side. "I hope it will be suitable?"
"Most suitable, my good man," Remington assured him as a bellhop approached to take their luggage. Remington signed the register and said, "I believe some friends of ours checked in recently. Mr. and Mrs. Fernando Armendariz?"
The clerk continued to beam. "Ah, yes. Such a pity. Senora Armendariz is not a well woman, I am afraid. I will let them know that you have arrived," the clerk declared, reaching for the telephone.
Remington forestalled the movement. "Oh, that's not necessary. I think they would prefer that we surprise them. Isn't that right, darling?"
"Umm," Laura replied in a noncommittal fashion.
"As you wish, Senor Whitewood," the clerk agreed. "Pablo will show you to your room. Enjoy your stay."
"Oh, I'm sure it will be a visit that neither of us forget," Remington assured the man before turning to follow the bellhop, his arm around Laura's waist. Leaning close, he could hear teeth grinding together.
"I'm going to *kill* Mildred," she promised, she muttered between her clenched teeth.
"Really?" Remington questioned. "I was thinking of giving her a raise."
TBC…