Deciding to let her work her anger out in private, Remington moved to the door that led to the balcony. "Lovely view," he said at last. And indeed, it was. The last time he'd been here, he hadn't the funds to properly enjoy the amenities that the area had to offer. "I wonder why Gianelli chose Buenos Aires?" he mused, sliding the door open and going outside. The pool area was below the balcony, and various guests were down there, enjoying themselves.
"His mother was Argentinean," Laura informed him as she paused in the doorway, an open file folder in her hands. She must have noticed Remington's surprised expression, because she smiled slightly before continuing. "According to the information that Mildred dug up, Jack Gianelli's father was a police man in New York when he stopped the young daughter of the Argentinean Ambassador to the United Nations for speeding."
"Let me guess," Remington said. "They fell in love."
"Her father disapproved, and threatened to destroy Gianelli's career if he didn't leave Maria alone."
"But Gianelli persevered," Remington prodded.
"And the Ambassador disowned her, leaving the country to return to Argentina within days of Maria and Carl Gianelli's elopement. Maria became pregnant immediately, and before the baby was born, Carl Gianelli was out of the picture."
Remington frowned at the all too familiar story, but asked hopefully- "Killed in the line of duty?"
She lifted her shoulders. "Doubtful. There would have been some kind of pension from the police department for his family had that been the case. Maria Gianelli had her son and raised him on her own, with no help from her father. She wasn't trained to do much- and her rap sheet with the NYPD isn't pretty."
"She became a prostitute?"
"According to what Mildred discovered, yes. She died when Gianelli was in his late teens- beaten to death. The police closed the case, saying that she had probably been killed by one of her - clients. But the murderer was never found, and several of her former customers met with violent ends as well."
"And I'll bet those cases were never solved, either," Remington said thoughtfully.
"The murders ended about the same time that Jack Gianelli joined the service," Laura nodded. "He stayed in for ten years, serving with distinction, as an explosives expert."
Remington looked down at the pool below, his expression thoughtful. "Do you still believe that Racine's not in danger, Laura?" he questioned, and then turned slowly to look at her as she answered.
She closed the folder, and then went back into the suite without answering his question.
"If Gianelli was responsible for his mother's death, -" Remington began as he followed her into the living area.
"We don't know-"
"Oh, come now. It follows the pattern, doesn't it?" Remington insisted. "Maybe his mother had agreed to stop turning tricks when Jack asked her to. Only she fell back into old habits, and Jack lost his temper-" he slapped his fist into his open palm, "and Mum's dead. Then, Jack goes on a rampage, trying to get back at the men he blamed for his mother's fall from grace-"
"Or he went after those men because he thought one of *them* killed her," Laura pointed out with an equitable air.
"Why are you protecting that monster?" Remington asked. "Are you forgetting that he nearly killed the two of us? That he was going to leave Murphy down in that cellar to rot while he took off with Racine?"
"I haven't forgotten anything!" Laura shot back. "I just think- we should give him the benefit of the doubt, that's all. Losing a father isn't easy. You know that."
"But I never went about killing people. Or kidnapping them," he pointed out. Remington watched as Laura picked at the fabric of the drapery that hung over a window. "You have a bit of experience in that area yourself," he reminded her. "Your father left-"
"This isn't about *my* father," Laura insisted.
"It's not about mine, either. I *know* why Daniel wasn't there for me. A year in prison, during which time he lost track of my whereabouts," he recalled. "You know, you've never really talked about your father leaving. Abigail just glosses it over whenever the question comes up. As for Frances--"
"He left when I was sixteen," Laura said suddenly, cutting him off. Her eyes were fixed on the carpet at her feet as she continued. "But he was gone more than he was there for almost ten years before that.
"Ten years?" Remington questioned gently. He'd never really pried deeply about Laura's father, figuring that when she was ready to talk, she would. Now that the topic had been breeched, he realized that maybe there had been good cause for his hesitation.
"He and mother- well, they weren't getting along. So he took a job with his firm that required him to travel a lot. Then, one day, he came home, packed all of his things, and told Mother that he- wanted a divorce."
"Another woman." It wasn't a question. Little things that Abigail and Frances had said over the years were falling into place.
"He left the house, everything to Mother and just- walked away. And he never looked back. Wanted to start a new life without- without all the baggage of the old, I guess."
Remington could hear the remnants of the girl Laura must have been at sixteen, watching her father walk out of her life, choosing someone else over his family- and her. "That must've hurt like hell," he said softly.
Her shoulders lifted, and then fell. "I got used to it," she declared.
"But did you accept it?" Remington questioned, and Laura looked up at him, her eyes flashing with anger.
"I didn't have much choice, did I?"
"So now you think that every man in your life is destined to follow his lead. To walk out on you like he did on your mother?"
"Of course not!" Laura insisted, rising to her feet and picking up the folder again. "Let's concentrate on the case at hand, shall we?"
"Have you ever tried to find him?" Remington asked, not wanting to give this up just yet.
Laura's brown eyes met his. "Why should I try to find someone who obviously doesn't want to see me?" she asked. "How are we going to get Racine out of Jack Gianelli's clutches?" she asked. "I doubt we'll have much time. Once he sees either of us- he'll know why we're here."
Sighing, Remington gave in and dropped the subject of Laura's father - but only temporarily. "If we could separate them- get Gianelli out of their suite -"
"Why don't we?" Laura suggested. "We'll have him paged to meet someone in the lobby-"
"Might be better to get him out of the hotel all together," Remington mused.
"How?"
"The first order of business is to find out where they're staying," he decided. "While we know they're here, we don't know which room.
Laura smiled. "Leave that to me," she told him, picking up her purse.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To smell the roses," she answered, continuing toward the door. Once there, she looked back at him. "Care to join me? After all, we *are* supposed to be on our honeymoon."
Remington didn't hesitate before joining her at the door. "That we are, Mrs. Steele," he agreed, pulling her into his arms for a kiss. "And I intend to make the most of the opportunity."
"I'd be disappointed if you didn't try," she replied as he opened the door.
Remington closed it again, and drew her closer. "Then why don't I start now?" he suggested, and this time the kiss lasted much longer, until he could feel Laura's knees begin to give way. "I don't suppose I could - seduce you into spending a few minutes testing out that bed in there before we set out in pursuit of our prey, umm?" he asked, his blue eyes looking into hers. "Give me a chance to apologize for- pushing a bit too hard?" he continued.
Laura's eyes revealed that she was considering the idea as she brushed her lips against his. "You're forgiven," she assured him. "And the idea of spending the rest of the day in that huge bed with you is *very* tempting," she admitted.
"Then give in to temptation," he suggested, pressing light kisses along her jaw line.
"What about Racine?" Laura asked. "The longer she stays in Gianelli's hands-"
"And if we manage to free her today, we'll have to leave," Remington pointed out, only realizing how the words sounded once they'd been spoken aloud. "I'm not saying that we should leave her there- but, you're the one who doesn't think she's in danger, remember. A couple of hours won't make much difference one way or the other, will it?"
Laura's answer was to wrap her arms around his neck and to kick her legs up so that she was in his arms. "Home, James," she ordered, pulling his head down to meet hers---
Only to sigh in frustration as the telephone rang, stopping Remington in mid-stride toward the waiting bedroom and its king-sized bed.
"Damn," Laura said, glaring at the offending instrument.
"My thoughts precisely, Laura," Remington agreed, releasing her to answer the insistent summons. "Hello?"
"Oh, Mr. Steele," Mildred said, sounding worried.
"Hello, Mildred," he replied, and saw Laura roll her eyes toward the ceiling.
"I hope I didn't interrupt anything, but -"
"Not at all, Mildred," Remington assured the receptionist. "Miss Holt and I were just- discussing how to best proceed," he continued, and Laura grinned at his words.
"Is the room all right?" she asked. "I thought it was appropriate, since, well- you know."
"Very appropriate," he said. "And the room is more than adequate. Did you call to inquire about the accommodations, Mildred, or was there another reason?"
"Oh, well, Mr. Michaels wanted to tell you something," she said quickly, and Remington frowned into the receiver as he heard whispering on the other end.
"Mildred!" Murphy's voice was easy to identify. "You said that-"
"You're the one who messed up," Mildred hissed back.
"She has a point, Murphy." Daniel. So he was still there.
"Hello?" Remington said into the telephone.
Laura was looking at him strangely. "What's going on?"
"I wish I knew. They're arguing over who's going to tell me something."
"Hello?" he said again, and this time a nervous sounding Murphy Michaels returned his greeting.
"Hi, Steele. How's Buenos Aires?" he asked conversationally.
"Warm, sunny, a slight breeze," Remington replied. "Now that we have the weather report out of the way, Murphy, what's going on?"
"Well, you remember that you told me to call Howard Forester and let him know what was going on?"
"Yes," Remington confirmed.
"Well, he was pretty upset, and somehow, in the conversation, I - slipped up and told him where Gianelli had taken Racine."
"Bloody hell," Remington groaned, and told Laura, "Murphy told Howard Forester that Racine was in Buenos Aires." To Murphy, he said, "I hope you're not going to tell me that Howard's on his way here, Murphy."
"Okay, then, I won't tell you," was Murphy's unsuccessful attempt at a humorous reply.
"Damn." Remington met Laura's eyes, and was surprised when she began to pace the floor nearby.
"I'm sorry, Steele. That man gets me so rattled- "
"I wouldn't let him know that," Remington suggested. "Knowing Howard, he'll take it as an invitation." Laura continued to pace. "Laura, would you sit down somewhere? I can't think-"
"That's exactly what *I'm* doing," Laura declared. "I think we can make this work to our advantage," she told him. "Find out if Murphy knows what flight he took and when it's due to arrive."
****
Remington followed Laura into the hotel florist/gift shop, still shaking his head. "I'm not certain that it will work, Laura. What reason does Gianelli have to trust Howard Forester?"
"Howard will just have to convince him that he can be trusted," Laura pointed out, admiring a spray of roses in the refrigerated case. "Those should work," she decided and got the attention of the young cashier. "I need to send those roses to someone who's staying here," she told the girl.
"Certainly senorita," the clerk said, picking up a card. "What room number?"
Laura started to speak, then paused. "Oh, my." She laughed softly in embarrassment. "I've forgotten the number." She glanced at Remington. "She's *your* sister. Do you remember the room number she gave us?"
"I wasn't the one who spoke with her," he said, ignoring the young woman's look of interest in his direction.
"What is the name?" the clerk asked.
"Mrs. Fernando Armendariz," Laura supplied.
The clerk consulted a computer screen, which Laura and Remington couldn't see, and then nodded. "I'll have them sent up immediately," she promised. "Would you like to put anything on the card?" she asked Remington.
"She'll know who they're from," Remington said as he pulled out the required amount of local tender to pay for the dozen long stemmed red roses, and then said, "I'll need a receipt."
***
Laura drew Remington out into the lobby, where they sat down in some chairs, pretending to be interested in the newspapers of the day. When a bell hop came out of the shop a few minutes later carrying a long, white box, Laura tapped Remington's arm to get his attention, and they followed the young man not into the elevator, but out of the main building of the hotel and toward the detached bungalows that lined the beachfront.
When he stopped at one of them, Remington pulled Laura out of sight behind a palm tree, drawing her into his arms as the bellhop knocked on the door. A large woman wearing a white nurse's uniform opened it. She frowned at the bellhop, speaking to him brusquely in Spanish. The young man answered, thrusting the flower box at the woman, who eventually took it and slammed the door in the young man's face, ignoring his hand extended for a tip.
As the bellhop walked dejectedly away, Remington and Laura stepped out and he handed the younger man some money. "For your trouble," he explained, nodding toward the bungalow. "She wasn't very friendly, eh?"
The bellhop glanced back toward the bungalow, then around, as if to make sure no one overheard him. "She's a bruja," he declared. "I feel sorry for the poor woman that she takes care of."
"Have you seen that woman?" Laura asked.
"Only when she and her husband first arrived," he explained. "Then Senor Armendariz hired *her* to take care of her while he attended to business matters- If you ask me, for a man who loves his wife as much as he does, he could have found a more sympathetic and friendlier nurse." As if realizing that he'd said too much about a guest to another guest, the young man nodded and started away. "Excuse me. I must get back to work."
Laura stood there, studying the bungalow through the plant growth that separated them from the building. "He said that Gianelli had 'business' to take care of. What kind of business?" she wondered aloud.
Remington glanced at his watch. "I don't know. But if we're going to meet Howard's flight, we'd better get a move on."
***
On the way to the airport, the taxi driver took a different route than the one who had brought them to the hotel earlier that day. When asked about it, the driver, whose name, he told them with a grin, was Felipe, simply widened that grin. "Who was your driver?" he asked. "If it was Enrique, then it would explain things. He tends to take customers on what he calls the 'scenic route' to increase his fare," he said.
Remington noticed the large platform being built in the center of town. "What's going on there?" he asked.
"Oh, there is a big celebration being planned. Our president is going to honor some of the longer term politicians who have worked to improve Argentina over the years."
"I wasn't aware that there was such a thing as 'long term' politicians in South America," Laura commented.
Felipe smiled again. "We might surprise you, Senora," he told her. "There are several of them that have spent all of their lives working for a better Argentina, but who had no desire to do more- to become, say, el Presidente."
Remington gave the driver his fare once they reached the airport, thanking him for the information and the insight into Argentinean politics."
"My pleasure, Senor," Felipe insisted with enthusiasm partially brought about by the tip he'd received.
*****
Howard Forester wasn't surprised to see them when he finished with customs. "I know I probably shouldn't have come, Steele," he began, "but Racine's like a sister to me. I couldn't just sit there in Los Angeles, waiting for word-"
"No problems, Howard old man," Remington said, putting an arm around the agent's broad shoulders. "In fact, it might even work out for the best that you *did* decide to take matters into your own hands."
Howard looked from Remington to Laura. "What are you talking about? I thought you'd be upset-"
"Tell me, Howard," Laura asked, "Are you as good an actor as you are an agent?"
Howard managed to look embarrassed. "Well, I *did* star in my college production of 'Our Town'," he confided. "Won rave reviews for the most part."
"Excellent," Remington declared, tightening his hold on Howard's shoulders. "Let's hope you're not rusty, then."
Another look. "Rusty?"
"We need someone to keep Jack Gianelli busy while Mr. Steele and I get Racine out of the bungalow they're staying in," Laura explained. "We can't do it, because he thinks we're dead- and if he finds out differently, he'll run again."
"How am I supposed to do that?" Howard wondered.
"Make him think that you approve of his relationship with Racine," Remington suggested, leading him toward the exit. "That you think he did the right thing by bringing her down here to rest, that she's overworked, needs a break - needs someone to take care of her."
"Think you can pull that off?" Laura asked.
"I think so," Howard agreed. "I can't believe that he brought her to Argentina," he mused.
"His mother was-"
"I know," Howard said. "He mentioned it when I hired him. But he also told me then that he had no desire to come here since his grandfather had turned his back on he and his mother when they needed him. He was quite emphatic about that."
Remington raised his arm to signal for a cab once they reached the curb, and put Howard inside. "You next, Laura," he said, and turned to find her at the newsstand nearby. "Laura?" he called out, then told the cab driver to wait for a moment before going over to retrieve her. "Laura-"
She was looking at a newspaper. "Pay the man for the paper," she said. "I think I've figured out the *real* reason that Jack Gianelli decided to bring Racine down here." Without another word, she turned and headed for the waiting cab, leaving Remington no option but to give the man some money before joining her.
Remington told the driver to take them to the hotel- the quick way," he added, and then turned to look at Laura. "What's going on?"
She opened the newspaper to reveal the photograph of an elderly man. "Former Ambassador Alejandro Candares," she informed both men as they looked at the photograph. "Jack Gianelli's grandfather, who's going to be honored for his fifty years of service in the area of diplomacy - in two days."
"Jack has his eyes," Howard commented, and then shrugged as Remington and Laura looked at him. "I notice these things," he explained.
"Why do you think that Candares' being honored has anything to do with Jack bringing Racine here, Laura?" Remington asked. "He couldn't have known-"
"He *had* to have been planning this," Laura insisted. "We didn't move his timetable up at all! He was planning on kidnapping Racine last night - that's why he came back to the cellar. To get the things he needed to blow up that building!"
"What about that room in his cellar?" Remington countered, refusing to allow Laura's enthusiasm to infect him.
"Possibly his original intention was to put her there- but what better way to get down here than to use Racine's money to do it?" Laura said. "And at a time when the grandfather that he loathes is about to be made into a national hero?"
"It does make sense, Steele," Howard agreed. "Jack could have gone anywhere in the world with Racine. He had to have had a reason to come here, considering what he told me about never *wanting* to come here."
"It would also have been the last place anyone would have looked for him," Remington pointed out. "If Mildred and Daniel hadn't seen them at the airport, we might still have been looking for them."
"The question is - what is he planning to do?" Laura asked aloud, continuing her train of thought. "Confront Candares publicly, embarrassing him? Or something more sinister?"
After studying Laura's deteremined face for a moment, Remington made a decision. "Whatever he's planning," he said, "I think we should pay the Ambassador a visit."
TBC…