Laura watched as the man at her side stared out of the window in silence as the taxi in which they were passengers approached the hotel. Finally she placed a hand over his where it lay on his thigh, and squeezed gently.
"Harry?" She waited until he turned those blue eyes toward her, refusing to flinch at the pain they revealed. "You did the right thing, telling him."
"Did I? Telling an old man that his grandson is possibly a murderer, that he *is* an attempted murderer and kidnapper, and that he very likely intends to make an attempt on that same old man's life?" He shook his head. "I should have found another way."
"You'd like to see them together, wouldn't you? A happy ending?"
"There but for the Grace of God, eh?" he suggested with a wry expression as he sat back. "I suppose some of this *does* fall back onto my own checkerboard existence as a youngster."
"And your relationship with Daniel?" Laura suggested softly.
"Perhaps. But at least Daniel and I have settled any lingering issues between us. For the most part." He turned to look at her. "Tell me, Laura, if your father were to walk back into your life-"
"You're wondering what I'd do," Laura guessed. "How I'd react after everything that's happened." It was her turn to study the panorama outside of the windows. She finally lifted her shoulders. "Honest answer? I don't know? I'm not that same sixteen year old girl who sat at the front window and watched her father walk out of her life without one backward glance."
Remington's fingers turned her face toward his. "You're sure about that?"
"I'm not saying that I'd welcome him with open arms or anything," she hedged. "But I wouldn't turn around and walk away, either. At least, I hope I wouldn't. Everyone makes mistakes." Seeing his expression, she smiled. "Even you, Remington Harrison Steele. People fall in love, and then fall back out. They change. Sometimes, that change brings them closer, sometimes it pulls them apart."
She felt his arms slide around her as he pulled her closer. "No matter what changes are in store for us, Laura, I'll always be here for you. I hope you know that."
"I do. It's taken me awhile, but I do."
"Good," he declared, and lowered his lips to hers as the cab came to a hard stop, causing him to look behind Laura. "It appears we've arrived at our destination," he told her with an air of disappointment.
She giggled. "Foiled again."
"Apparently so," he agreed as the cab driver opened the door for them. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the fare and a tip. "Gracias," he told the man before taking Laura's elbow and heading into the hotel lobby.
As they passed the desk, the clerk called out. "Senor Whitewood!"
"Ah, Senor Garza," Remington said as he and Laura approached the smiling man. "Another message, perhaps? My wife's mother?"
"Oh, no, senor," Garza said, still smiling. "I thought you would like to know that your friend Senor Armendariz' wife is no longer in the hotel."
"Indeed?" Remington questioned, giving Laura a knowing look.
"Senor Armendariz informed me that she has gone to visit some friends in the country. For her health."
"I'm sorry that we missed her," Laura sighed.
"Senor Armendariz asked me to give you this, senor," Garza said quickly, sliding a white envelope with the hotel crest on it, and "Mr. and Mrs. Reggie Whitewood" written in a scrawling hand. Remington lifted an eyebrow in silent query, causing the clerk to pale a bit. "I -might have mentioned that you and the senora had been inquiring about him and his wife," he admitted.
"Thank you, Senor Garza," Remington said, taking the envelope. "Would you happen to know if Senor Armendariz is in the hotel at the moment?"
"The last time I saw him, he was going toward the elevators -"
"I see," Remington nodded, turning toward the elevators as well. Laura remained at his side as he opened the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of paper.
"What's it say?" she asked.
Remington read the writing, and felt the blood drain from his face as he muttered, "Good Lord." Shoving the paper into Laura's hands, he went back to the desk. "Senor Garza!" he called, looking beyond the desk into the office area.
Laura joined him after a moment, just as the clerk appeared.
"Si, Senor Whitewood?"
"You have to evacuate the hotel," Remington insisted.
"Evacuate the hotel?" Garza repeated, looking at Remington as if he feared that the man had lost his mind.
"Let's not create a panic, Senor Garza," he admonished, keeping his tone even and low in that way he had so his voice wouldn't carry beyond the desk. It was a talent that Laura often envied in him. "It's a possibility that someone might have planted a bomb in our suite."
Garza's dark eyes widened in terror, and he burst out, "A-" then stopped as he caught sight of Remington's face. "A bomb?" he repeated once again. "Senor-"
"Call your local police, whoever you need to, but get everyone out of the hotel."
"But- How?" Garza asked, already picking up the telephone.
"How about a fire drill," Laura suggested.
"Si, si," Garza nodded. "Hola," he said into the telephone.
***
Two hours later, police sergeant Valdez approached a wary Remington and Laura, holding a black box in his hands. "Would you care to explain this, Senor- Whitewood?" he asked. "And how you knew that someone placed it in your room? And *why* they would have wished to do so?"
"Sergeant Valdez," Remington began, but the man shook his head, handing the box to another officer, who carried it to the back of the police bomb disposal unit truck.
"Or perhaps I should ask Remington Steele?" the man suggested.
"I think the jig is up," Laura said to Remington out of the corner of her mouth as he tugged at his ear with embarrassment.
"It is customary, Senor Steele, for a detective to check in with the local authorities if he is pursuing a case in another jurisdiction," Valdez pointed out.
"I would have," Remington noted. "But I wasn't here on a case." Valdez' dark eyebrows rose toward his baldhead in disbelief as Remington pulled Laura close to his side. "We're on honeymoon, actually."
Valdez' eyes narrowed with suspicion as he looked from Remington to Laura and then back again. "And why the assumed name?"
Laura smiled at the man, placing her hand against Remington's chest. "Privacy, Sergeant," she explained. "It's very difficult for H- for Remington to go anywhere without the press following his every move. We simply wanted some time alone. Surely you can understand?"
"Then why would someone place a bomb in your hotel suite?" Valdez questioned. "I was unaware that you had any enemies in Argentina, Senor Steele."
"A man in my line of work makes many enemies, Sgt. Valdez," Remington said. "I received a letter from someone that I was pursuing in the states, but he gave me the slip. He implied that he had planted a bomb in our room."
"May I see this letter?" Valdez questioned.
Remington patted his pockets, searching, and then smiled regretfully. "I seem to have - misplaced it."
"If you happen to find it- I would like to see it," Valdez stated. "What were you chasing this man for?"
"He was involved in a case back in Los Angeles," Remington explained. "Beyond that, I can't say more. Client confidentiality, you understand."
"And you believe that this man is now in Buenos Aires?"
"The letter was hand delivered to the hotel," Remington confirmed, and as the Sergeant's gaze turned toward where a still shaken Antonio Garza was shepherding guests back into the hotel, he added, "I've already questioned Senor Garza about the man who left it. Very non-descript. Average height, average build, average- everything."
Laura and Remington both gave Valdez smiles as he studied them. "Where were you while this man was planting this bomb?"
"Paying a courtesy visit on Alejandro Candares," Remington informed him.
"If you ask him, he'll confirm that we were there for most of the afternoon," Laura added.
"Oh, I intend to speak to the Ambassador, Senora Steele," Valdez promised. "How much longer do you intend to remain in Buenos Aires, Senor Steele?"
Laura's chin came up. "We haven't decided yet," she informed the sergeant. "We only arrived this morning. And a honeymoon is *customarily* longer than one day."
"It would not even have been that long if your husband had not received that letter, Senora," Valdez pointed out. "Which makes me wonder - why *did* this person--" his eyes narrowed again, "does he have a name?"
"Jack Gianelli," Remington answered.
"Why did this- Jack Gianelli see fit to warn you at all? Why not simply allow you to go into that room and be killed?"
That thought had crossed Laura's mind as well- and as she glanced at Remington, she could see that she wasn't alone. "To- keep us busy, maybe?" she suggested.
"Of course!" Remington declared, slapping his forehead with his open palm. "How could I have been so - Sergeant, could you get us out to Ambassador Candares estate?"
Valdez frowned. "And what does this have to do with the Ambassador, senor?" he asked.
"I'll be happy to answer any questions, Sgt. Valdez," Remington promised as he took Laura's arm and started toward Valdez' police cruiser, "as long as you get us to Candares' as quickly as possible."
"Why?" Valdez insisted as he joined them.
"To prevent a murder," was Remington's response.
***
As Valdez drove the police car toward the edge of town, he glanced into the rearview mirror at his passengers. "You promised an explanation, Senor?"
"It's entirely my fault, really," Laura insisted, answering before Remington could. "Well, it is," she insisted when Remington turned to look at her with questioning eyes. "My hobby?" she prodded, then to Valdez, "You see, I have this hobby of studying police files. Mostly ones that are unsolved and were closed for various reasons."
"Ah," Remington nodded, giving her a small smile of approval at her quick thinking for a cover story. "That hobby."
"I came across something in the files of the New York Police Department about the murder of a woman almost twenty years ago. The woman was born in Argentina, and had married an Italian-American policeman, who deserted her soon after the wedding. She gave birth to her son, Jack Gianelli, and raised him alone as best she could. She was arrested several times for prostitution, but her son was never taken from her by the authorities. When her son was sixteen, the woman was found in an alleyway. Someone beat her to death. The son was questioned, and insisted that she had promised to give up the streets, to find a "real job" like he'd been begging her to do for some time. But authorities found evidence that she had still been seeing 'clients'. They decided that one of those 'clients' had probably killed her, and with a lack of physical evidence to prove who that might have been, they closed the case and filed it away."
"Very sad, senora," Valdez agreed. "And interesting. But beyond the fact that the woman was born in Argentina, I can see no connection between the case and Ambassador Candares."
"Maria Gianelli's name before she married was Candares, Sergeant," Remington stated.
Valdez' eyes widened in surprise. "The Ambassador has no children. His only daughter died of a fever while he was assigned as Ambassador to the United Nations."
"She didn't die of a fever," Laura told the man. "That was a cover story that the Ambassador put out to hide the fact that his daughter had disobeyed him and married a man who was only looking for what he could get out of marrying an Ambassador's daughter."
"Again, interesting, but I fail to see-"
"When my wife delves into these cases, she tends to do a bit of investigation herself," Remington clarified. "She discovered that after his mother's death, Jack Gianelli spent a couple of years in foster homes, and then joined the Marines. He spent ten years in the service, was honorably discharged, and that he was now living in Los Angeles."
Valdez nodded thoughtfully.
"So I went to interview him about his mother's death," Laura explained. "I told him that I was trying to find out who killed her, and he said that I shouldn't bother, that it didn't matter - his mother was dead, and even if she came back, she wouldn't change."
"He confirmed that she had gone back to prostituting herself, then?"
"More or less," Laura nodded, and saw Remington's half smile. She hid her own smile as she continued the fabrication. "I told him that I couldn't just drop it," she said. "And that I intended to bring his mother's killer to justice with or without his help."
"The next day, someone attempted to kill us by placing a bomb in our apartment," Remington continued. "It would have worked if Laura hadn't disarmed it with seconds to spare."
Laura met Valdez' gaze in the mirror. "Gianelli's specialty in the Army was explosives," she confirmed.
"When that failed, he lured us into an abandoned warehouse and set off another explosion- this one by remote control that nearly succeeded. We were lucky and managed to escape."
"It sounds to me as if you and your wife are very lucky, Senor Steele," was Valdez' wry comment. "And so you came to Argentina for a honeymoon- why?"
"After we were rescued from the warehouse," Remington explained, "we discovered that Gianelli had taken a flight to Buenos Aires under the name Fernando Armendariz. He convinced a wealthy young woman to bring him here. She left to return to Los Angeles almost immediately for some unknown reason, but he stayed. I spent a few months in your country as a youth, and always wanted to return, so we decided that we would come down here, warn the Ambassador, and then spend a few days soaking up the local color."
"And you did not see fit to alert the local police to the possible danger?"
"We wanted to speak with the Ambassador first, in case he didn't want the publicity," Laura pointed out. "He didn't. You yourself thought that his daughter died thirty-six years ago. To be forced to admit publicly after all these years that he basically abandoned his only child in New York out of wounded pride -"
"I can see your point, Senora Steele," Valdez agreed as he turned the car into the gate that led to Alejandro Candares' house. "Everything looks quite peaceful and serene," he commented, opening his door and getting out as Laura and Remington followed suit.
"Looks can be deceiving, Sergeant," Remington drawled as his eyes scanned the building and surrounding area for any sign of trouble.
The young maid who had brought tea earlier opened the door in response to the summons, and smiled at Laura and Remington. "We need to speak to the Ambassador again," Remington told her.
"He is busy with another visitor, Senor Steele," she explained, stepping back as she spoke. "But I am certain that he will see you as soon as he is finished. If you will please wait in here-" she indicated a sitting room. "I will let him know you are here."
"Thank you," Remington told the young woman. "And please tell him it's very important."
"I will," the maid promised. "Can I get you something while you are waiting? Some tea? Or coffee?"
"Thank you, but, we're fine," Laura answered for all three, and the maid left the room, closing the door behind her.
"I hope this is not a- wild goose chase, Senor Steele," Sgt. Valdez commented.
"Believe me, Sergeant, I've chased more than my share of wild geese," Remington assured the policeman. "Jack Gianelli blames the Ambassador for everything wrong in his life. The hard times he and his mother had; her lack of training which caused her to fall into the clutches of people in New York who turned her into something he hated-."
"You believe that this man killed his mother, don't you?" Valdez asked, looking at Laura.
"Why else would he be so determined to stop our investigation?" Laura asked. "There were unsolved murders of men that Maria Gianelli had been with in the week before her death as well. That's what attracted me to the case to begin with. A chain of murders, all tied to the same person."
"Like- throwing a pebble into a still lake," Valdez murmured. "The ripples move ever outward."
"Something like that-" Remington nodded as the door came open and the young maid returned, concern on her face.
"Senor Steele!"
"Yes? Is something wrong?" Fear struck Remington. "Has something happened to the Ambassador?"
"I do not know," she answered. "I knocked on his study door, intending to inform him that you and your wife were here to speak to him again- but there was no response. So I went inside- he was not there."
"Perhaps he went for a walk?" Valdez suggested, causing the maid to look at him.
"No, Sergeant," she insisted. "He would not have done so. Ambassador Candares is a man of habit. He never leaves the house without informing someone. I have checked. He told no one that he was going out."
"When did you last see him?" Laura asked.
"When I showed Senor Armendariz into his study," the girl said.
"Fernando Armendariz?" Remington asked.
"Si. He said he was an aide to the President, come to talk to the Ambassador about the celebrations they are planning." The young woman was nearly in tears as she went toward Candares' study with the group.
Inside, Remington looked around the empty room, and then looked at Valdez. "It appears that we are too late," Valdez commented.
Remington gave the police man a look, and then asked the maid, "Is there another way out of here?"
She nodded, wiping her cheeks and pointed to a wall hanging. "There is a door behind that. The Ambassador often referred to it as his "escape hatch". But he always told someone if he was going to use it. "I looked-"
"Where does it lead?" Remington questioned, cutting her off.
"To the courtyard behind the house," she explained. "But I looked out there. He was not there."
Valdez looked at the young woman as Remington opened the door. "Go back to your duties. We will find the Ambassador."
"Gracias," she told him.
Laura glanced at Valdez. "You're not going to call in the police?"
"You said that the Ambassador does not want any publicity. I will do what I can to abide by that desire. This country owes a great deal to Alejandro Candares. He is a hero. If he had chosen to become President, there is none who could have stood against him."
The outer gate to the courtyard was unlatched, but the graveled walkway yielded no clues. Once out of the walled area, however, Laura found a branch broken off of one of the bushes that framed the gate- that led them to the right, and toward a series of barns and outbuildings.
"Come on," she said Remington and Valdez. But Remington stood there, studying the broken greenery, and eyeing the buildings beyond Laura and Valdez. "What are you waiting for?" Laura wanted to know. "He could kill the Ambassador-"
Remington's gaze fell in the opposite direction, toward a small copse of trees. Looking closely, he could make out the footprints in the grass. "They went this way. Gianelli's trying to turn us in the wrong direction. Just as he did at the hotel. He's trying to buy time."
Without another word, he moved off toward the trees, leaving Laura and Valdez no choice but to follow him.
There was a path leading through the woods, and Remington paused, studying it. "Well, senor?" Valdez questioned. "Do we continue?"
"It would help if we knew where this path leads," Remington said thoughtfully.
"To the Candares family burial ground, I believe," Valdez informed him. Seeing Remington and Laura's looks, he lifted his shoulders. "The estate is open for tours when the Ambassador is not in residence. It is of vast importance to the history of this area. I took the tour many times when I was a school-boy."
"Is there another way in?" Remington asked.
"You could go around the copse, I believe. It would bring you to the side of the graveyard -"
"Then I want you and Mrs. Steele to go on down this trail- I'll go around the side."
"Would it not make more sense for *me* to go around, Senor Steele?" Valdez suggested. "He will be expecting you and your wife. But not a policeman. If you and your lovely wife can distract Senor Gianelli for a moment, perhaps I can save the Ambassador from whatever fate his grandson has planned for him."
Remington nodded. "Very well. We'll go on ahead, then." He offered his arm to Laura. "Shall we, Mrs. Steele?" he asked.
"Once more into the breech, Mr. Steele," she agreed as Sgt. Valdez disappeared around the edges of the woods.
The copse opened into a small glade, over which several mausoleums and headstones stood in silent testament to the Candares family line.
"Please," a weary voice begged from the other side of one of the mausoleums. "I swear to you. If I had known-"
Remington and Laura exchanged a look of recognition at the sound of Alejandro Candares' voice and then ran in the direction from which it had come.
Rounding the corner of the weathered stone building, Remington grabbed Laura, pulling her back as he saw the Ambassador kneeling before a headstone, looking up at his grandson's sneering face.
"She should have been buried here," Jack declared, his voice low and dangerous. "Not in some pauper's grave that was paid for by the city of New York. She belonged *here*! But *you* didn't want anything to do with her."
"I didn't *know*!" Candares insisted, and when he moved, Remington could make out the shadow of some kind of vest around his chest.
Jack grabbed the old man's shoulder with one hand. "She *told* me that she contacted you. That you refused to accept her calls; returned her letters to you, begging for money to come home!"
"She never - I never received any calls, any letters. The only one I sent was returned because she had moved."
"And you never tried to find her?" Jack accused. "To find *us*?"
His other hand held a small black box, and his thumb was on the button, pressing it. Remington pointed it out to Laura, and then pulled her back, frowning as he wondered where Valdez was.
"No one knew where she had gone," Candares responded.
Keeping his voice low, he said, "We have to get to Valdez. If he does anything to cause Gianelli to remove his thumb from that box, that explosive laden vest that the Ambassador is wearing will explode."
"I'm small," Laura offered. "Maybe I can work my way through the graveyard and find him."
"And get caught in the crossfire," Remington said, shaking his head.
"Then what do you suggest?" Laura asked.
"Try to talk Gianelli out of committing patricide?" he suggested.
She winced. "I wish I had a better idea." When she would have followed him back to the corner, he put a hand to her arm.
"Stay here." He indicated the stone building beside them. "If I fail, this will offer some protection, anyway.
"And what about you?"
"I'll dive for cover," he said with a grim smile. "Worked before."
"How's your ankle?"
He looked down at it as if he'd forgotten about the injury he'd suffered. "Almost good as new. It wasn't sprained. Stay here," he ordered, and then leaned down to give her a long kiss.
"Be careful, Harry," she told him as the kiss ended, her hand touching his cheek. "We have a honeymoon to finish, remember?"
"Believe me, Mrs. Steele," he said, bringing her hand to his lips for a second. "I remember."
Laura watched him disappear around the building, and glanced around, suppressing the shiver she felt, when her eyes caught sight of Sgt. Valdez, gun in hand, moving around the edge of the low fence around the cemetery's perimeter. She waved her arms in an attempt to get his attention, but he was apparently wholly focused on the scene behind the mausoleum and didn't see her.
So Laura decided that she had one course of action. Get to him before he got within shooting distance of Jack Gianelli and blew them all up.
Another glance at the corner around which Harry had vanished, and Laura set off in an attempt to intercept Valdez.
TBC