Laura endured the 'pat down' that one of Paretti's men did just after she entered the house. The place had a definite 'unlived in' air about it - made even more so by the fact that she could see dust covers over the furnishings in the living room. "I'm not armed," she told them, hoping that her statement would satisfy them. She sighed deeply, inside her head when it didn't work and the search continued. Apparently the wire she was wearing wasn't bulky enough for them to find, since the man stepped back once he was finished. He was one of two men that she'd spoken to earlier, and a third stood nearby, watching.
"She's clean," the thug announced.
"I *told* you I was," Laura crowed. "You really think I'd be stupid enough to bring a gun in here with me?"
"I think you're stupid for being here at all, lady," the third man informed her. "Come on." He paused for a moment to tell the other two, "Mr. Paretti should be arriving soon. Go out back and keep your eyes open."
"Mr. Paretti's not here?" Laura asked him.
"Not yet. This way."
"Then where are we going?" Laura asked. "Is Mr. Steele here?"
"You ask a lot of questions, lady."
"It's my job," she told him, maintaining her 'tough as nails' veneer, hoping that no one scratched too deeply below the surface.
"It's not a healthy thing to do around here," he told her, knocking on a closed interior door before opening it and stepping back he made a motion for her to go in ahead of him.
Laura entered the room, seeing the man from the park standing in front of Harry and her father. "You okay?" she asked Steele, ignoring the other man. She had to clamp down tightly on her soaring emotions at seeing Harry alive and apparently unharmed. The last thing these people needed to discover was that she and Remington Steele were anything more than employer and employee.
"For the moment, Miss Holt," he assured her. "I'm glad you're here, however. You can clear up a little -disagreement between Glen and us."
"By all means, Miss Holt," Glen said. "I'm anxious for you to do just that."
"What disagreement might that be, Mr. -" Laura began, turning to face the man.
"Just call me Glen," he said, nodding at the man.
"I don't have time for games, Glen," she insisted. "I'm here to talk to Mr. Paretti about letting Mr. Steele go. I don't care what disagreement you might have with Mr. - Douglas, isn't it?" she asked, finally looking at her father directly for the first time, secretly proud that she managed to keep her face totally neutral as he nodded in confirmation. "I just want Steele released."
Glen looked confused, then angry. "Now you're playing a game, Miss Holt," he insisted. "Don't pretend that you don't know who that man is."
"I assume that he's Tom Douglas, the man that Mr. Steele was meeting with this afternoon to discuss a case."
"You assume?"
"I've never met the man," she explained. "He and Mr. Steele were involved in an initial consultation about his case. I was busy on another one."
"Yet you showed up at the park," he accused.
"Simply to meet with them after I finished what I was doing," she replied smoothly.
"You're not going to convince me that he's not your father, Miss Holt."
Laura blinked, and then frowned as she looked at Tom, hoping that she looked suitably surprised by the idea. "*Him*? You think that *he* is my *father*? Ha!" She gave a laugh. "Not only was my father *taller* and more *handsome* than this guy, but he was a *coward* who deserted his family!" She spat out the words like they left a bad taste in her mouth. "A coward like my father would be begging for his life."
"See?" Tom said to Glen. "I told you that I'm not this Holt guy."
Glen's eyes narrowed as he looked from one to the other, finally ending up back on Laura. "No. You're trying to make me think he's not Holt."
"Look, I don't care what you do with him," Laura said. "I just want you to release Mr. Steele. He doesn't have anything to do with Mr. Paretti or my father. He's an innocent bystander."
"We're both innocent bystanders," Steele amended.
"Sometimes the innocent bystanders get caught in the crossfire," Glen pointed out.
Laura shrugged. "Fine. Have it your way. But you're going to look pretty incompetent and downright silly when Mr. Paretti arrives and tells you that you've got the wrong man."
"I'd hate to be in your shoes, mate," Steele agreed. "I don't think he'll like the idea that he came all the way back up here and risked being caught because you nabbed the wrong person."
"He's already on his way. He'll be angrier if you're not here when he arrives."
"It's your neck," Steele observed with an elegant lift of his shoulders.
"If I were in your place, I'd let us go and get out of here before Mr. Paretti arrives," Laura suggested. "Hide out until he returned to South America." She imagined that she could hear Agent Bailey wondering what the hell she was doing - but her first priority *had* to be to get them all out of this with their skins intact.
Glen glanced at Leo. "Go see if Mr. Paretti's here, Leo," he ordered, taking his weapon from the shoulder holster he was wearing. "I'll keep an eye on these three." Once Leo had left the room, Glen motioned toward Harry and Tom. "Untie 'em," he ordered, watching carefully as she did so.
"Thanks, Miss Holt," Tom said, trying to maintain the ruse. "I owe you one."
Harry rubbed his wrists as he and Tom rose to their feet from the chairs in which they'd been sitting. "What now, Glen?" he asked.
Glen motioned toward the door. "Let's go. We should be able to get outside and down the driveway."
"What about your friends?" Laura asked, leading the way out of the room.
"They can fend for themselves," Glen told her, his voice lowering as he began to look around, as though expecting someone to appear any moment. "We'll use the front door -" he told them, indicating that Laura should turn a corner -
When she did, it was only to find herself confronted by a large man with a very good tan - and hard dark eyes. Leo and his friends were behind him, and two other men - both clearly armed - were with them.
"Mr. Paretti," Glen gasped, his forehead breaking out in a sweat.
"Glen," Luciano Paretti said, his pleasant smile sending a chill up Laura's spine as his eyes moved from Glen to the man between herself and Harry. "Hello, Tom. It's been a long time."
"You - have the wrong man," Tom insisted. "I'm not Tom Holt. I've been trying to tell Glen -"
"Nonsense," Paretti said. "You're Tom Holt. I'd know you anywhere, even after all these years. And this is your daughter, isn't it? She's grown into a most attractive young woman," he said, his eyes growing cold again as they found Glen. "What were you doing, Glen?"
"I uh," Glen began, obviously unable to think quickly while under Paretti's accusing glare. "I thought I'd bring them out to meet you, Mr. Paretti," he lied.
"Through the front door, when you knew I'd come in the back?"
"I guess I - wasn't thinking," Glen began, and then broke down as he realized he'd been caught. "I got confused. He was trying to convince me that I had the wrong guy," he added, pointing toward Tom, as if he could somehow shift the blame.
"So you were going to just let them go?" Paretti questioned, moving toward the nervous gunman. "Perhaps disappear as well?"
"N-no," Glen tried to deny, backing up, the sweat running down his face in rivulets. "I knew it was him, I was just trying to see how far he'd go -"
"I don't like it when people lie to me, Glen," Paretti stated mildly. "Makes me think they can't be trusted."
"You can trust me, Mr. Paretti," Glen insisted, backing up another step as Paretti signaled one of his guards. Suddenly Glen wheeled around and made a break for the front door, throwing it open just as a blinding spotlight filled the opening and a voice called out over a loudspeaker. Glen staggered back as if he had been struck a physical blow.
"This is the FBI. Come out with your hands up and no one will get hurt," a bullhorn roared.
"Don't shoot!" Glen called out to them, lifting his hands. "I'm coming out!" He took a step forward, stiff legged, as if he were walking against a current.
One of the men with Paretti drew his gun and fired once, hitting Glen square in the back. The man turned, shocked horror on his face, and then collapsed onto the front steps.
"Close the door, Leo," Paretti ordered, turning to confront his three prisoners.
Laura stepped in front of her father and Harry, putting herself between them and the guns in the room. "Killing him now isn't going to help you, Paretti," she declared. "You might as well give it up."
"Actually, killing Mr. Holt will only exacerbate the situation," Harry agreed. "You won't be able to return to California as you planned."
"Not if they don't find your bodies," Paretti said. "We'll go out the back and get to the boat. People are lost at sea all the time…"
"They're at the back too, Mr. Paretti," one of Leo's friends informed him.
Paretti frowned. "How did they know I was here?" he wondered aloud.
Suddenly nervous, Laura fidgeted with her collar, and knew she'd made a mistake when Paretti's eyes saw the movement and narrowed. With one quick step he was in her face and took her collar in both hands. Laura gulped a quick breath as Harry and Tom, both changed their stances. Five guns swung as one to cover the outraged husband and the protective father.
"I wouldn't move," Paretti warned in that infuriatingly mild voice, "if I were you, Steele." His hard, dark eyes burned into Laura's soul. Harry and Tom frozen before the five guns held their position, still tensed to jump. Her brown eyes searched his face as a slight smile turned up the corners of his mouth.
With a sudden exertion he tore her blouse open. Popping like soft gunfire, the buttons flew, scattering around the corridor. Harry's jaw clinched so hard he thought his teeth would break. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tom's cheeks flush and his fists tighten. Revealed was a formerly hidden microphone and power pack.
Paretti slapped away Laura's hands that were attempting to cover her underwear. He reached out and jerked the microphone free before tossing it onto the ground and stepping on it. "Now that the extra ears are gone, we can talk freely."
"You still don't have a hope of getting out of here, Paretti," Laura said, holding her ruined blouse closed against the appreciative gazes of his men. "You might as well give it up."
"Let Steele and Laura go, Paretti," Tom said pleaded, "I'll do whatever you want." The indignity that his daughter had suffered because of him before the five leering gunmen was a sight he would never forget.
"No!" Laura insisted.
"Tom -" Harry began, but Tom shook his head.
"It's the only way."
"There's no way he can let any of us go," Harry insisted. "She and I are witnesses who can testify that the last time we saw you alive was in the company of Luciano Paretti and that Paretti's stated intention was to kill you so that you couldn't testify against him."
"Steele's right, Tom," Paretti confirmed. "I can't let any of you go. I'm rather surprised that you're so willing to defend him, Miss Holt. Considering the fact that he abandoned you the way he did -"
"I'm not defending him," Laura declared. "I'm trying to get Steele and myself out of here alive." She moved closer to Paretti, feeling the concern radiating off of the two men behind her. "I don't really care what you do with Tom Holt."
"Luciano Paretti!" the voice over the loudspeaker called out, and Laura recognized Bailey's voice. "Release your prisoners and come out."
"Mr. Steele and I might be able to buy you a little time," Laura told Paretti. "If we go out there and tell them that you've gone, they'll pull back and let you slip away with your prisoner."
"Laura -" Harry began, but Laura refused to acknowledge him. "Miss Holt -" he continued, his voice firmer.
"I'm looking out for us, Mr. Steele," she told him, but didn't look away from Paretti. "Well, Mr. Paretti? Do we have a deal?"
"You'd still be a liability," Paretti reminded her. "You'd know that I was going to kill Holt -"
"I can overlook that," she responded.
"What about you, Steele?" Paretti questioned. "Can you 'overlook' it?"
Laura held her breath, waiting to see if Harry would back her hand or sell her out. When his hand moved to her shoulder, she knew the answer, but hid her relieved sigh as he said, "Sorry, Tom. Have to consider the bigger picture here."
"Yeah," Tom agreed, sounding defeated. "I guess you do."
Paretti's dark eyes narrowed again, boring into hers, but Laura refused to let him see how frightened she was and held her ground. "Do we have a deal, Mr. Paretti?" she asked Holding her torn blouse with one hand, she held out the other to shake on the bargain.
Paretti took the proffered hand with a wolfish grin. "Give us a minute to reach the back of the house before you go outside," Paretti told her.
"Laura," Tom said as two of Paretti's men grabbed his arms to lead him away, "I'm sorry for hurting you. I hope you can forgive me someday."
Laura's jaw felt so tight she was afraid it might shatter if she moved. She stood there like a statue - pretending not to be moved by his words of apology. Harry's fingers moved against her shoulder in a comforting gesture and he spoke into her ear. "Are you okay?" She nodded. "Is this going to work?"
"It had better," she replied, moving toward the door. "Bailey! It's Laura Holt. Mr. Steele and I are coming out!"
She opened the door, blinking into the white light, and lifted her hands, aware that Harry was doing the same. Bailey appeared, looking behind them. "Where's Paretti and your father, Miss Holt?" he asked, already moving around the side of the building, with Laura and a confused Remington Steele following.
"They're gone," she said in response to his question, her voice loud so that anyone listening would hear.
"Okay, guys, pull back," Bailey ordered over the loudspeaker.
There were several gunshots behind the house, and Laura broke into a run, refusing to let Harry stop her. Sprawled on the ground, they found Paretti with two of his henchmen in a similar condition - and Tom Holt holding a rapidly spreading blood stain on his right shoulder. One of Bailey's men knelt beside Paretti and touched his fingers to the man's neck. Looking up, he shook his head, indicating that Paretti was dead.
"Daddy, are you okay?" Laura asked, rushing to his side.
"Yeah, honey," he assured her. "It's just a flesh wound. When he realized it was a trap, Paretti grabbed his gun and tried to finish me off about the same time that someone took him out. The shot went a little wide."
"Thank God for that," she said.
Tom looked at Harry over her head as he kept his arm around his daughter's shoulders. "Yeah. Thank God," he agreed.
=========================================================
While the paramedic took care of Tom's damaged wing, giving in to his insistence that it wasn't serious and just needed to be cleaned and bandaged, Harry stood with Laura, watching. "One question, Laura. How did the FBI know that Paretti and his men were heading toward the back door? He destroyed the microphone."
"*One* of them," Laura said with a grin. She was wearing his suit jacket over her damaged blouse, but opened the blouse and moved so that he could see the second mike taped to her upper back with a second power pack. "We figured that if Paretti found one of them and destroyed it, he would feel more secure and slip up."
"It was Miss Holt's idea," Agent Bailey explained as he and Ms. Andrews joined them. "We'll need to talk to you tomorrow, Mr. Holt. But with Paretti dead, you're out of danger."
"What about his associates?" Steele asked.
"They were hired guns," Bailey explained. "And won't bother to stick around long enough to do any harm without the promise of a payoff. Paretti's power base wasn't very strong in Southern California anyway these days."
"Thank you, Agent Bailey," Steele said, shaking the man's hand. "Ms. Andrews."
"Don't thank us," Andrews said. "It was all Miss Holt's doing." She turned to look at Laura. "If you ever decide you want to change jobs, give me a call. We could use someone with your drive and experience in the Justice Department, Miss Holt."
Laura's smile stretched from ear to ear. "Really?"
Steele put his arm across her shoulders. "Uh, I don't think that Miss Holt is going to be leaving the Remington Steele Agency anytime soon, Ms. Andrews."
"No," Andrews agreed with a knowing smile. "I don't suppose she would, all things considered. I'll be seeing you."
A news crew pulled into the drive and Bailey told Laura, "I hope you enjoy the spotlight, Miss Holt."
"Indeed," Steele agreed. "You're the woman of the hour."
======================================================
Murphy was dozing between sleep and wakefulness, when he heard something on the other patient's TV that brought him to full alert.
"This breaking news story involves a shoot out along the PCH north of LA. Former crime boss Luciano Paretti, long sought by the FBI and the Justice Department, was shot and killed by agents of the FBI while trying to leave the country with his one-time accountant, who has been in the witness protection program for the last ten plus years. The FBI was lead to Paretti's location by Los Angeles private detective Laura Holt, who works for the Remington Steele Agency. According to officials at the scene, Miss Holt was instrumental in the FBI's discovery of Mr. Paretti's location and the apprehension of several of his associates. More on this story as we get it."
The pictures they showed were of Laura, Steele, and the man that Murphy knew to be Laura's long-lost father, Tom Holt. "Well I'll be damned," Murphy muttered, and the other patient, a middle aged man, looked over at him.
"You know her?"
"Yeah," Murphy said with a grin. "I work with her."
"She must be one hell of a PI," the man said.
"She is indeed," Murphy agreed. "One of the best." And hopefully, now she realized it as well.
==========================================================
"About those things I said to Paretti," Laura told her father when they finally had a moment alone.
"I know you didn't mean them, Laura," Tom said.
"Not now. But there was a time when I would have," she confessed. "I was so angry and so hurt that you could just - walk away like that without looking back -"
"It was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life, honey," he explained gently, the emotion rising in his voice. "I knew you were watching, and I would have given anything if I could have explained, but I couldn't. It was too dangerous. I couldn't tell *anyone*. It was safer if you thought I just didn't care anymore." He took her hand in his. "But I did, Laura." A large tear rolled from his cheek and warmly landed on the back for her hand.
"I know that now. Now that I know *why* you did what you did. I guess you can - come home now?"
"Yeah. But you know what? I *like* running that B&B. I was a good accountant, but - to be honest - I hated the job. The only reason I stuck with it was because your mother liked the money I made."
"Mother!" Laura groaned, wiping tears from her own eyes.
"I'll have to see her-," Tom sighed deeply. "And Frances. If they *want* to see me."
"I'm sure they will - once they know what happened," Laura quickly assured him. "Mother's coming for a visit at the end of the week."
"She's still living in Connecticut?"
"Yes. Although she talks about moving out here since Frances and Donald moved last year."
"Frances and Donald are in California?"
Laura nodded. "Yes. Donald got a job teaching dentistry - you didn't know?"
"No. It was easy to keep up with what you were doing - you've been in the paper more than once," he said, and she smiled. "But I couldn't make inquiries about Frannie or your mother without raising some red flags."
"Tell you what, tomorrow, we'll go over there and see her if you'd like."
"Why not do it tonight?" Remington suggested as he joined them. "Fred's here. We can go."
"Fred?" Laura said, turning to see the limo coming up the drive. "I told him to go back to the office and wait."
When she questioned Fred about why he was still there, the chauffer had the grace to look a bit embarrassed. "Well, it just didn't sit right with me to just leave, Miss Holt," he explained. "Besides, if I'd gone back like you told me, how would you and Mr. Steele have gotten home?"
"You're right, Fred," she acknowledged, touched by his faith in her abilities. "Thank you."
"Just doing my job, Miss Holt." He tipped his cap, then closed the door behind them and got into the front. "Where to, Mr. Steele?"
"Miss Holt's house, I believe, Fred."
"My house? I thought we were going out to Tarzana -"
"Laura, it's late. I don't think that Frances would welcome our descending en masse at this hour. You can call her tomorrow and then you and Tom could go out there."
"But why my place?" Laura questioned.
"Tom needs a place to stay while he's in town," he pointed out.
"I don't want to be a bother," Tom began, but Laura lifted her hand.
"I have an extra room," she told him. "And I'm not there most of the time anyway. I'm usually at Harry's -"
"Harry? Who is Harry?" Tom asked her.
"Um - uh - Mr. Steele. That's what I call him -" she looked at her husband. "You didn't tell him?"
"I know how much you want to keep it quiet, Laura. Did you really think I'd spill the news to your father?"
"What news? I know the tabloids have indicated that you two are - more than boss and associate -"
"Just a *little* more, Daddy," Laura confirmed, taking Harry's hand in hers before she answered. "We're married."
"See?" Harry noted. "That didn't hurt, did it?"
"Now I understand why finding me was so important, Steele," Tom realized. "How long?"
"Almost six months," Harry answered. "We got married in Las Vegas after taking care of a case there."
"Why all the secrecy?"
"Ask Laura. It was her idea."
"You agreed to it," she reminded him.
"Only to make you happy," he said, lifting her hand to his lips.
"I didn't want people to think that I'd gotten the job with Harry for any reason other than my talent as an investigator," Laura explained to her father.
"There will always be some idiots out there who believe that, Laura," Tom pointed out. "But you know the truth. And so do those who care about you. The people that matter."
"I've missed you, Daddy," Laura said, turning to give him a hug. Tom winced a little at the pain from the gunshot wound that had left him in a sling, but returned the hug eagerly. Harry reached for the mobile phone and dialed a number, causing Laura to look at him. "Who are you calling?"
"Mildred. To let her and Daniel know we're okay. And to get an update on Murphy's condition." He frowned when the answering service picked up. "No answer," he told Laura.
=======================================================
"Just let me get my jacket," Daniel told Mildred as they entered the hotel room, only to stop as he heard Abigail Holt's voice from the bathroom.
"Is that you, Daniel?"
He froze, confused. "Abigail?"
She sounded apologetic. "I'll be right out. I hope you don't mind, but I asked the maid to let me in so I could surprise you -" The door opened, and her voice faded when she saw Mildred standing just inside the door. "Miss Krebs."
"Mrs. Holt. I thought you weren't due until the end of the week?"
"Oh, I decided that since Daniel tends to take off on a whim that I'd get here early so we could spend some time together."
"Actually, I've been thinking about settling here in Los Angeles," Daniel said, surprising both women. "For the time being, at least. It would allow me to spend more time with my son. I'm getting a bit long in the tooth to be chasing around the globe."
"I love to travel," Abigail sighed, taking his arm. "That month we spent in the South of France was wonderful," she said in a dreamy voice. Mildred remained by the door, giving Abigail a defiantly dangerous look.
Daniel was relieved when the telephone rang, giving him a reason to disentangle his arm from Abigail to answer. "Hello? . . . Harry." Daniel released the breath that he'd been unconsciously holding and lifted his eyes to seek out Mildred, who came over to him.
"Are they okay?" she wanted to know.
"Mildred wants to know if you and Laura are okay -" he smiled. "That's good news. And what about -" he glanced toward Abigail, "the client? . . . Good . . . I think you should know that Laura's mother arrived this evening . . ." he smiled at Abigail, who came forward.
"Is that Remington? Is Laura with him?"
"Just a moment, Harry," Daniel said, holding the telephone out to her. "He'd like to speak to you, Abigail."
"Hello, Remington," Abigail said into the telephone in her usual cheery tone. "What? . . . Well, yes, I suppose I could . . . very well. I'll get a cab and meet you there. I'm sure Daniel will understand . . . Why, yes. Of course . . . Good bye."
Daniel hoped that Abigail didn't see the deep sigh of relief at the news, and gave Mildred a smile and wink on the sly. He picked up Abigail's coat as she hung up the telephone. "I'm so sorry you have to go, Abigail. Another time, perhaps?" he suggested, hoping that what she would find at Laura's house would preclude any further reason for him to be forced to avoid the woman.
"Oh, but you're going with me, Daniel," she told him.
"What?"
"Yes. Remington was quite specific that I should bring you along. Something about wanting his family to be there." Her eyes widened. "Oh, Daniel. You don't suppose that my daughter has *finally* agreed to marry him, do you? Wouldn't that be just *wonderful*?"
"Abigail -" Daniel began, but she wasn't listening as she moved toward the door.
"I'll tell Remington and Laura that you'll see them tomorrow morning, Miss Krebs."
"I think Harry would want Mildred there as well, Abigail," Daniel informed her smoothly, surprising even Mildred.
"You do?" Abigail questioned, clearly put out by the idea of sharing any of Daniel's time with the other woman.
"He considers her to be part of his family."
"He does?" Mildred asked.
"He told me so himself," Daniel assured the woman. "Shall we go, ladies?"
=======================================================
"I'm glad to hear you're feeling better, Murphy," Steele said into the telephone as they waited for Abigail and the others to arrive. "I always knew that hard head of yours would come in handy one day."
"How are Laura and her father getting along?"
"Like old mates, Murphy," Steele said, looking to where his wife and father-in-law were talking. "We'll see you tomorrow."
"They should spring me tomorrow morning. See you at the office."
"How is he?" Laura asked.
"He's fine," Steele assured her. "And he doesn't blame you. Said he should have known better than to let you distract him."
She came over to rest her head on his shoulder. "I still feel responsible."
"Look at it this way, Laura. If you *hadn't* been there, it's possible that our being missing wouldn't have been noticed until it was too late. So for once, your going against the flow was a *good* thing."
"And I'd say that what you accomplished by getting us out of there more than made up for any mistakes you made earlier," Tom added.
The telephone rang, and Laura frowned before answering. "Hello?"
"Laura - Laura, what's going on?" her sister demanded to know.
"What do you mean, Frances?" she asked, meeting her father's eyes.
"We were watching the late news and saw the special report - you're a hero, Laura! My little sister is a real hero!"
Laura relaxed a little, and gave an embarrassed laugh. "Well, I wouldn't say that, exactly, Frances."
"Well *I* would. You know, I remember hearing about that man who was killed. The one who kidnapped Mr. Steele and his client? I think he was one of Daddy's clients before he left."
"Yes, he was, Frances," Laura confirmed. "That's why he kidnapped Mr. Steele and - the client."
"The man looked familiar, what little I saw of him."
"Really? Frances, could you come into town for lunch tomorrow? You and Donald?"
"Why? Is everything okay, Laura - oh my God."
"What?" Laura asked, and motioned for Harry to turn on the TV as she heard one on in the background over the phone. He flipped through the channels, then stopped as a reporter was talking, a photograph of Tom Holt on the screen.
"The identity of the man rescued with Los Angeles high-profile detective Remington Steele by Steele's associate Laura Holt has been unknown until now. But this reporter has discovered that the man, who has been using the name Thomas Douglas and owns a bed and breakfast in the north, is in actuality Thomas Holt, who was placed in the witness protection program ten years ago when he discovered evidence against his client Luciano Paretti which, if prosecuted, would have sent Mr. Paretti to prison for at least twenty years."
"Laura?" Frances' voice was weak and uncertain.
"Yes, Frances?"
"Is it true? Is he -?"
Laura turned uncertain eyes toward her father, and relaxed as he took the phone from her fingers. "Hello, Frannie," he said into it.
"D-daddy?"
"Yes, honey. It's me."
Laura wiped a tear from her cheek, turning away as she saw Harry watching her. He turned the TV off and followed her into the kitchen, where he pulled her into his arms. "Thank you," she told him.
"For what?"
"Finding him. Even if it did almost get all three of us killed."
"That *wasn't* part of my plan," he informed her.
"And just what was your plan, Mr. Steele?" she questioned, running a finger along his lapel.
"Oh, that you'd be so overwhelmed with gratitude for my having found your father that you'd agree to make a public announcement about our marriage - come out of the shadows, as it were."
"Well, I think I made a start at that tonight," she said. "By telling Daddy about us."
"Now you have to tell your mother," Harry said, and Laura gave a long-suffering sigh.
"I don't think I'll have much choice. Between you, Daddy, and Daniel, I'm backed into a corner."
"And you know what they say about backing someone into a corner -"
"They're even more dangerous," Laura finished, sliding her arms around his neck - only to stop when they heard the front doorbell. Her forehead dropped onto his chest. "Mother."
She felt the rumbling in Harry's chest before he said, "Buck up, Laura, luv. Time to face the music and dance."
"Must I?"
"Laura?" Tom said, appearing in the door. "I think your mother's here."
Laura nodded and took a deep breath, only to sigh when the doorbell gave way to an impatient knocking. "I'm coming!" she called out, moving out of the kitchen and through the living room to the front door. "Hello, Mother," she said, accepting Abigail's brief kiss.
"Really, Laura. I can't believe you kept us standing out there on the porch for such a long -" Abigail's voice faltered as she looked across the room. "Tom?" she asked, looking as though she wasn't sure he was really there.
"Hello, Abby."
"Oh no," Harry muttered, moving quickly to catch Abigail as she fainted.
=======================================================
"Mother?" Laura said as Abigail began to stir. She removed the damp cloth from her mother's forehead and watched carefully.
Abigail opened her eyes and looked around. "Laura. I thought - I must be going crazy. I thought I saw you father."
"You did," Laura confirmed.
"What?" She looked around the bedroom again. "You mean, he's here? *Really* here?"
"He's in the living room," Laura said. "After your reaction to seeing him, we decided it might be best if I talk to you first and try to explain -"
"Explain? Explain?! Laura how can you *possibly* hope to explain what he did? He *abandoned* us! Left us to fend -"
"He left us with a sizeable investment portfolio," Laura reminded her mother. "So that you never had to go to work unless you wanted to -"
"You're *excusing* what he did!" Abigail accused.
"Mother, he didn't have a choice. He left to protect us."
"Oh, I'm sure he has some kind of story. I just can't believe you've bought it. Of course, you always believed everything *he* told you. You were always his favorite. Even Frances knew that."
Laura took a deep breath. "Mother! Would you *please* just be quiet and listen to me?!" Abigail's jaw dropped as Laura spoke. "Daddy found out that one of his clients was involved in organized crime and went to the authorities about it. He was going to testify, but the man disappeared, left the country -"
"Oh, come now, Laura -"
"Quiet," Laura reiterated firmly. "So the FBI decided that Daddy was in danger as long as the man was on the loose and put him into the witness protection program. They gave him a new name, a new life. He knew that you and Frances would have hated having to live that way, so he chose to leave us to *protect* us."
"Are you telling the truth, Laura?"
"Yes, Mother. It's the truth. Harry decided to try and find Daddy and when he did, the man he was hiding from got wind of it and came back to try and kill him. The FBI got there first and the man's dead - and so Daddy's free to come out of hiding."
"He's coming home, then?"
"You'll have to talk to him about his plans, Mother," Laura said, uncertain about how her mother would react to Tom's decision to remain in Northern California running a bed and breakfast instead of going back to being a high-power accountant.
"I suppose I do need to talk to him, don't I?"
"Yes, you do. But there's something I need to talk to you about, Mother."
"Oh?" Abigail asked, getting off the bed and moving to the mirror over the dresser, where she examined her reflection, only half listening to Laura.
"About six months ago, Harry and I were in Las Vegas after a case, and well, - he asked, and I said yes, and - Mother, are you listening to me?"
"Of course I am, Laura, dear. You and Remington were in Las Vegas and he asked -" Abigail's eyes grew as big as saucers as she met Laura's in the mirror. She turned around. "Laura! Are you telling me that you and Remington are -?"
"Married," Laura confirmed, wincing.
"How *wonderful*! Of course, I would have preferred to have actually been *invited* -"
"No one was. No one here knew about it until we got back."
"And who knows now?"
Laura winced again. "Daniel. And Mildred. And Murphy. And - Daddy."
"I see. Why keep a secret, Laura? I don't understand."
"The reasons don't matter anymore, Mother," Laura said. "I'm telling you now."
"And I can tell everyone else that my daughter's married to one of the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles?"
Laura sighed. "I suppose so." She needed a way to get Abigail's mind off of this, and grabbed at he first thing that came to mind. "I'll go get Daddy now."
"Oh. Your father. Oh. Yes. Send him in. I think it's time I talked to him." She smoothed her dress. "Do I look all right, dear?"
"You look wonderful, Mother," Laura assured her. "I'll send him right in."
=======================================================
"Okay, Daniel, I told her," Laura said once Tom went into the bedroom.
"Honestly?"
"Honestly. She knows that Harry and I have been married for six months. She's *delighted*."
"As well she should be," Daniel pointed out. "Harry's a great catch."
"Augh!!!!" Laura said, turning and heading for the kitchen.
Steele followed, frowning. "Don't let Daniel get to you, Laura," he said, sliding the door closed behind him to give them some privacy."
"I'm sorry," she said. "But between him and my mother and everything that's happened today -" She looked up into his blue eyes. "I could have lost you. I don't like that idea."
"I'm not exactly enamored of the idea myself," he confided, slipping his arms around her. "I knew you'd come to my rescue - but I was terrified at the very idea of you putting yourself into that kind of danger."
"At least - we would have gone together," Laura pointed out.
"Ah, but I have plans for the future with you, Mrs. Steele."
"Is that so?"
"Hmmm. Such as sneaking out of here and going home. Just the two of us. We'll have a late dinner and then spend the rest of the night in bed?"
"I'm not sleepy," she said.
"Who said anything about sleep?" he clarified with a sexy smile.
Laura returned the smile. "I do like the way you think, Harry." She looked behind him. "What about the others?"
"I'm sure Tom and Abigail will be occupied for most of the night. And I've no doubt that Daniel will see Mildred safely home."
"Are you upset about that friendship?" she asked.
"Daniel and Mildred?" he shook his head. "Not at all." He opened the back door. "Shall we, Mrs. Steele?"
Laura stopped long enough to give him a long kiss before slipping away, leaving him to follow.
One thing was for certain - life was defiantly *not* dull with Laura, Steele told himself as he followed her teasing laughter toward the waiting limo.
Inside the limo, Steele told Fred to take them to Rossmore, and then sat back as Laura molded herself against him. "I do have one question, Harry," she said.
"Only one?"
"What's the password for your files on my computer?"
"Our anniversary," he answered simply.
Laura grinned. "You're an old softie, Remington Steele," she accused.
"Really, Laura. My reputation."
"It'll be our secret," she promised, her lips on his, and then there was silence as the car continued down the street.
The End