Remington nodded absently, picking up his messages. "Dr. Becker just wanted to finish all of the outpatient testing today. I'm sure he'll tell you about it later."

"Oh. How did things go with Mr. Davis?"

"I'll let Laura fill you in," Remington told her. He lifted the message slip. "Some calls I need to return." He turned toward his office and closed the door behind him.

"What's eating him?" Mildred asked, noticing the fleeting look of concern on Laura's face. "Daniel's okay, isn't he?"

"Daniel's fine," Laura hastened to reassure her. "Dr. Becker thinks he's found something that might help."

"He has?"

"An experimental drug treatment. Daniel wasn't sure about agreeing to it, but I'm hoping that Remington and I convinced him to give it try."

"How experimental?" Mildred asked.

"I'm sure he'll tell you all about it tonight, Mildred," Laura responded. She glanced at the telephone, then turned toward her own office. "What time is the next appointment?"

Mildred didn't even have to consult her book. "An hour. Mrs. Dawes. The file's on your desk."

"Let me know when she arrives. I'm going to catch up on some paperwork."

"But-" Mildred began, only to find herself alone in the reception area as she finished, "-you didn't answer my question about Mr. Steele."

In her office, Laura removed her coat and hat, then laid her purse on the desk. Another glance at the telephone, then she went to the connecting door and opened it without knocking.

He was standing at the window, hands in his pockets. "I thought you had some calls to make," Laura said pointedly, leaning against the door frame.

"Just wanted to think about some things," he said, not looking at her.

"Daniel?"

"He's part of it."

Laura moved to join him at the window. "He'll take the treatment, Remington," she said, putting her hand on his arm. "And it will work. I'm sure of it."

Remington nodded but didn't speak.

"That's not what you're thinking about, is it?"

Remington gently disentangled himself from Laura's hold and turned to sit down in the chair at his desk, where he picked up the phone. "I do have some calls to make, Laura-"

Laura took the phone and hung it up. "To who?"

Remington picked up the phone again. "Claus, for one."

It took Laura a moment to remember who Claus was. "Your fencing instructor?" she questioned, taking the phone away again. "WHAT is so important that you have to call him right now?"

"I was scheduled for a session this afternoon. I have to cancel-"

"Why?" She smiled and slipped into his lap, putting herself bodily between him and the phone. "Unless you've decided to get your exercise another way," she teased, pulling the knot of his tie loose and unfastening the collar button in a deft movement.

Taking her hands in his, Remington told her, "I'm calling because I've got other things on my mind at the moment. Fencing requires concentration that I simply can't seem to achieve right now." Retaining his hold on her wrists with one of his, he reached over her to pick up the phone and dial a number.

Laura pulled, trying to free her hands, but Remington refused to let her go as Claus answered. "Ah, Claus. Steele here." Realizing that he wasn't going to let her go, Laura laid her head on Remington's shoulder and began laying biting little kisses against his neck. "I'm afraid that I-" he fidgeted, trying to stop Laura. But without his hands, he couldn't do it. "Sorry, Claus. . . Now, where was I?" He sent Laura a warning look, but she just smiled and redoubled her efforts. "Just a moment, Claus." He pressed the "Hold" button on the phone and laid it down. "Laura, you're making it difficult for me to -"

"Good. I was hoping I had your attention," she told him.

"Mrs. Dawes is due in an hour," he reminded her.

Laura stared at him in surprise. "I had to ask Mildred when the next client was due. How did YOU know?"

Remington simply smiled and lifted his shoulders before bringing her hands to his lips for a light kiss and then releasing them. "I DO occasionally check the appointment book, you know. Now let me finish this call and we'll go over the file- IF you'll go and get it from your office."

Laura pressed herself close to him and gave him a long, deep kiss, then slipped out of his lap and went toward her office door. "I won't be a moment," she promised.

Remington picked up the telephone and pressed the button. "Sorry, Claus. A client demanding my attention . . . Hmmm, I'm afraid so . . . I know, I know. It's the second time I've had to cancel, but it can't be helped. Can we reschedule for next week sometime? . . . I'll call. Thank you . . ." he smiled at Claus's response and hung up just as Laura returned with the specified folder.

"There's not much here," she told him, flipping through the sparse contents. "Mildred handled the preliminary interview, I think-"

Remington nodded. "Since she'd had experience in retrieving lost dogs for clients, it seemed a good idea." He fastened his shirt buttons and righted his tie as he spoke.

"A lost dog," Laura sighed. "I can't believe we agreed to take this case. Whatever happened to not taking animal cases?"

"Went by the wayside- along with divorce surveillance," Remington reminded her. "Have to pay the bills somehow, remember?"

"I know, but a dog-napping?"

"Well," Remington reminded her as he joined her in the conference area, "this dog happens to be worth over a half a million dollars."

Laura looked at the photograph of the Great Dane and shook her head. "How did someone kidnap a HUGE monster like this?"

"Boggles the mind, eh, Miss Holt?" Remington asked, smiling at her as he took the photograph. "Nice dog, though."

"'Marmaduke'," Laura murmured.

"The Ugly Dachshund," Steele corrected. "Suzanne Pleshette, Dean Jones, Walt Disney, 1966-"

"Even *I* remember that one, Mr. Steele. The question remains: how did someone kidnap him?"

"According to Mrs. Dawes, Hero was alone, there was no sound, and the alarm system never went off."

"He didn't bark?" Laura asked.

"Not once, as far as she remembers."

Laura grabbed the file and started reading. "She's not his owner."

"His caretaker," Remington confirmed.

"The dog's owner left him a half a million dollars," Laura recalled. "And Mrs. Dawes worked for Hero's late benefactor until his death last year. What did she get in Mr. -" she consulted the notes that Mildred had painstakingly made. "Grayson's will?"

"A job for the remainder of Hero's life," Remington confirmed.

"And after that?"

"Whatever money was left, is to go to her."

"So, if Hero were never to be found- or die as a result of the kidnapping, Mrs. Dawes would be a very wealthy woman, right?"

"I think so, yes. Laura, you can't think that the woman had anything to do with Hero's kidnapping. She was positively distraught when she came in here, according to Mildred. Used an entire box of tissues," he said, holding the still empty box up for Laura's inspection. "If she were involved, why would she bother coming to us?"

"To avert suspicion, of course," Laura insisted. "There were no suspicious sounds that night. None of the other servants in the house heard anything out of the ordinary. So the kidnapper had to be someone Hero knew and trusted. The person he spent most of his time with was Mrs. Dawes."

Remington went to the door and called Mildred. "Could you come in here for a moment, please?" he asked, then went back to stand near Laura.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Miss Holt seems to think that Mrs. Dawes might have had something to do with Hero's disappearance. Did it seem to you that she might be- with-holding some pertinent information?"

Mildred was already shaking her head in a negative response. "Oh, Miss Holt, if you could have seen that poor woman. I thought she was never going to quit crying. She LOVES that animal like it were her own child."

"Are you aware that if something happens to Hero, Mrs. Dawes inherits her late employer's estate?"

"Sure. But that doesn't mean that she-"

"Excuse me-? Is anyone here?" a woman's voice called out from beyond the door.

"That's her," Mildred told them in a quick whisper before going to greet the client. "Mrs. Dawes. You're early."

"I know. But I'm just SO worried about my poor Hero. To think of him being mistreated- or maybe even-" there was a soft sob, and the sound of Mildred tearing open a fresh box of tissues, "thank you, Miss Krebs. You're so understanding. Is Mr. Steele in yet?"

"Right this way, Miss Dawes. He and Miss Holt are very interested in your case," Mildred told the woman as they entered the corner office.

Remington came forward to take the red-eyed woman's hand. "Ah, Mrs. Dawes. I'm sorry to hear about your misfortune. And let me assure you that the Remington Steele Agency will do it all it possibly can to insure the safe and speedy return of your dog."

"He's more than a dog, Mr. Steele. He's Hero. He's - he's-" She lifted a tissue to her face again.

"There, there, Mrs. Dawes," Remington said in a soothing voice, placing an arm around her shaking shoulders and leading her toward the chair. He grabbed the box of tissues from Mildred and placed them in the woman's lap as she sat down. "There you go. Just take your time."

***

"I STILL say she's in on it," Laura insisted once Mrs. Dawes had left the office leaning heavily on Mildred's arm.

"Laura, the woman is absolutely shattered by all of this."

"So, she's a very good actress. Who wouldn't be if there was a half a million at stake?"

"Shall we go and interview the other servants, then?" Remington suggested. "Perhaps they will be able to shed further light on what happened last night."

"By all means, Mr. Steele," Laura decided. "Let's go."

***

Mildred opened the door to let Daniel into her cottage. "Am I early?" he asked, and she realized that she was staring at him.

"No. Come in." She stepped back and closed the door. "Why don't you wait in there while I make some coffee?" she suggested. "I won't be a minute."

"Whatever we're having certainly smell delicious," Daniel told her. "You're certain there's nothing I can do to help? I'm not exactly a stranger around a kitchen, you know," Daniel called after her intending to follow her to the kitchen, as the doorbell rang. He called out, "I'll get that," and opened the door. "May I help you?" He asked the four women who stood there, all wearing matching shirts, and carrying vinyl bags.

"Uh- is Millie here?" one of them asked in a voice that sounded like sandpaper, while the others gaped.

Mildred came back around the corner and saw the women. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "I told you that-"

"We just wanted to make sure that you hadn't changed your mind, that's all," Hazel explained.

"Well, I haven't. I told you that I was having someone over for dinner tonight."

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends, Mildred?" Daniel asked.

"This is Rose, Hazel, and Ester," Mildred said. "Better known as the Dragon Ladies."

"Three fifths of the Dragon Ladies," Hazel corrected.

Daniel smiled and bowed ever so slightly. "Daniel Chalmers, ladies. It's a pleasure."

"Same here," Hazel said, sighing.

"Well, if you're sure you can't go, Millie, we'll be on our way," Ester said.

"QUITE sure," Mildred confirmed. "I'll call you on Sunday to see how things went." She had to force herself not to close the door before they left the step. She wasn't quick enough to miss Ester's quick "thumbs up", however. Once the door was closed, Mildred met Daniel's amused smile and found herself smiling in return. "They came to check you out."

"So, do you think I passed inspection, then?" he asked, following her toward the kitchen.

"Probably," Mildred said, checking something on the stove, glancing at Daniel occasionally. "You should have seen them when they met Kevin Masters."

"Ah, now I'm being compared to Le Renard, hmm?"

"Not at all. Well, maybe a little," she admitted.

"I'm not worried at all. I KNEW Kevin, remember? Stole more than one or two lovely ladies away from him over the years."

"I bet you did," Mildred said.

Daniel saw the look she gave him and grabbed her arm as she passed the table en route to get the coffee. "Mildred, what's wrong?"

"Wrong?"

"You're jumpy. As if there's something you want to talk about but are afraid to bring up."

Mildred looked at him for a long moment, then sighed and pulled away. "I'll be right back."

Daniel watched her out of the kitchen door, and then waited for her to return. She was carrying a folder, and hesitated before placing it on the table before him. "I started to show this to Mr. Steele today- but I decided you deserved a chance to explain first."

"Explain?" Daniel asked, eyeing the yellow folder warily.

"Is the Earl of Claridge really your cousin?"

To Be Continued . . .

---

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Original content ©2001 by Nancy Eddy