Both men were now wearing tuxedos, and Daniel couldn't help but notice that Davis' was a bit ill-fitting. The man could use the services of a decent tailor, he thought. Something that HE still hadn't seen to, he reminded himself. "Everything's quiet, as you can see," Daniel assured him.

"When is Mr. Steele expected to return?" Davis asked.

"He and Miss Holt will be arriving momentarily. They had a brief stop to make- picking up another operative- I believe you remember Miss Krebs?"

"The receptionist?" Davis questioned, his eyes filled with surprise.

"She's not merely a receptionist, I can assure you," Daniel told the distasteful little man. "She's an integral part of the Agency. As is Miss Holt."

Davis looked doubtful. "I'll take your word for it, Mr. Chalmers. But I'm not ashamed to tell you that if it weren't your and Mr. Steele's being here, there is no way I could go through with this." Glancing toward the entry hall, he called, "No, no. These people simply can't take instruction at all," he muttered. "Excuse me." He hurried off to supervise the placing of a reception table.

Daniel returned to his watch, keeping within easy view of the display case that held the Cross of the Chalice. A mild pain in his chest got his attention, and he glanced at his wristwatch with a grimace. In all of the morning's excitement, he'd forgotten to take his medication. A young woman wearing a security uniform stood nearby. "I'll be right back. Keep a sharp watch."

"I will, sir," she promised eagerly.

Daniel started toward the kitchen, using a dark, narrow back service corridor for access instead of the main entrance. Halfway there, he found himself confronted by a thin young man wearing a catering uniform. "Well, well. Look who we have here. I thought I recognized you, Chalmers."

Daniel squinted in the dim lighting. It took him a moment to place the boyish features. Henry Rochet. He and his brother were very good second story men- a bit uncouth, perhaps, but experts at what they did. "Henry. I thought you were in prison. Some god forsaken little place in South America-"

"Yeah, well, they let us out for good behaviour," Henry said with a dangerous grin that showed uneven white teeth.

"Well, it was nice seeing you, but I really must be-" Daniel began, intending to go back down the corridor. But he found his way blocked by Philip, Henry's younger, and more volatile, brother. Where Henry was thin and had the face of an angel, Philip was big, bulky, and looked like a wrestler. "Philip. I should have known." He was wearing a security uniform, and his hand rested on the grip of his gun.

"Chalmers. We heard you were here, working for that detective. Or is that just a front?" Philip asked, backing Daniel down the corridor toward Henry.

The pain in Daniel's chest was worse now, but he hid it behind a bland smile. Wouldn't do for either of these men to know his weakness. "A front?" he questioned.

"Philip and I are going to steal that Cross, Chalmers. Don't get in our way- we'll be keeping an eye on you. You make any attempt to warn Steele or anyone else- and it'll be the last thing you ever do."

"And if I keep quiet?" Daniel asked. "What - as they say- is in it for me?"

A deadly looking knife appeared in Henry's hand as he grinned. "You'll be very well paid, old man. You'll get to keep your life."

Henry stepped out of the way and allowed Daniel to continue to the kitchen. He entered it, and was grateful for the controlled pandemonium around him as he hunted down a glass and some Perrier. His hands shook slightly, and for a moment, he feared he would drop the medicine as he removed one from the small bottle. He'd barely swallowed the small tablet when he heard Davis' voice. "Are you all right, Mr. Chalmers? You look a bit- pale."

"Just- a- slight headache," Daniel assured the man with a smile, breathing easier as the pain eased. "Nothing to worry about."

Mr. Davis nodded. "Mr. Steele and the others just arrived. They're in the gallery, waiting for you."

"Thank you." As he left the kitchen, Henry entered, a smirk on his handsome face.

***

Daniel entered the gallery, the first person he saw was Mildred. "Hello, my dear," he said quietly, as Laura and Remington consulted with the security people one last time. "You look- absolutely wonderful," he told her, stepping back after kissing her hands to inspect her appearance. "You'll put every other woman in the room to shame tonight." Behind Mildred, Philip Rochet entered the room, moving to take up a position near the Cross. His hand was invariably on his gun, at the ready, Daniel noticed.

Mildred's cheeks reddened slightly. "You don't look so bad yourself," she told him, unnecessarily straightening his bow tie. "Why is it that men always look so good in a tux?" she wondered aloud.

"Just lucky, I suppose," Daniel replied, his attention turning to the couple who were approaching them.

"Did Mildred tell you that she thinks she's found out who might be planning to steal the Cross, Daniel?" Remington asked..

"I'm afraid I haven't given her a chance," Daniel admitted. "I was too busy admiring her appearance." He smiled at Mildred again. "Did you?"

"The Rochet Brothers," Mildred told him. "Henry and Philip. Born in New York."

"I thought they were in prison?" Daniel asked, frowning. "In- South America, I believe."

"They escaped two months ago," Mildred told him.

Laura looked at Daniel. "Remington says that he's never met or worked with them-"

"No one WORKS with the Rochet Brothers, Laura," Daniel informed her. "They're wholly dependent on each other. I've never heard of their working with anyone else."

"Have you ever met them?" Laura asked, her tone more pointed now.

"Once- we were after the same Renoir in Quebec. I- beat them to it," he confided.

"Then, you'd recognize them if you saw them?" Laura pressed.

"It's been a few years, Laura," Daniel hedged. "My memory isn't what it used to be." Remington frowned at his claim. "But I'll be on the lookout," he assured them before taking Mildred's arm and drawing her toward the collection. "Why don't I show you around before everyone else arrives?" he suggested, putting some distance between himself, Laura and Remington.

"I'm going to make another swing around the perimeter," Laura told Remington, then followed his blue gaze to where Mildred was admiring a Monet. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure. You know how the hairs on your neck stand up when your instincts are working?"

"Yes?"

"I think I know what you're talking about now."

"Daniel gave me his word," Laura told him.

"I know. He gave me the same assurance. But something's- " Remington clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Must be this case getting to me. Let's go check the perimeter, shall we, Miss Holt?" he asked, extending his arm for her to take.

Daniel watched as Remington and Laura left the room, then glanced around, taking in Philip standing not far away. "It's lovely, Daniel," Mildred was saying. "Mr. Steele told me that we're all having lunch tomorrow-"

"You didn't mention anything to him about-?"

"I promised, Daniel," Mildred said, patting his arm.

"I know," he replied, covering her hand with his. "I'm just a bit jumpy, I suppose. Laura knows- at least part of it."

"How'd she find out?"

Daniel steered her across the room, away from any chance of Philip's overhearing their conversation.

***

Laura stood beside Mildred as a waiter passed. She grabbed a glass of mineral water. "Looks like the cream of society's here, doesn't it?" she noted.

"I can't believe the Mayor and his wife are really here. And did you see-" she pointed excitedly at a well known movie star and his wife. "His eyes are almost as blue as the Boss'," she declared with a deep sigh.

"Speaking of the 'Boss'," Laura said, smiling at Mildred's dreamy observation, "where has he gotten off to?"

"He's over there," Mildred said, pointing in the other direction. "Talking to Mr. Harridge." Niles Harridge was the curator for the Los Angeles Art Museum, and had a huge stake in this charity event.

When Laura approached the two men, he was telling Remington about an art showing that was set to open soon. "I'm sure that we'll be calling you, Mr. Steele, to set up security. You say that you've actually seen the Triptych?"

Laura slipped her arm through Remington's with a smile, getting Remington's attention as he began to answer. "Yes. We rescued the painting- along with a few others- a couple of years ago."

"Of course. I recall the incident now. That perfectly awful Conant matter. The man was a Philistine," Harridge declared, shuddering slightly. "Excuse me. I see someone else that I MUST speak to."

Remington took a sip from his glass, and smiled down at Laura. "Enjoying yourself?" he asked.

"Bored to tears, actually. Mildred's the one who's a little star struck, I'm afraid. What was that about the Triptych?" she asked.

"Harridge has arranged for it to be shown at the Museum in a few weeks. Thought I might be interested in arranging security for the exhibit."

"Mr. Steele-"

He leaned close to her. "Don't worry, love. There's only one woman I want in my arms now. The Bordeaux Triptych is simply another painting. Have you seen Daniel lately?"

"He's still over there watching the Cross," she informed him. "He hasn't moved more than a few feet from that display all evening."

"I think he feels guilty for not telling us about the rumors he was hearing earlier."

"I can understand why he didn't, I suppose. If they'd been wrong-"

"They still might be. Daniel hasn't indicated that he recognizes anyone here-"

"Remy, darling!" a feminine voice called out as a woman practically shoved herself between Laura and Remington to take his arm. "You've been a very naughty boy. You were supposed to call me. You never did," the tall blonde pouted. She was wearing a designer gown that set off her hourglass figure to perfection, and a strand of glittering diamonds circled her neck.

Remington stared at the woman for a long moment, trying to put a name to that porcelain doll face. "Elaine. It's been- a while. A year?" he suggested.

"Closer to two," she told him, running a long fingernail up his lapel. "I wasn't going to come tonight- these things are always such a bore, don't you agree? But when Daddy told me that YOU were going to be here, well, wild horses couldn't have kept me away."

Remington glanced at Laura, saw the curiosity - and jealousy on her face. He quickly extracted himself from Elaine's grasp and stepped closer to Laura. "Elaine, this is Laura Holt- my partner." He noted Laura's surprise at his choice of words and smiled. "Laura, Elaine Delamore."

"Thomas Delamore's daughter," Laura identified. Delamore was one of Los Angeles' wealthier self made men. Where had Remington met the man's daughter? She wondered. "How do you do, Miss Delamore?"

Elaine's hand barely touched Laura's before she turned her big hazel eyes back in Remington's direction. "Why don't we have dinner tomorrow evening?" she suggested. "We can- catch up on things."

"Sorry. I have- other plans."

"Next week, then? Daddy's got a lovely place at Tahoe-"

"I'm- tied up for the- uh, foreseeable future, Elaine," Remington apologized. "It was nice seeing you again, however. I believe someone is trying to get our attention, Miss Holt," he said, taking Laura's arm and steering her toward the other side of the room.

Once there, Laura shook off his hold. "And just WHEN did you meet Elaine Delamore and her father?" she asked him.

"Not long after I arrived in Los Angeles and became Remington Steele," he explained. "Mr. Delamore and his daughter were both in attendance at an award ceremony-"

"And where was I?" Laura asked.

"Working on a case with Murphy, if I recall correctly. It was during the days when you insisted on keeping me in that box with "figurehead" written on it."

"She said she'd seen you two year ago," Laura pointed out.

"During the time that we weren't mixing business with pleasure, remember? I took her out once or twice- for dinner. Nothing else. And I hardly think this is the place for us to be discussing your jealousy, don't you agree?" he asked.

Laura retreated from the argument and turned her attention back to the party. "You're right. We have a job to do. We can discuss your old girl friends later."

***

"Enjoying yourself?" Daniel asked as Mildred moved to his side.

"I had no idea that all of those people on that guest list would show up," she told him. "I had to stop myself from asking for autographs-"

Daniel smiled indulgently. "We'll see what we can do about that later," he told her. "I'm sorry that I haven't been more attentive, but-"

"I understand."

Daniel's gaze swept the room yet again. Philip was still stationed behind the Cross, his hand still on his gun. He saw Henry enter the room for the first time all evening, pushing a small cart before him with a silver-domed dish in the center. He was followed by a line of other waiters with similar carts. "Mildred, would you go over and get me a glass of Perrier, please?" Daniel asked. "My throat's a bit- dry. I'd go, but I hesitate to leave my post."

Mildred smiled. "Such dedication, Daniel. I'm sure Mr. Steele wouldn't mind if you-"

"I'll stay here, Mildred," he said, lifting her hand to his lips for a brief salute. "Please?"

Mildred shook her head and turned toward the bar that had been set up. Laura and Remington were there as well. For a moment, Daniel considered signaling them, but a quick glance at Philip revealed that the big man's eyes were watching his every movement. Smiling, Daniel resumed his relaxed air, waiting for the Brothers to make their move.

Henry stopped his cart in the center of the room, just before the case which contained the Cross of the Chalice, and the rest of the carts remained lined up behind his. Daniel knew that the carts were supposed to contain various gourmet dishes for the guests' consumption, but something about the cart that Henry was standing beside seemed different.

Henry lifted the lid domed lid, and a thick cloud of smoke filled the room, spreading out rapidly. Daniel leapt toward the case, seeing Philip finally pull his gun from its holster as he moved, determined to stop these two at any cost.

Remington and Laura coughed as the smoke filled the room, and then saw Daniel leap toward the case that contained the Cross. "Daniel!" The guard behind the case had drawn his gun, and brought the butt down on the case, setting off the alarm. When they heard the gunshot, Remington yelled "Get down everyone!" and took off to join Daniel, knowing that Laura was right behind him.

The heavyset guard grabbed the Cross, and was immediately knocked from his feet by Daniel plowing into him. The gun went off. Before anyone could stop him, the fake guard tossed his treasure to one of the waiters. That man took off with it, running from the room, stabbing a guard to attempted to stop him. The first man was surrounded by guards, all with guns drawn.

"Get him, Harry," Daniel said, wheezing slightly. "Henry -Rochet."

Remington turned his steps to follow Rochet as Laura and Mildred bent over Daniel, who collapsed onto the floor, coughing. "Daniel?" Laura asked, concerned. He didn't look at all well, and she saw him wince in pain. "Someone call an ambulance!" she yelled.

"Laura . . . have to . . . talk . . . to . . . Harry. Must . . . tell him . . . before . . . too . . . late . . . "

Laura looked up at Mildred. "Stay with him, Mildred. I'll go get Remington."

"Be careful, hon," Mildred worried, slipping into Laura's spot at Daniel's side.

***

Henry had easily eluded the security people, having stripped his catering uniform to the security one beneath it, but Remington caught up with him at the service entrance. Henry lashed out with the knife. "Get back. It's not worth your life, Steele!"

"You can't get out of here, Rochet," Remington told him. "Now drop the knife and give me the Cross."

"This thing is worth two million to me, Steele. I'm not giving it up."

"I don't think you're gonna have a choice, mate," Remington told him.

"Who's gonna stop me?" Henry asked with a gloating smirk. "Not you. You don't want to get that nice tux all messed up."

"Then try me," Laura said, opening the door behind him and sending him stumbling into Remington's arms, the knife and Cross flying out of his hands. Remington sent Henry to the floor with a right cross, wincing at the resulting pain in his hand.

"One of these days, I'll learn not to do that," he muttered. "Nice to see you, Miss Holt," he commented dryly.

"I came around the back of the house," she explained as she retrieved the Cross and kicked the knife out of reach, while Remington stood over the unconscious thief. "Thought you might need some help."

"Thank you." The sound of sirens filled the air- and Remington looked at her as he recognized the sound of an ambulance along with police.

Laura met that concerned blue gaze with one of her own. "Daniel needs you."

The pain in his hand forgotten, Remington hauled the still groggy Henry to his feet and shoved him into the waiting arms of the security guards who were in the hallway before running toward the gallery . . .

To Be Continued . . .

---

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Original content ©2001 by Nancy Eddy