The police had taken custody of Philip Rochet and security had cleared the guests from the gallery. Mildred was still at Daniel's side, talking softly to him. "He's here, Daniel," she said, her eyes full of tears.

Daniel's eyes were closed, his breathing ragged and labored. Remington took Mildred's place at his side, and took the older man's hand in a comforting grip. "Hang on, Daniel. Help's on the way." He looked up. "Tell those ambulance attendants to get in here," he said to one of the security guards who hovered nearby. The guard stepped away from them.

"Harry," Daniel managed to say, opening his eyes. He grimaced with pain. "Have to . . . tell you . . ."

"Conserve your strength, mate," Remington said. "We can talk later."

"May not be . . . time . . . later," Daniel insisted. His skin had a deathly pallor that frightened Remington more than anything he'd ever known.

"In here, gentlemen," Remington heard Gerald Davis saying. "He's right over there-"

"Need . . . to tell you . . . about . . . family . . ."

"It can wait, Daniel," Remington insisted as Mildred made room for the paramedics.

"Does he have a history of heart problems?" the uniformed man asked.

"Yes," Remington told them.

"Oxygen," the paramedic told his partner, but Daniel pushed the man's hand away when he attempted to place the mask over his face.

"Harry . . . didn't want you . . . to . . . find out this . . . way," Daniel said, struggling for every breath. "Always . . . afraid to . . . tell . . . you. Lost you . . . once. Couldn't risk . . ."

"Lost me?" Remington asked, frowning.

"Looked for you . . . for . . . my son."

It took every ounce of strength that Remington possessed not to pull his hand away from Daniel's weak grip at those words. He couldn't be saying - "Daniel-"

"I am . . . your . . . father," Daniel told him, his voice so weak that Remington had to strain to hear the words. Daniel groaned as the pain overcame his determination to continue and his eyes closed again.

The paramedics encountered no resistance this time as they completed their work. "Is he under a doctor's care?"

When Remington didn't respond, Laura, her arm around a worried Mildred, answered. "Yes. Dr. Nathan Becker at UCLA Medical Center."

The paramedic picked up his radio and called in. "Contact Dr. Nathan Becker, - tell him we're bringing in one of his patients. A Mr.-" he looked up at Laura.

"Daniel Chalmers."

"Daniel Chalmers." His partner moved around to where Remington was still kneeling, still holding Daniel's hand.

"Excuse me, sir. We have to put him on the gurney and get him to the ambulance." Remington released Daniel's hand and rose slowly to his feet, feeling Laura's intense gaze on him. But he couldn't look at her. Too many things were whirling about in his head. He needed to think . . .

"Is he going to be all right?" Mildred asked, her voice ragged.

"I don't know, ma'am," the paramedic responded as they lifted Daniel onto the gurney and extended the legs. His partner began calling in vital signs to the control center. "Would you like to ride in the ambulance with him, sir?" he asked Remington, who was now standing beside Laura.

"Uh, no," Remington answered, ignoring Laura's soft gasp of surprise. "I have- things to take care of here. I'll be along- once that's done."

"Mr. Steele," Mildred began, but Remington put an arm around her as the paramedics began to push the gurney from the room.

"There, there, Mildred. Why don't you and Laura follow in the limo?"

"I think you should come too," Laura told him, but Remington pulled her close with his other arm as he slowly led them toward the still open front door.

"I need you to look after Mildred, Laura," he insisted. "I won't be long."

Laura handed him the Cross as they reached the limo, where Fred was already holding the door open. The ambulance pulled away, siren screaming. "Here," she said, watching as Mildred got into the car. She stopped before Remington could hand her in as well, looking up at him. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine, Laura," he assured her with what he hoped was a wry grin. "After all, it's not every day a man finds his father, eh?"

"You promise that you'll come to the hospital?"

He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I promise. Just as soon as I've cleared everything up. Now go on."

Laura stood on tip toe and gave him a quick kiss, then got into the car with Mildred. Remington waited until Fred was behind the wheel, then tapped the roof of the limo twice. "Off you go." He watched the limo until it turned the corner onto the street.

"Is Mr. Chalmers going to recover, Mr. Steele?" Gerald Davis asked.

"I don't know," Remington answered, still looking at the lamp-lit street beyond the drive.

"I wasn't aware that he was ill. I mean, he never gave any sign of it."

"Daniel's not one for broadcasting such personal information," Remington told the man. "He thought it was under control. Evidently the stress of foiling the attempted theft of this - " he held up the Cross, "- was too much for him."

Davis took the goldern relic eagerly, sighing in relief. "Thank goodness he did stop those men. If they had succeeded-"

"You can thank Daniel for that. If he hadn't seen something out of the ordinary with those two, they would have gotten away with it- and possibly killed someone in their escape."

"I'm very grateful, Mr. Steele. And I fully intend to thank Mr. Chalmers as soon as I can."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate it. Would you mind calling a cab for me, Mr. Davis?"

"A cab? But- the police need to talk to you- about the attempted robbery-"

"Tell them that I'll talk to them later. They'll know where to find me. I'll wait at the end of the drive for that cab." He started walking away from the house, not bothering to glance back and see if Davis had returned to the house to make the call If Davis didn't call, then he'd do it himself. There was a payphone down the block that he could use.

Five minutes later, a cab pulled up to the curb. "Did you call for a cab, pal?" the driver asked.

***

Laura paced the small waiting area for what felt like the hundredth time as Mildred sat in one of the chairs, slowly shredding a handkerchief. Neither of them had spoken during the ride to the hospital, each consumed in their own thoughts and fears. "What's taking them so long, Miss Holt?" she asked.

"I don't know, Mildred. At least Dr. Becker is with him now."

"I wish Mr. Steele was here."

"He will be, Mildred," Laura said, going to sit beside the distraught woman. "You knew, didn't you?"

"That Daniel is Mr. Steele's father?" Mildred asked. "Yes. He only told me about it last night. He told me this evening that you knew."

"I guessed- after he told me a little story about some nameless young woman who died in childbirth while the man she loved was in prison."

"I should have told Mr. Steele. But I thought- I thought Daniel should be the one to do it. I gave him a week, told him that if he hadn't come clean by then, I'd do it for him."

"He was going to tell Remington everything tomorrow," Laura reminded her, taking the older woman's hand.

"Miss Holt?"

Laura looked up to see Nathan Becker standing in the doorway. Her eyes searched his face, looking for some sign. "Dr. Becker. How is he?"

He came into the room and pulled a chair close to Laura and Mildred. "He's resting comfortably at the moment. His heart stopped," he confided. "But we put him on a machine- I've started the drug therapy. At this point, he doesn't have much to lose if it doesn't work."

"Can we see him?"

Becker smiled at the question. "You must be Mildred. Daniel's told me a little about you. How much you've come to mean to him. You know, it's strange. I've only known the man a few days, and yet I feel as though we've known each other for years."

"He has that effect on people," Laura told him. "You didn't answer the question. Can we see Daniel?"

"He's in the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit," Becker informed them. "Visitors are usually restricted to family-" he looked around the room. "Where is Mr. Steele?"

"We were- working on a case when Daniel-" Laura began. Becker nodded in understanding. "Remington sent Mildred and I on ahead while he cleared things up. He said he'd be here as soon as he could."

Mildred's eyes were on the man sitting before her. "Daniel told me that you know that Mr. Steele is his son."

"Yes. I - guessed. Has Daniel told him yet?"

Laura and Mildred exchanged a worried look. "Daniel tried to tell him before they took him away in the ambulance-"

"Mr. Steele didn't take the news well, then?"

"He seemed to be in shock," Laura told him. "Between Daniel becoming ill and finding out that Daniel was his father-"

Becker took a deep breath. "I really wish that Mr. Steele was here- but in his absence, I'll clear it so that the two of you can stand in his stead."

Mildred's grip on Laura's hand tightened. "Does that mean we can see him?"

"One at a time," Becker informed them. "And only for ten minutes each. Keep his spirits up, the last thing we need now is for him to give up. Half of this battle is going to be won by Daniel's will to live."

***

He looked so small, Laura thought as she stood beside the bed in the C. I. C. U. Small- and old. Strange. She'd never really thought of Daniel Chalmers as being old. Reaching out, she touched his white hair- it hadn't been this white when they'd first met.

Smiling, Laura recalled that meeting in Remington's apartment. "Hello, Daniel," she said, not surprised when he didn't open his eyes. Dr. Becker had warned her and Mildred that they'd given him something for the pain. But he'd told them both to talk to him, that he'd be able to hear on some level, hopefully. She took his hand in hers, careful not to disturb the tubing that seemed to surround him. "You know, I was thinking about our first meeting. Mother and I came over to bring Remington some chicken soup, thinking he was sick, and there you were, lurking behind the refrigerator, as Mother put it." She smiled momentarily at the memory. "If I'd known - I should have, I suppose. You tried to tell me the truth the next time we met, didn't you? When we danced that waltz? You said that 'Harry' was the son you'd never had. But he was your son. I guess I was just too close to see it. You have to get better, Daniel. He needs you. Needs you to be there for him as much as he needs me." Her grip on his hand tightened as she struggled to control the tears that were threatening to escape. "We BOTH need you, Daniel. I lost my father- I don't want to lose you, too."

***

"He looks so small, so lost, Miss Holt," Mildred said to Laura as the woman returned from her visit with Daniel. "I wish the Boss were here."

"I know, Mildred." Laura put a comforting arm around Mildred as they sat there on the fabric covered sofa. "I'm going to get some coffee. Want some?"

"Sure."

Laura glanced at her wristwatch, frowning. It had been almost three hours. What could be taking Remington so long, she wondered. Surely there hadn't been that much to clear up at Gerald Davis' house after the attempted robbery.

Going to a payphone, she dialed Davis' number and asked the person that answered for Mr. Steele.

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Steele isn't here."

In the background, Laura heard Gerald Davis' harried sounding voice. "Who is it, Jeffries?"

"Someone asking for Mr. Steele, sir," the butler responded.

"Go to bed, Jeffries," Davis said, and Laura heard a rustle as the telephone was handed between the men. "Hello? This is Gerald Davis."

"Mr. Davis, it's Laura Holt. I'm trying to locate Mr. Steele."

"Oh. Well, he left."

"Left? When?"

"Right after you and Miss Krebs. I assumed he was going to follow you to the hospital. How is Mr. Chalmers?"

"Resting comfortably," Laura told their ex-client. "Did he speak to the police about the robbery attempt?"

"No. He said that they knew where they could find him and asked me to call a cab for him. He seemed a bit- distracted, Miss Holt. Or- disturbed, yes, that's the word."

"He and Mr. Chalmers have known each other for a long time," Laura explained. "They're very close."

"I understand. I'm most grateful to Mr. Chalmers for what he did. If he hadn't acted so quickly-"

"Yes. I'll relay the message," Laura said, wanting to get off of the telephone so that she could make another call. "Good bye, Mr. Davis."

She put another dime into the machine and dialed the number for home. The machine picked up on the sixth ring. "I can't come to the telephone at the moment. Please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you."

"Remington, it's Laura. Are you there? . . . If you're there, please pick up the phone . . . We're at the Medical Center. Daniel's in Intensive Care, but he needs to see you . . . Remington?" Laura sighed, half in frustration, half in anger at his disappearing act. "If you get this before I talk to you, call me at least, okay? Let me know that YOU'RE okay." She paused, waiting, unwilling to give up. "I love you."

She hung up the phone and continued on to get the coffee. It was going to be a long night . . .

***

Remington sat on the ledge at the Griffith Park Observatory, watching the lights twinkle below him. The guards had been surprised when they had first seen him up here- but after they recognized him, they had ignored his presence, much as Laura had told him that they did with her. He wasn't even certain why he'd come up here. Maybe he was looking for the sense of peace that this place had given Laura for so many years.

It wasn't working. His inner turmoil was evident in his clenched fists. He wanted to lash out, to yell, to-. "To turn my back on him the way he turned his back on me all those years ago." But had Daniel really turned his back? Daniel had been there for him,- late, yes, but he'd been there. "Why didn't you tell me, Daniel?" Remington said softly, his voice barely carrying in the still night air. "Why?"

He needed some answers. Ideally, Daniel was the one that could give those answers. Right now, however, Remington wasn't sure that he could face Daniel without losing his temper. Even if Daniel were in any shape to answer them at the moment. There were other resources, however, that he could call on.

The dawn of a new day began to break over the distant horizon. With a sigh, Remington rose from the ledge and retraced his steps, waving at the guard who was making his final rounds of the night. At the street, he flagged down a cab and gave him an address. It was time to get some answers.

***

Laura stood at the window, watching the sun rise over the city. Mildred had slipped into a restless sleep on the sofa some hours ago. They had each gone in to see Daniel two more times, but there had been little change. A noise in the doorway made her turn around, hoping that it was Remington at last. But that hope faded as soon as she saw Dr. Becker. "How is he?" she asked in a quiet voice, not wanting to disturb Mildred.

"A little better," he said, sounding cautious. "The therapy seems to be having some beneficial effect, but it's still too early to celebrate. Still no Mr. Steele?" he asked, sounding concerned.

Shaking her head, Laura answered. "No. I've called everywhere he might be. There's no sign of him."

Becker looked concerned. "Oh dear."

"I thought you said Daniel was better?"

"He is. He's awake. And he's asking to see his son."

To Be Continued . . .

---

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Original content ©2001 by Nancy Eddy