"What about the drug therapy you started?" Mildred asked, causing both of them to turn and look at her. She was now sitting up on the couch. "I was just dozing," she explained.

"It's too early to tell if the treatment is working. He seems in less pain, though, so we were able to lower the dosage on his pain medication."

"That's good, right?" Laura asked.

"Yes. But now the hard part begins. Daniel needs to be kept more or less quiet, cushioned from any stress. I don't know what I'm going to tell him about why Mr. Steele- or, 'Harry' as he calls him-" he paused, looking at Laura questioningly.

"It's a- nickname," she explained.

Becker nodded once. "I don't know what I'm going to tell Daniel about why he's not here."

"Where could he be, Miss Holt?" Mildred asked.

"I wish I knew, Mildred. But right now, it's up to us to keep Daniel calm for his own good."

"How are we going to do that?" Mildred wanted to know.

"We'll tell him that he's trying to finish things up on the Davis case," Laura suggested.

"He won't believe it," Mildred insisted.

"He'll believe it. Especially if you back me up, Mildred," Laura said.

***

Daniel did look better, Laura decided. His eyes were closed, but his color was much better this morning. For a moment, Laura thought he might have gone to sleep and that she wouldn't have to try and lie to him about why Remington wasn't here.

"Daniel?" she said in a quiet voice, not wanting to disturb him- for his sake as much as her own.

His eyes opened, and scanned behind Laura's. "Where is Harry?"

She reached out and took his hand. "Hi there. You're looking a lot better this morning. I don't have to tell you that you had us pretty worried last night. Whatever possessed you to try and play the hero?" she asked.

"I didn't have any choice, Laura. If I had tried to warn anyone about those two, they were likely to have gone on a rampage. I've seen the results of their tempers. It's not very pretty. Now. Where is Harry?"

"There were some things that he had to take care of."

"He's not here, is he? I shouldn't have told him."

"No. NO, Daniel, you did the right thing. Remington was just- taken by surprise, that's all. He- needed some time-"

Daniel's fingers gripped hers with more strength than she expected. "You have to find him, Laura." He closed his eyes for a moment, obviously in pain.

"Daniel, Dr. Becker said that you weren't to be upset-"

"Don't worry about me. Right now, Harry's the one that needs worrying about. Find him." The monitor near the bed was growing more and more irregular with each moment, and Laura pressed the button to summon the nurse.

"Yes?"

"Get Dr. Becker in here," Laura ordered. "Now." She looked at Daniel. "Daniel?"

"Harry. Find . . . Harry," he muttered.

The door flew open to admit Dr. Becker and a group of people. "What happened?" Becker asked as he examined Daniel, keeping one eye on the monitor.

"We were talking, and he-"

"Go back out to the waiting room, Miss Holt," Becker said, concentrating on his patient. "I'll let you know what's going on as soon as I can."

Laura nodded, backing toward the door, her concerned gaze on the man in the bed. As she opened the door, Becker spoke again.

"And Miss Holt- find Mr. Steele. Quickly."

Mildred was in the corridor. "What happened, Miss Holt?" she asked.

"He had a setback," Laura explained. "He's worried about why Remington isn't here. Afraid that he made a mistake by telling him the truth last night."

"You couldn't lie to him either, could you?" Mildred asked, gazing tearfully through the glass window into Daniel's room, where Dr. Becker was still adjusting the I. V. drip. "He's increasing the pain medication again." She placed a hand against the glass. "What are we going to do, Miss Holt?"

"Find Remington," Laura answered. She turned to start down the hallway, only to stop upon seeing a uniformed police officer and another man wearing a suit with a badge hanging from the pocket.

"Miss Holt?" the man in the suit asked.

"Yes. I'm Laura Holt," Laura answered in a cautious tone. "Can I help you?"

"Detective Green, Miss Holt," he said, indicating his badge. "I need to ask you and Mr. Steele some questions about the attempted robbery at Gerald Davis's last evening."

"I'd be glad to answer any questions you have, Detective. But I really don't know anything. We were there to provide security for the charity showing- and got wind of a possible attempt by the Rochet Brothers. During the evening, Mr. Chalmers noticed something out of the ordinary and when Henry Rochet made his move, he tried to stop them."

Green nodded, as if that much jived with the reports he'd gotten from other sources. "How is Mr. Chalmers this morning?" he asked.

"Not very well, I'm afraid."

"I really need to talk to him," Green was saying as Dr. Becker came from Daniel's room.

"How is he, Doctor?" Mildred asked.

"Sleeping again."

"Can I go in and sit with him?" she asked. "I won't say anything. Just for minute?"

Becker hesitated, then nodded. "All right. But keep him quiet if he does wake up. " Mildred nodded and moved toward the door as Laura made introductions.

"Dr. Becker, this is Detective Green, LAPD."

"Is there any chance I'll be able to question Mr. Chalmers, Doctor?"

"I'm afraid not. He's too ill-."

Green frowned. "I need some answers, I'm afraid," he said.

"What kind of answers?" Laura asked.

"The Rochet Brothers are claiming that Mr. Chalmers was intending to steal the - uh," he glanced at the notepad in his hand. "The Cross of the Chalice himself last night. And not only that, but that they met him several years ago in Canada during another robbery."

"I can assure you, Detective," Laura said, "that Mr. Chalmers had NO intention of stealing that Cross. As for his prior meeting with the Rochets, they did meet, but I believe Mr. Chalmers was on a case. Very deep undercover."

"A case, Miss Holt?" Green questioned.

"I don't even know all of the details," Laura confided. "They're classified."

"Classified?" Green repeated, sounding a bit uncertain now.

"Very hush-hush," she nodded.

"Oh. I suppose I can- wait to talk to him," Green decided. He looked around. "Could I talk to Mr. Steele?"

"Uh, I'm afraid that Mr. Steele's not here at the moment," Laura told the detective. "I'm glad that you're here, Detective. You could be an invaluable help."

"I could? How?"

***

"How is he?" Laura asked Mildred as the other woman entered the waiting room.

"Still asleep," Mildred told her. "Oh, Miss Holt. I'm so- frightened. What if he - "

Laura gave her a comforting hug. "I know. I'm just a frightened as you are, Mildred."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. We've checked everywhere. According to the police, the Auburn AND the Rabbit are parked at the condo. Fred hasn't heard from him, they've checked the loft, too, and there's been no sign of him. No one has SEEN him since he left Mr. Davis's house last night in a taxi."

"What about the taxi company?" Mildred suggested. "Maybe we could trace him that way."

Laura gave Mildred a hug. "Why didn't *I* think of that?" she asked, rushing to the telephone. "Mr. Davis? . . . Laura Holt here . . . No, there's been no change . . . What I wanted to ask you was . . . no . . . do you remember what cab company you called last night for Mr. Steele? . . ." Laura grinned and gave Mildred a "thumb's up" sign. "Thank you . . . Yes . . . Yes, I will." She hung up and grabbed the telephone directory that was sitting on the table beside the phone. "He called the Liberty Cab Company," she told Mildred, flipping to the Yellow Pages and running her finger down the listings. "AA, Brewster . . . Masters . . .Here it is. Liberty Cab Company. 555-2367." She dialed the number, waiting impatiently for the dispatcher to answer. "Yes. This is Laura Holt of Remington Steele Investigations . . . Really? . . . Well, I need to find out about a fare that one of your cabs picked up last night at Gerald Davis' house," she gave the dispatcher the address. "Oh, around ten, I suppose . . . I'll wait." She looked up at Mildred. "She's checking the dispatch logs. I can't believe that I didn't think about doing this, - Yes? . . . Where did he drop the fare? . . . Thank you. Good-bye." She hung up, smiling

"Well?"

"The cab took him up to the Observatory," Laura told her, grabbing her purse. "Look, Mildred, I'm going out there. Stay here and keep an eye on Daniel, okay? And if Remington shows up, sit on him till I get back."

"I'm likely to do more than sit on him, Miss Holt. I'll probably give him piece of my mind. He should be here. Daniel needs him!"

"I'll find him, Mildred. At least we have a starting point now."

***

Laura entered the Observatory and went directly to the security office. Luckily, one of the regulars was on duty and smiled upon seeing her. "Miss Holt. What brings you up here this early?"

"To tell you the truth, Mitch, I'm trying to locate someone. Were you on duty last night?"

Mitch chuckled, shaking his graying head. "Been a long time since I pulled a double, Miss Holt. Leon and Harvey were here last night."

"Did they happen to mention a visitor?" Laura asked.

"You mean your boss? Yeah. Harvey said that Steele was here most of the night. Sat up on the ledge, looking over the valley, never said a word once they realized who he was."

"Did he say when Mr. Steele left, Mitch?"

Mitch scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Around dawn, I think. That's right. Harvey said that he left during the last rounds."

Laura took out her notepad. "You wouldn't happen to know how I could get in touch with Harvey, would you?"

"I can get you his number," Mitch told her, going to a file cabinet. "Why? Something wrong? Harvey and Leon both said that Mr. Steele looked pretty upset about something."

"He got some disturbing news last night," Laura confided. "Came up here to think things through- but he hasn't turned up, and- I'm hoping that Harvey might remember if Mr. Steele took a taxi when he left-"

"Now, that I can answer. Harvey told me that he flagged down old Tatum."

"Tatum?"

"Cabbie that lives not far from here. Leaves the same time every morning, passes the Observatory on his way out."

"What company does Tatum drive for?" Laura asked.

"City. Big old yellow Checker cab."

"Can I use your phone?"

"Sure," Mitch said. "I need to go take care of some things."

"Thanks," she said, smiling at him as he left the room. She grabbed the telephone book and looked up the number for City Cab. The dispatcher there knew Tatum well, and told Laura that he'd taken a fare from the Observatory to Century Plaza. Laura thanked the woman and hung up. "Of COURSE!" she declared, heading toward the door. "The one place that none of us thought to check!" Waving at Mitch, she ran out to the waiting limo. "The office, Fred," she told the chauffeur. "And let's not take our time, okay?"

***

But he wasn't at the office. He'd been there, certainly. His china cup and matching saucer were sitting on his desk. And he'd made some notes on the pad he usually kept in the drawer, which was now on top of the desk. The half-cup of tea was cold- and Remington had taken the top sheet from the pad. Laura opened a drawer and located a pencil- in the bottom drawer, of all things- and ran the lead over the impression left on the pad itself.

A list of names and phone numbers appeared. None of the names were familiar- except for Kevin Masters' name. There was a star and something written beneath it in small, hard to read print. Laura couldn't make it out.

Frustrated, she left the office, locking the door behind her and took the elevator back downstairs. The doorman, who had been gone when Laura had arrived, was now back at his post, and smiled warmly. "Good morning, Miss Holt. You and Mr. Steele sure work odd hours," he commented, opening the door for her to leave.

Laura stopped. "Coleman, did you see Mr. Steele earlier?"

"Well, yes. Not too long ago, in fact. Couldn't have been more than half an hour. Maybe less."

She wasn't that far behind him, Laura realized. "Did he take a cab?"

"Sure did. I mentioned that the limo wasn't waiting, and he said he had called a cab."

"What company, Coleman?"

Coleman looked at her as if he was beginning to wonder about her stability. "Um, Landmark, I think. Light blue. Cab number 3436."

"You remember the cab number?"

The doorman grinned. "It's my birthdate. March 4, 1936."

"Ah. Thank you, Coleman," she said, hurrying back to the limo.

"Where to now, Miss Holt?" Fred asked.

Laura picked up the mobile telephone and dialed information, asking for Landmark Cab Company. Getting the number, she hung up and dialed again. "I'm trying to find out about a fare that one of your cabs, number 3436, picked up from Century Plaza . . ."

***

Mildred was just coming out of Daniel's room when she saw him. "Mr. Steele," she said, meeting him near the waiting area. "Where have you been? We've been worried sick- and Daniel-"

"Where is Laura?"

"She went looking for you," Mildred told him. "She didn't want to leave Daniel, but he-"

"How is he?" Remington asked, sounding on the verge of exhaustion himself. He didn't look as if he'd gotten much sleep- and he hadn't shaved.

"Do you really care?" Mildred asked, standing there, hands on her hips as she looked at him.

Remington looked surprised by her attack. "Mildred-"

"You didn't bother to come down here all night- too busy licking your wounds because you found out something that upset you, I suppose."

"I called the information desk downstairs, Mildred," Remington informed her in a quiet voice. "They told me that he was resting comfortably."

"He was until a few hours ago, when he realized that you weren't here," Mildred told him. "He thinks he's lost you again, and I'm afraid that he's given up."

"Then I'll go in and see him, let him know that I'm here-" Remington began, starting down the corridor toward the windowed room that Mildred had just come out of. But he was forced to stop when Mildred blocked his path.

"I don't think so. You're still angry. And upset. Don't bother to deny it. I know you too well. And the last thing Daniel needs right now is to be upset by your anger at him. He can't handle it, Mr. Steele. I love you as if you were my own, but there's no way that I'm going to let you into that room with him until I'm sure you're not going to cause him anymore pain."

Remington stood there, looking at her as if she'd just grown two heads, then he placed an arm around the woman and pulled her into a hug. "I'm not going to do anything of the sort, Mildred. I just want to let him know that I'm here and that I'm safe. That's all. Anything else can wait until he's better." Remington's gaze found Dr. Becker as the man came toward them. "He IS going to get better, isn't he?" he asked.

"He's got a fighting chance," Becker said. "IF he'll fight. Right now, it's as if all of whatever will to fight he had has gone out of him."

"Maybe I can do something about that," Remington said. "Can I see him?"

"As much as seeing you would help him, Mr. Steele, I'm afraid I'm forced to agree with Miss Krebs. If you're going in there to confront him-"

"No. Right now, all I want to do is let him know I'm okay," Remington said again. "You can go in with me, if you'd like." He looked down at Mildred. "Would you that satisfy your concerns, Mildred?" he asked. She looked undecided. "Listen, whatever else he may've done, Daniel IS my father. And I've no desire to be responsible for his death."

"Okay," Mildred said, sniffing and giving him a hug.

Remington patted her shoulder in a comforting gesture. "Shall we, Doctor?"

Becker opened the door for him, then entered the room at his side. "I'm not sure how alert he is." He spoke in a soft voice, designed not to carry across the room. "We had to increase the pain medication earlier when he had a set back."

Remington barely heard the doctor's words. He was entirely focused on the man laying in the bed, almost hidden by the various tubes and wires surrounding him. He looked smaller than Remington remembered. Less capable.

Becker moved around the check the monitors as Remington moved to the side of the bed. "Daniel?" Becker said quietly, touching his patient's shoulder so not to surprise him. "Are you awake? There's someone here who wants to see you."

Daniel's eyes opened, and focused on Remington.

"Hello, Daniel."

To Be Continued . . .

---

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Original content ©2001 by Nancy Eddy