Steeling a Dream
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
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Steele Holting On
Steeling a Dream
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
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Steele Holting On
Chapter 17 Crisis
At three, Mildred shoved all the paperwork into file folders and told Laura to go take a nap. They had
made painstaking progress by matching up dozens of names on the disks with notations in the Filofax.
Mildred even managed to talk with a few of the people by telephone. Several declined to discuss any
contact with O’Callaghan, but three others whispered about the threats and money paid in the hopes that
the private investigator could "do something about ‘im.”
Mildred noticed Laura checking the time throughout the day. Now she was nervously fingering the
shirttail of Mr. Steele’s dress shirt. “Kiddo, go take a nap. I’ll wake you when it’s time for dinner.”
Laura didn’t want to be alone. “I’d rather watch television.”
“Sounds good to me. Let’s see what we can find.” Mildred found a silly British comedy that looked
promising. A few moments later, she was completely engrossed in the characters.
So far Laura thought she had done well keeping her fears and apprehensions at bay, but now--without
the investigative work to distract her--it was difficult not to dwell on the car bomb, the beating or the way
she and Remington had been manipulated. These last few days, both the heavy-duty painkillers and
Remington had been her cushion against all the shocks and the reality of the kidnapping and subsequent
abuse. Since this morning’s nightmares though, Laura found the horror of it all encroaching upon her like
a black cloud threatening to engulf her whole being. Against her will, her emotions spiraled downwards.
Steele waved down a taxi and glanced at his watch. “Think we have time for another stop?”
“Sure. As long as the weather holds out.” Murphy looked at the darkening sky. They ducked into the
taxi.
“Cleary’s, mate.”
During the short ride, Steele asked to see the pendant Murphy purchased for Kate. He held it to the
light, turning it this way and that. “Excellent taste, Murphy. Art Nouveau style. The unique trio of
emerald, pearl and diamond is perfect for her. She’ll like it very much.”
“I hope so. And thanks for getting me a good deal on it.”
“Helps when you have a friend in the business, eh, mate?” They both laughed.
“Hey, I didn’t see what you picked up for Laura.”
Steele grinned. “This little bauble?” He held out the bracelet.
Murphy whistled. “No wonder Malone said it was his best piece. It’s gorgeous. Laura’s going to shit a
brick when she sees that.”
Remington waggled his eyebrows. “Hopefully, she’ll find something more interesting to do than that.”
“Guess that will depend on how you give it to her.” Murphy scratched at his cheek. “Steele, I have to
ask. Why would Malone keep a piece like that in the dummy safe?”
Remington looked at his nails before answering, “Ah, that’s to keep it from looking like a dummy safe.
Most everyone 'in the business,’ as it were, knows the jeweler keeps the goods in his office. It makes
excellent business sense. But a good jeweler will have a second hidden safe where he keeps the prime
pieces. When you find that, you’ve struck the big time. A great jeweler will have a third hidden safe and
keep one excellent bauble in the dummy safe to keep you from looking for the third one.”
He smiled at the bracelet. “This is the excellent bauble: mid-1920’s, Art Deco, twenty-eight scissor-cut
deep blue sapphires, and two hundred diamonds set in platinum. Something like six carats of diamonds
and another six and a half of sapphires. Yes, I think Laura will, as you put it, shit a brick.” He slipped
the bracelet inside his jacket.
The sky darkened along with Laura’s mental state. Mildred snapped off the television. Laura didn’t
notice as she stared into the gathering storm clouds. “Hey, I need some food. You want a sandwich?”
Laura barely heard her but rose automatically and headed for the kitchen. They made dinner while
Mildred kept up a light chatter. Finally, she had enough. “Laura, you’ve got to snap out of this. Mr.
Steele will be back in just a couple of hours.” Mildred patted her on the arm.
Laura smiled absent-mindedly, if not sincerely, at her and sat to eat her sandwich and chips. She picked
at them both for a while and concentrated on keeping all the dark thoughts at bay. When the sun sank
low on the horizon and lightening flashed in the distance, Laura rose, murmuring about sleeping a bit until
Mr. Steele came home.
Mildred hoped her mood would be better when she woke.
Two men strolled into a bar, not an uncommon occurrence on a Friday after work. These two worked
their way through the happy hour crowd and ordered a couple of pints from the harried bartender. “Aye,
wot can I get ye?” The barman spoke before looking up and sucking in his breath at Steele’s icy blue
eyes.
“Two pints of Guinness, mate.” Murphy shot Steele a sour look. One pint per trip to Ireland was
enough for him.
The barman’s gaze wandered down, taking in the expensive suits, custom dress shirts and tasteful
jewelry both men wore. “Aye, be just a moment.”
He set the pints in front of them, and Steele laid a fifty-pound note on the counter. “Can you spare an
old friend some conversation?”
The bartender glanced at the rest of the customers waiting for their drinks and pocketed the money. “Be
just a minute.” He yelled for someone from the back to tend the bar and flipped up the pass-through.
He motioned the two men into a tiny snug to lend them a bit of privacy. “Mick, ye shouldn’t be here.”
“It’s too late for such things. I need to know what O’Callaghan’s up to and why he wants me for the
job.”
The other man flinched. “Word on the streets is that the rest of the Dublin Six are cutting him out. He’s
gone a bit loopy lately and they want him out. Needs a bit o’ blunt to keep up his end of the operations.
A lot of blunt, truth be told.”
“How did my name get into this?”
“Ah, mate, yer legendary. E’eryone knows yer a master. O’Callaghan, ‘e wanted th’ best. I mean, look
at ye--ye didn’t get that by working as an honest man does.”
Steele arched a brow while Murphy tried to stifle his guffaw. “Thanks, mate.” He drained his pint and
rose before tossing a hundred-pound note on the table. “Have a pint on me.”
While they waited for a cab, Murphy heard Remington swear under his breath, “Bloody, buggering
bastard.”
Murphy flagged down a yellow taxi. “Are we talking about the bartender or O’Callaghan?”
“Neither--it’s me. I’ll be damned if I set foot in this country again. I’ve got too many bloody skeletons
in the closet to bring Laura here.” He rubbed at his chin. “No matter what she does to clear my name, I
always seem to have something else around the corner.”
“Steele, it’s just as dangerous in LA.”
“Is it?”
The fury of the storm smashed across Cork and blasted toward Dublin in a roar. A massive bolt of
lightning sent Laura shrieking upright in bed. The power flickered and died, silencing the hum of the air
conditioner and plunging Laura into darkness.
The atrocities of the week swirled around in her dreams while she slept. Now, alone and in the dark, she
simply shattered. Hysterically crying, her only thought was to protect herself from her captors. She
managed to shove the huge dresser along the wall to block the door before Mildred began knocking on it
and calling her name.
“Laura, Laura, are you okay?” Mildred could hear the other woman sobbing. She tried the door, but it
wouldn’t budge.
Laura stumbled into the bathroom and slid to the floor of the closet, taking Remington’s clothes with
her. She clutched his shirts and jackets while she cried.
The flight from Dublin was delayed for nearly three hours because of the massive storm cells.
Remington called the suite, but no one answered the phone. He learned from the local news on the
television monitors scattered about the terminal that much of Cork was without power due to this same
storm.
When the men finally arrived, it took another hour for the taxi driver to navigate the darkened streets,
and it was nearly midnight when the two men entered the hotel lobby. They climbed the stairs to the
Presidential Suite to find Mildred pacing in the living room.
“It’s Laura, Boss. She’s been locked in there for hours now. She must have moved something in front
of the door because I can’t get in. I heard her crying earlier, but now I can’t hear anything at all.”
A picture of the cold, dark cell flashed in Steele’s mind. He stripped off his coat and tie and ducked onto
the wet terrace. Murphy followed and watched the nimble man climb the railing and jump from the
terrace to the small patio off the master suite. Remington made short work of the lock with the pick he
kept in his shirt cuff. When he closed the door behind him and pushed open the drapes for better light,
he could see that Laura had shoved the dresser somehow to block the doorway. He rapped twice on the
door to let Murphy and Mildred know he was inside.
He could hear her cries coming from the bathroom and his heart stumbled. Laura rarely wept. Oh,
maybe a tear or two here and there, but really letting it all out? In all their years, Remington only
remembered one time, and that was when her house had been destroyed by a bomb.
A stray bolt of lightning briefly illuminated the bath suite, and he found her sitting in the little closet,
wrapped in one of his coats and wearing his shirt. Tears streamed down her face, and her wet lashes
fanned down on her cheeks. “Rei, Rei, don’t leave me. Oh God, please don’t leave me. Remington, I
can’t do this by myself. Not now. Not after all we’ve been through. Rei, please come home.” She kept
up the running dialogue in between racking sobs.
Shocked by the desolation he saw on her face, for a moment he didn’t move. Then he knelt in front of
her, softly calling her name so as not to startle her. “Laura. Laura, I’m here.”
Her lashes fanned up. Her hands shook as she reached for him. “Don’t go. I’m sorry for what I did to
you. I know I hurt you terribly.”
He sat on the floor and pulled her into his lap. “Shh, shh, love. I’m not going anywhere.” She wrapped
her arms around his waist and placed her head against his chest. He rocked her there on the floor,
whispering soothing phrases and hugging her close. Even so, he had to lean in to hear her words.
“I see the car in flames. I remember trying to get to you and they wouldn’t let me. You were gone.
After all we’ve done, you didn’t walk away--you were killed right in front of me. It wasn’t fair. I finally
believed that you would stay forever, and you were taken away just like that.” She took a ragged breath
while Remington wiped away a tear from her cheek. “I love you, Remington. If I didn’t know how
much before, I know now. You’re my whole life. I never wanted that. I’ve always been terrified of
loving someone that much. But I do. I love you. For those three days, I thought part of me had been
ripped out. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to.”
Remington tightened his arms around her while she continued, “I sensed you. In my heart I knew you
were there, but my head said you were gone. I ... I almost convinced myself you were a ghost come
back to help me. If you hadn’t been there ... I don’t know if I would have made it back. I didn’t have
any reason to come back.”
Remington listened to Laura’s confession. He closed his eyes against the pain he heard in her voice.
Guilt for his past misdeeds roared through him. He knew they were responsible for Laura’s suffering.
“I love you too, Laura.” He stroked her hair while she cried and soaked his shirt. His own tears trailed
down his chiseled cheek as the enormity of the week slammed into him. He needed to be strong for her,
but he felt his own façade cracking into small pieces as remorse crashed down on him.
It wasn’t long before Laura became aware of Remington’s distress. Surprised, she looked up. She
couldn’t see much in the dark, but when she touched his wet face, she realized she wasn’t the only one
falling apart here. “Rei?”
“Oh God, Laura, I’m sorry. About everything. I should never have brought you into this. With all I’ve
done, I should have known this could happen. I love you too much. I’m so damned sorry.” He hugged
her tightly, forgetting about her ribs.
But she ignored them. Instead, she focused on his words. “Rei? What are you saying? Do you think
this is your fault?”
“I was a professional thief and a liar before I met you. I’m a bloody idiot to think no one would come
after us.”
Laura pushed herself off him and sat up. “And I was a private investigator before I met you. If you’ll
recall, one of our first cases together involved someone trying to kill you because ‘Remington Steele’ put
him behind bars. Do you think I didn’t suffer guilt because of that?”
“What? No, Laura. You can’t control things like that.”
“How is this any different? You didn’t work for the Six. Someone heard of your reputation and
exploited you. How many times over the years has our agency’s reputation been used either against us
or for us? It’s a fact of life, not a ... a function of your past.”
At times like this, Remington admired Laura’s logic. She used it like a hard left jab to knock sense into
his head. He fell silent for several minutes as he processed her words. “It’s not. You’re right, love.”
A few minutes later, he spoke again. “Laura, Ms. Sweeney said something to me yesterday, and I think
perhaps you should hear it too. She said I ... had to forgive myself for what I had done to you ...
because I had little choice in the matter. I’m still working on that.” He took a deep breath. “And she
said I had to forgive you because you didn’t know what you did to me.”
Laura caught her breath. “Is that why you haven’t wanted to touch me? Because you were angry with
me?”
Remington shook his head, and then realized she couldn’t see the motion. “No. Perhaps. Mostly I’m
angry because I didn’t think of any other way out for us. Whether you remember or not, I know how
much I hurt you and I keep seeing you--” He couldn’t say the words again.
“Did you think I blamed you for that?”
“No. You made it quite clear that this wasn’t our doing; I--“ He stopped again.
“You what?”
“I think, for a while, I was afraid of you,” he confessed. Laura bit her knuckle as tears filled her eyes
again.
“I can’t believe I’m about to tell you this. There are some things that ought to stay buried forever.” He
was suddenly grateful for the darkness. He didn’t think he could tell her this story in the light of day.
“Laura, try to imagine what I looked like at twelve or thirteen.”
It took her a few minutes, but she put together an image of a tall, thin adolescent with enormous blue
eyes and a shock of black hair. “You must have been a beautiful young boy.”
“Yes, I was.”
Suddenly, she was cold. “Did you, I mean, were you--“
“Raped? No, I was one of the lucky ones. But it’s not for a lack of people trying. That’s why the
orphanage took me back. I think I was eight or nine and had made my way through most of whatever
spurious family connections I might have had. The final stop involved a heavy-handed uncle that liked to
leave bruises. The last time we fought, he attempted to have his way with me. I slugged him in the groin
and he beat me senseless. Someone at the hospital tipped off the authorities and I went back to the
orphanage.”
“A year or so later, another boy my age--Charlie was his name--and I were taken in by the Darveys.
They said they wanted a couple of farmhands, but it wasn’t until much later that I caught on that we
were the prettiest boys of the lot. Charlie’s parents had died in an accident a year or so before, so he
was eager to integrate into a new family. I was so damned terrified of nearly everyone that I spent most
of my time in the fields or in the hayloft. I’d sneak in at night and steal food from the pantry after
everyone had gone to bed.”
“One night, a month or so after we'd arrived, two of the Darvey brothers dragged poor Charlie to the
barn. I was in the hayloft and watched them rape that poor boy. They did it again every night for a
week. I did my best to stay in the far end of the fields, but the last time, you could hear his screaming all
the way down the road. When they were done, I looked in on him. I don’t know why I went into the
barn, but I had to see. He was lying there, bleeding all to hell, and he had a knife in his hands. I don’t
know how he got hold of it, but he’d slit his wrists before I got there. All I could do was stare at him. I
remember his looking at me and saying, ‘You’re next.’ Then he died.”
“I grabbed his knife and ran away that night. I rubbed dirt in my hair and on my face and wore the
rattiest, smelliest clothes I could steal. A few days later I stowed away on a freighter headed for
London. I don’t know what I thought I’d find there, but I had to get away from Dublin.” A flash of
lightning illuminated his face, and Laura could see his ragged expression for a moment. She kept silent,
waiting for him to continue.
“It wasn’t long before I discovered little gangs of kids hidden in pockets all over the city. When one of
them caught on to the fact that I wasn’t bad at nicking a bit of food, they offered me a flop--a place to
sleep--in return for a share of what I nicked. I thought it was a good deal for an Irish bastard that had
spent a couple of months sleeping in alleys. I was petrified of getting caught like Charlie, so I did my best
to stay hidden and to keep up the illusion of a tattered, ugly boy. But I filled out some, probably from all
the fights I was in--fights are just a way of life down there--so that only lasted a year or two before the
girls noticed what was under the dirt.”
“Laura, I was probably twelve or thirteen the first time I had sex. The girls on the streets never seemed
to have anything else to offer except their bodies, and one of the lasses just a couple of years older than I
offered herself in exchange for some pretty trinkets she wanted. She got them and I got an education.
After that, it seemed as if half the girls in the neighborhood found a reason to be with me. I was quite a
bit older when I understood why. I was so pretty, and most of them had such little self-esteem, that they
thought that if I slept with them, it would mean they were pretty too.” Laura caught his bitter tones
accompanying that admission.
“After that, it didn’t take long for some of the women living in the area to catch on too. I discovered I
could earn a few quid by going home with one of them every so often. By then I could take care of
myself, so I cleaned myself up, picked pockets and ran small cons for the most part. But then I’d start
craving a warm bed, a shower and a hot meal. It seemed a small price to pay for those things. In that, I
wasn’t much different from all those girls.”
“Daniel put a stop to all that when he got hold of me. He made damned sure I knew he wasn’t interested
in me that way and never said a word when I blocked the doorway with a chair every night for a year.
But he also kept me away from the girls, said I needed to grow up a bit. We had some blistering fights
over that, but he wouldn’t back down. It wasn’t until I was sixteen or so that he decided to take me to a
friend of his and drop me off for the weekend. Told me it was time to learn what it really meant to be a
man. After that, whenever I got itchy, he’d let me go see her. Later I learned she made quite a bit of
money from Daniel to instruct me in the arts of seduction. And then we fought about that too.”
“When I started running cons with him, he used to get annoyed with me because I wouldn’t seduce a
woman to lift a gem from her. Oh, I thought nothing of charming and distracting a woman on the dance
floor--I considered that fair game. But not in the bedroom. Because of those girls on the street, I never
wanted any lover I had to think I was just using her. I wanted her to wake feeling beautiful and lovely
even if she knew she would never see me again.”
Remington sighed in remembrance. “Daniel loved getting the best of other people, man or woman, by
any means necessary. There was nothing he liked more than plucking a pretty bauble from a lady
fancying herself in love with him or taking a pocket watch from a gentleman who thought he was an old
friend and above suspicion. He enjoyed getting away with things right underneath their noses.”
“I think that’s why I liked the heist better than picking pockets. There was no one to compromise except
a security system.”
“When I met you, Laura, you enchanted me. You made it very apparent how much you were attracted
to me on the surface. But you also made it crystal clear that you saw a great deal more in me and liked
that part too--liked it enough that we could find ourselves in very deep waters. That’s when I realized a
couple of things: one, it became very apparent to me that any woman I took to bed would simply be a
poor substitute for you, and two, I simply couldn’t make love to you until I was entirely sure that you
wouldn’t regret it. That meant waiting for you to come to me.”
“That night, Laura, I was taken back to my youth. You didn’t call me ‘Rei’ even one time. You wanted
my body and what I could do to you--nothing more. And then when I took you that last time, I broke a
promise to myself never to use what I had learned to hurt someone else. To have done it to you--of all
people. …” She heard him shift again. His voice was rough and thick, and she could tell he was
struggling to regain his composure. “I saw your face when you woke up. To know that I caused you to
feel that way is the worst thing I’ve done in my lifetime."
Laura spoke quietly, “Rei, do you have any idea how horrible it was for me to wake up and think for
nearly three days that someone else had touched me that way? And the relief I felt to find out that you
didn’t let that happen? I went from feeling dirty to clean in two heartbeats. If you were anyone other
than you, it could have been so much worse--and you of all people know exactly how terrible it could
have been.” She closed her eyes and though for a moment. “I have to live with the fact that I hurt you
while I was drugged. I’m angry with myself that I could do that to you. I had always thought, naively,
that under even the worst influences, I would treat those I love with care. I’m sorry, Rei. I’m sorry for
all those things.”
She choked up for a moment before letting out a sobbing breath and continuing, “Think about this and
decide how you feel. If I had not been drugged, but we were put in the same situation, I would have
asked you to break your promise, no matter how much it hurt me physically, because you would be
protecting my heart and my mind in the process. I … I’m not sure what that says about me that I would
want you to compromise yourself just to save me.”
She heard soft, relieved laughter from Remington. “Laura, I can’t count the number of ways you’ve
compromised your own principles because you love me. Surely, just this once, I can learn to live with
it. Kiss me, Laura. Kiss me because you love me.”
She didn’t hesitate. She brought one hand to curve around his neck and pulled his head to hers. She
brushed her fingers through his hair while she tasted his mouth and savored the flavor. As she began to
draw away, Remington slid his own hand into her hair and tightened his grip, this time demanding a kiss
and taking it. Their passion flared, but when it threatened to take control, he pulled his mouth from hers
and rested his chin on her head. They stayed that way on the floor of the closet in the dark, taking
comfort in each other’s arms.
Exhausted from her crying jag and reveling in his embrace, it didn’t take long after that for Laura to fall
asleep. While debating the merits of moving her to their bed, Remington gave into his own weariness.
He pulled a lump of material under his head and closed his eyes.
Several hours later, the power came back on and the hum of the air conditioner woke Remington. Why
was the bed so hard? Where was Laura? He rolled over and bumped into his wife. Laura sat next to
him in the dark with her arms wrapped around one knee. She had been listening to him breathe while he
slept.
“Hi.”
“Hello, love.” Ah, yes, the closet. Laura. Personal crisis. Got it.
“I’d rather be in bed, wouldn’t you?”
Remington grinned and scratched his chin. “Of course.” He stood and stretched before divesting himself
entirely of clothing. Nude, he helped Laura to her feet. She dropped her slacks to the floor and started
to unbutton the shirt she was wearing. He brushed her hands away. “No. Leave it on.” He loved it
when she wore his clothes.
He lifted her in his arms one more time and carried her to the bed. Setting her down, he slid beneath the
covers and pulled her into his embrace. Virtuously, he closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep. Laura
chuckled and followed suit.
Chapter 18 -- Solace
At three, Mildred shoved all the paperwork into file folders and told Laura to go take a nap. They had
made painstaking progress by matching up dozens of names on the disks with notations in the Filofax.
Mildred even managed to talk with a few of the people by telephone. Several declined to discuss any
contact with O’Callaghan, but three others whispered about the threats and money paid in the hopes that
the private investigator could "do something about ‘im.”
Mildred noticed Laura checking the time throughout the day. Now she was nervously fingering the
shirttail of Mr. Steele’s dress shirt. “Kiddo, go take a nap. I’ll wake you when it’s time for dinner.”
Laura didn’t want to be alone. “I’d rather watch television.”
“Sounds good to me. Let’s see what we can find.” Mildred found a silly British comedy that looked
promising. A few moments later, she was completely engrossed in the characters.
So far Laura thought she had done well keeping her fears and apprehensions at bay, but now--without
the investigative work to distract her--it was difficult not to dwell on the car bomb, the beating or the way
she and Remington had been manipulated. These last few days, both the heavy-duty painkillers and
Remington had been her cushion against all the shocks and the reality of the kidnapping and subsequent
abuse. Since this morning’s nightmares though, Laura found the horror of it all encroaching upon her like
a black cloud threatening to engulf her whole being. Against her will, her emotions spiraled downwards.
Steele waved down a taxi and glanced at his watch. “Think we have time for another stop?”
“Sure. As long as the weather holds out.” Murphy looked at the darkening sky. They ducked into the
taxi.
“Cleary’s, mate.”
During the short ride, Steele asked to see the pendant Murphy purchased for Kate. He held it to the
light, turning it this way and that. “Excellent taste, Murphy. Art Nouveau style. The unique trio of
emerald, pearl and diamond is perfect for her. She’ll like it very much.”
“I hope so. And thanks for getting me a good deal on it.”
“Helps when you have a friend in the business, eh, mate?” They both laughed.
“Hey, I didn’t see what you picked up for Laura.”
Steele grinned. “This little bauble?” He held out the bracelet.
Murphy whistled. “No wonder Malone said it was his best piece. It’s gorgeous. Laura’s going to shit a
brick when she sees that.”
Remington waggled his eyebrows. “Hopefully, she’ll find something more interesting to do than that.”
“Guess that will depend on how you give it to her.” Murphy scratched at his cheek. “Steele, I have to
ask. Why would Malone keep a piece like that in the dummy safe?”
Remington looked at his nails before answering, “Ah, that’s to keep it from looking like a dummy safe.
Most everyone 'in the business,’ as it were, knows the jeweler keeps the goods in his office. It makes
excellent business sense. But a good jeweler will have a second hidden safe where he keeps the prime
pieces. When you find that, you’ve struck the big time. A great jeweler will have a third hidden safe and
keep one excellent bauble in the dummy safe to keep you from looking for the third one.”
He smiled at the bracelet. “This is the excellent bauble: mid-1920’s, Art Deco, twenty-eight scissor-cut
deep blue sapphires, and two hundred diamonds set in platinum. Something like six carats of diamonds
and another six and a half of sapphires. Yes, I think Laura will, as you put it, shit a brick.” He slipped
the bracelet inside his jacket.
The sky darkened along with Laura’s mental state. Mildred snapped off the television. Laura didn’t
notice as she stared into the gathering storm clouds. “Hey, I need some food. You want a sandwich?”
Laura barely heard her but rose automatically and headed for the kitchen. They made dinner while
Mildred kept up a light chatter. Finally, she had enough. “Laura, you’ve got to snap out of this. Mr.
Steele will be back in just a couple of hours.” Mildred patted her on the arm.
Laura smiled absent-mindedly, if not sincerely, at her and sat to eat her sandwich and chips. She picked
at them both for a while and concentrated on keeping all the dark thoughts at bay. When the sun sank
low on the horizon and lightening flashed in the distance, Laura rose, murmuring about sleeping a bit until
Mr. Steele came home.
Mildred hoped her mood would be better when she woke.
Two men strolled into a bar, not an uncommon occurrence on a Friday after work. These two worked
their way through the happy hour crowd and ordered a couple of pints from the harried bartender. “Aye,
wot can I get ye?” The barman spoke before looking up and sucking in his breath at Steele’s icy blue
eyes.
“Two pints of Guinness, mate.” Murphy shot Steele a sour look. One pint per trip to Ireland was
enough for him.
The barman’s gaze wandered down, taking in the expensive suits, custom dress shirts and tasteful
jewelry both men wore. “Aye, be just a moment.”
He set the pints in front of them, and Steele laid a fifty-pound note on the counter. “Can you spare an
old friend some conversation?”
The bartender glanced at the rest of the customers waiting for their drinks and pocketed the money. “Be
just a minute.” He yelled for someone from the back to tend the bar and flipped up the pass-through.
He motioned the two men into a tiny snug to lend them a bit of privacy. “Mick, ye shouldn’t be here.”
“It’s too late for such things. I need to know what O’Callaghan’s up to and why he wants me for the
job.”
The other man flinched. “Word on the streets is that the rest of the Dublin Six are cutting him out. He’s
gone a bit loopy lately and they want him out. Needs a bit o’ blunt to keep up his end of the operations.
A lot of blunt, truth be told.”
“How did my name get into this?”
“Ah, mate, yer legendary. E’eryone knows yer a master. O’Callaghan, ‘e wanted th’ best. I mean, look
at ye--ye didn’t get that by working as an honest man does.”
Steele arched a brow while Murphy tried to stifle his guffaw. “Thanks, mate.” He drained his pint and
rose before tossing a hundred-pound note on the table. “Have a pint on me.”
While they waited for a cab, Murphy heard Remington swear under his breath, “Bloody, buggering
bastard.”
Murphy flagged down a yellow taxi. “Are we talking about the bartender or O’Callaghan?”
“Neither--it’s me. I’ll be damned if I set foot in this country again. I’ve got too many bloody skeletons
in the closet to bring Laura here.” He rubbed at his chin. “No matter what she does to clear my name, I
always seem to have something else around the corner.”
“Steele, it’s just as dangerous in LA.”
“Is it?”
The fury of the storm smashed across Cork and blasted toward Dublin in a roar. A massive bolt of
lightning sent Laura shrieking upright in bed. The power flickered and died, silencing the hum of the air
conditioner and plunging Laura into darkness.
The atrocities of the week swirled around in her dreams while she slept. Now, alone and in the dark, she
simply shattered. Hysterically crying, her only thought was to protect herself from her captors. She
managed to shove the huge dresser along the wall to block the door before Mildred began knocking on it
and calling her name.
“Laura, Laura, are you okay?” Mildred could hear the other woman sobbing. She tried the door, but it
wouldn’t budge.
Laura stumbled into the bathroom and slid to the floor of the closet, taking Remington’s clothes with
her. She clutched his shirts and jackets while she cried.
The flight from Dublin was delayed for nearly three hours because of the massive storm cells.
Remington called the suite, but no one answered the phone. He learned from the local news on the
television monitors scattered about the terminal that much of Cork was without power due to this same
storm.
When the men finally arrived, it took another hour for the taxi driver to navigate the darkened streets,
and it was nearly midnight when the two men entered the hotel lobby. They climbed the stairs to the
Presidential Suite to find Mildred pacing in the living room.
“It’s Laura, Boss. She’s been locked in there for hours now. She must have moved something in front
of the door because I can’t get in. I heard her crying earlier, but now I can’t hear anything at all.”
A picture of the cold, dark cell flashed in Steele’s mind. He stripped off his coat and tie and ducked onto
the wet terrace. Murphy followed and watched the nimble man climb the railing and jump from the
terrace to the small patio off the master suite. Remington made short work of the lock with the pick he
kept in his shirt cuff. When he closed the door behind him and pushed open the drapes for better light,
he could see that Laura had shoved the dresser somehow to block the doorway. He rapped twice on the
door to let Murphy and Mildred know he was inside.
He could hear her cries coming from the bathroom and his heart stumbled. Laura rarely wept. Oh,
maybe a tear or two here and there, but really letting it all out? In all their years, Remington only
remembered one time, and that was when her house had been destroyed by a bomb.
A stray bolt of lightning briefly illuminated the bath suite, and he found her sitting in the little closet,
wrapped in one of his coats and wearing his shirt. Tears streamed down her face, and her wet lashes
fanned down on her cheeks. “Rei, Rei, don’t leave me. Oh God, please don’t leave me. Remington, I
can’t do this by myself. Not now. Not after all we’ve been through. Rei, please come home.” She kept
up the running dialogue in between racking sobs.
Shocked by the desolation he saw on her face, for a moment he didn’t move. Then he knelt in front of
her, softly calling her name so as not to startle her. “Laura. Laura, I’m here.”
Her lashes fanned up. Her hands shook as she reached for him. “Don’t go. I’m sorry for what I did to
you. I know I hurt you terribly.”
He sat on the floor and pulled her into his lap. “Shh, shh, love. I’m not going anywhere.” She wrapped
her arms around his waist and placed her head against his chest. He rocked her there on the floor,
whispering soothing phrases and hugging her close. Even so, he had to lean in to hear her words.
“I see the car in flames. I remember trying to get to you and they wouldn’t let me. You were gone.
After all we’ve done, you didn’t walk away--you were killed right in front of me. It wasn’t fair. I finally
believed that you would stay forever, and you were taken away just like that.” She took a ragged breath
while Remington wiped away a tear from her cheek. “I love you, Remington. If I didn’t know how
much before, I know now. You’re my whole life. I never wanted that. I’ve always been terrified of
loving someone that much. But I do. I love you. For those three days, I thought part of me had been
ripped out. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to.”
Remington tightened his arms around her while she continued, “I sensed you. In my heart I knew you
were there, but my head said you were gone. I ... I almost convinced myself you were a ghost come
back to help me. If you hadn’t been there ... I don’t know if I would have made it back. I didn’t have
any reason to come back.”
Remington listened to Laura’s confession. He closed his eyes against the pain he heard in her voice.
Guilt for his past misdeeds roared through him. He knew they were responsible for Laura’s suffering.
“I love you too, Laura.” He stroked her hair while she cried and soaked his shirt. His own tears trailed
down his chiseled cheek as the enormity of the week slammed into him. He needed to be strong for her,
but he felt his own façade cracking into small pieces as remorse crashed down on him.
It wasn’t long before Laura became aware of Remington’s distress. Surprised, she looked up. She
couldn’t see much in the dark, but when she touched his wet face, she realized she wasn’t the only one
falling apart here. “Rei?”
“Oh God, Laura, I’m sorry. About everything. I should never have brought you into this. With all I’ve
done, I should have known this could happen. I love you too much. I’m so damned sorry.” He hugged
her tightly, forgetting about her ribs.
But she ignored them. Instead, she focused on his words. “Rei? What are you saying? Do you think
this is your fault?”
“I was a professional thief and a liar before I met you. I’m a bloody idiot to think no one would come
after us.”
Laura pushed herself off him and sat up. “And I was a private investigator before I met you. If you’ll
recall, one of our first cases together involved someone trying to kill you because ‘Remington Steele’ put
him behind bars. Do you think I didn’t suffer guilt because of that?”
“What? No, Laura. You can’t control things like that.”
“How is this any different? You didn’t work for the Six. Someone heard of your reputation and
exploited you. How many times over the years has our agency’s reputation been used either against us
or for us? It’s a fact of life, not a ... a function of your past.”
At times like this, Remington admired Laura’s logic. She used it like a hard left jab to knock sense into
his head. He fell silent for several minutes as he processed her words. “It’s not. You’re right, love.”
A few minutes later, he spoke again. “Laura, Ms. Sweeney said something to me yesterday, and I think
perhaps you should hear it too. She said I ... had to forgive myself for what I had done to you ...
because I had little choice in the matter. I’m still working on that.” He took a deep breath. “And she
said I had to forgive you because you didn’t know what you did to me.”
Laura caught her breath. “Is that why you haven’t wanted to touch me? Because you were angry with
me?”
Remington shook his head, and then realized she couldn’t see the motion. “No. Perhaps. Mostly I’m
angry because I didn’t think of any other way out for us. Whether you remember or not, I know how
much I hurt you and I keep seeing you--” He couldn’t say the words again.
“Did you think I blamed you for that?”
“No. You made it quite clear that this wasn’t our doing; I--“ He stopped again.
“You what?”
“I think, for a while, I was afraid of you,” he confessed. Laura bit her knuckle as tears filled her eyes
again.
“I can’t believe I’m about to tell you this. There are some things that ought to stay buried forever.” He
was suddenly grateful for the darkness. He didn’t think he could tell her this story in the light of day.
“Laura, try to imagine what I looked like at twelve or thirteen.”
It took her a few minutes, but she put together an image of a tall, thin adolescent with enormous blue
eyes and a shock of black hair. “You must have been a beautiful young boy.”
“Yes, I was.”
Suddenly, she was cold. “Did you, I mean, were you--“
“Raped? No, I was one of the lucky ones. But it’s not for a lack of people trying. That’s why the
orphanage took me back. I think I was eight or nine and had made my way through most of whatever
spurious family connections I might have had. The final stop involved a heavy-handed uncle that liked to
leave bruises. The last time we fought, he attempted to have his way with me. I slugged him in the groin
and he beat me senseless. Someone at the hospital tipped off the authorities and I went back to the
orphanage.”
“A year or so later, another boy my age--Charlie was his name--and I were taken in by the Darveys.
They said they wanted a couple of farmhands, but it wasn’t until much later that I caught on that we
were the prettiest boys of the lot. Charlie’s parents had died in an accident a year or so before, so he
was eager to integrate into a new family. I was so damned terrified of nearly everyone that I spent most
of my time in the fields or in the hayloft. I’d sneak in at night and steal food from the pantry after
everyone had gone to bed.”
“One night, a month or so after we'd arrived, two of the Darvey brothers dragged poor Charlie to the
barn. I was in the hayloft and watched them rape that poor boy. They did it again every night for a
week. I did my best to stay in the far end of the fields, but the last time, you could hear his screaming all
the way down the road. When they were done, I looked in on him. I don’t know why I went into the
barn, but I had to see. He was lying there, bleeding all to hell, and he had a knife in his hands. I don’t
know how he got hold of it, but he’d slit his wrists before I got there. All I could do was stare at him. I
remember his looking at me and saying, ‘You’re next.’ Then he died.”
“I grabbed his knife and ran away that night. I rubbed dirt in my hair and on my face and wore the
rattiest, smelliest clothes I could steal. A few days later I stowed away on a freighter headed for
London. I don’t know what I thought I’d find there, but I had to get away from Dublin.” A flash of
lightning illuminated his face, and Laura could see his ragged expression for a moment. She kept silent,
waiting for him to continue.
“It wasn’t long before I discovered little gangs of kids hidden in pockets all over the city. When one of
them caught on to the fact that I wasn’t bad at nicking a bit of food, they offered me a flop--a place to
sleep--in return for a share of what I nicked. I thought it was a good deal for an Irish bastard that had
spent a couple of months sleeping in alleys. I was petrified of getting caught like Charlie, so I did my best
to stay hidden and to keep up the illusion of a tattered, ugly boy. But I filled out some, probably from all
the fights I was in--fights are just a way of life down there--so that only lasted a year or two before the
girls noticed what was under the dirt.”
“Laura, I was probably twelve or thirteen the first time I had sex. The girls on the streets never seemed
to have anything else to offer except their bodies, and one of the lasses just a couple of years older than I
offered herself in exchange for some pretty trinkets she wanted. She got them and I got an education.
After that, it seemed as if half the girls in the neighborhood found a reason to be with me. I was quite a
bit older when I understood why. I was so pretty, and most of them had such little self-esteem, that they
thought that if I slept with them, it would mean they were pretty too.” Laura caught his bitter tones
accompanying that admission.
“After that, it didn’t take long for some of the women living in the area to catch on too. I discovered I
could earn a few quid by going home with one of them every so often. By then I could take care of
myself, so I cleaned myself up, picked pockets and ran small cons for the most part. But then I’d start
craving a warm bed, a shower and a hot meal. It seemed a small price to pay for those things. In that, I
wasn’t much different from all those girls.”
“Daniel put a stop to all that when he got hold of me. He made damned sure I knew he wasn’t interested
in me that way and never said a word when I blocked the doorway with a chair every night for a year.
But he also kept me away from the girls, said I needed to grow up a bit. We had some blistering fights
over that, but he wouldn’t back down. It wasn’t until I was sixteen or so that he decided to take me to a
friend of his and drop me off for the weekend. Told me it was time to learn what it really meant to be a
man. After that, whenever I got itchy, he’d let me go see her. Later I learned she made quite a bit of
money from Daniel to instruct me in the arts of seduction. And then we fought about that too.”
“When I started running cons with him, he used to get annoyed with me because I wouldn’t seduce a
woman to lift a gem from her. Oh, I thought nothing of charming and distracting a woman on the dance
floor--I considered that fair game. But not in the bedroom. Because of those girls on the street, I never
wanted any lover I had to think I was just using her. I wanted her to wake feeling beautiful and lovely
even if she knew she would never see me again.”
Remington sighed in remembrance. “Daniel loved getting the best of other people, man or woman, by
any means necessary. There was nothing he liked more than plucking a pretty bauble from a lady
fancying herself in love with him or taking a pocket watch from a gentleman who thought he was an old
friend and above suspicion. He enjoyed getting away with things right underneath their noses.”
“I think that’s why I liked the heist better than picking pockets. There was no one to compromise except
a security system.”
“When I met you, Laura, you enchanted me. You made it very apparent how much you were attracted
to me on the surface. But you also made it crystal clear that you saw a great deal more in me and liked
that part too--liked it enough that we could find ourselves in very deep waters. That’s when I realized a
couple of things: one, it became very apparent to me that any woman I took to bed would simply be a
poor substitute for you, and two, I simply couldn’t make love to you until I was entirely sure that you
wouldn’t regret it. That meant waiting for you to come to me.”
“That night, Laura, I was taken back to my youth. You didn’t call me ‘Rei’ even one time. You wanted
my body and what I could do to you--nothing more. And then when I took you that last time, I broke a
promise to myself never to use what I had learned to hurt someone else. To have done it to you--of all
people. …” She heard him shift again. His voice was rough and thick, and she could tell he was
struggling to regain his composure. “I saw your face when you woke up. To know that I caused you to
feel that way is the worst thing I’ve done in my lifetime."
Laura spoke quietly, “Rei, do you have any idea how horrible it was for me to wake up and think for
nearly three days that someone else had touched me that way? And the relief I felt to find out that you
didn’t let that happen? I went from feeling dirty to clean in two heartbeats. If you were anyone other
than you, it could have been so much worse--and you of all people know exactly how terrible it could
have been.” She closed her eyes and though for a moment. “I have to live with the fact that I hurt you
while I was drugged. I’m angry with myself that I could do that to you. I had always thought, naively,
that under even the worst influences, I would treat those I love with care. I’m sorry, Rei. I’m sorry for
all those things.”
She choked up for a moment before letting out a sobbing breath and continuing, “Think about this and
decide how you feel. If I had not been drugged, but we were put in the same situation, I would have
asked you to break your promise, no matter how much it hurt me physically, because you would be
protecting my heart and my mind in the process. I … I’m not sure what that says about me that I would
want you to compromise yourself just to save me.”
She heard soft, relieved laughter from Remington. “Laura, I can’t count the number of ways you’ve
compromised your own principles because you love me. Surely, just this once, I can learn to live with
it. Kiss me, Laura. Kiss me because you love me.”
She didn’t hesitate. She brought one hand to curve around his neck and pulled his head to hers. She
brushed her fingers through his hair while she tasted his mouth and savored the flavor. As she began to
draw away, Remington slid his own hand into her hair and tightened his grip, this time demanding a kiss
and taking it. Their passion flared, but when it threatened to take control, he pulled his mouth from hers
and rested his chin on her head. They stayed that way on the floor of the closet in the dark, taking
comfort in each other’s arms.
Exhausted from her crying jag and reveling in his embrace, it didn’t take long after that for Laura to fall
asleep. While debating the merits of moving her to their bed, Remington gave into his own weariness.
He pulled a lump of material under his head and closed his eyes.
Several hours later, the power came back on and the hum of the air conditioner woke Remington. Why
was the bed so hard? Where was Laura? He rolled over and bumped into his wife. Laura sat next to
him in the dark with her arms wrapped around one knee. She had been listening to him breathe while he
slept.
“Hi.”
“Hello, love.” Ah, yes, the closet. Laura. Personal crisis. Got it.
“I’d rather be in bed, wouldn’t you?”
Remington grinned and scratched his chin. “Of course.” He stood and stretched before divesting himself
entirely of clothing. Nude, he helped Laura to her feet. She dropped her slacks to the floor and started
to unbutton the shirt she was wearing. He brushed her hands away. “No. Leave it on.” He loved it
when she wore his clothes.
He lifted her in his arms one more time and carried her to the bed. Setting her down, he slid beneath the
covers and pulled her into his embrace. Virtuously, he closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep. Laura
chuckled and followed suit.
Chapter 18 -- Solace