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 24 Friends
“Felicia.” Remington gently disengaged the woman’s hands from his body. He pressed a kiss to each of
them. “I won’t do this, Felicia. Laura means too much to me.”
“Oh, what does Lily have to do with it? A tumble for the night and she would never know. I certainly
won’t tell.” She pressed her body into Remington’s, wiggling while she leaned.
“Felicia, no. Not tonight, not ever.” He held her away from him, gently, but firmly.
“Well, damn. You’ve turned me down three times since you’ve become smitten with Leila. I’m not
going to ask again. You’ll just have to beg and crawl when you’re through with her. Now, if you’re not
going to indulge me in bed, then you’re damned well going to drink with me.” She whirled away and
seated herself gracefully on the sofa.
“I can do that, gladly.” Remington rummaged through the tiny kitchen for a pair of champagne flutes
and grabbed a bottle of Dom from the refrigerator. He always kept a couple of bottles chilling, one of his
exacting requirements as a landlord. He popped open the bottle and sat near his friend, pouring each of
them a glass. Remington sipped his champagne while Felicia knocked hers back.
“Michael, do you remember Italy?” She tangled her fingers in his hair again.
“Which part?”
“Oh, the one in Florence where we romped through the Silver Museum.”
“Ah, yes, how can we forget the time I nearly dropped half the loot on the way out the window.”
“We lived like kings for a year after that. God, that cruise on the Mediterranean was fabulous!”
“Mm, yes. The food was amazing!”
“Oh, what is it with you and food?” she exclaimed. “I seem to remember you and a sloe-eyed Greek girl
that didn’t leave the cabin for three days. She didn’t walk straight for the rest of the trip.”
“Oh, yeah, what about the Turkish lad that nearly threw himself off the ship when you told him you
wouldn’t marry him?”
“Posh, that was just a little misunderstanding. You led him around soon enough.”
“I did at that.”
“Michael, I’ve got to ask. Just what is it with Lindsay?”
“Laura. Why? Are you jealous?” He arched a brow and sipped his drink.
“Not particularly. I just don’t see the attraction. I mean, darling, really, she’s all wrapped up in her
agency and she’s so, so quiet.”
“Felicia, you don’t really want me to sing her praises to you, do you?”
“Not especially, but I would like to know what she’s got on you?”
Remington smiled. “She loves me. No reservations, no holds barred. And she expects me to love her
the same way. She has from the day I met her. It’s a challenge I couldn’t possibly resist.”
“But it’s such a simple life. Going to work, coming home, repeat ad nauseum.”
Remington laughed uproariously. “Felicia, you have no idea. Simple does not apply to Laura Holt.”
Felicia pouted and laid her head on his shoulder. “Does this mean I have to like her?”
“No, but it would make my life tremendously easier.”
Laura knew she was in trouble when she saw lights in the flat. Taking a deep breath, she slipped the key
in the door and opened it, catching both Remington and Felicia by surprise. The blonde hardly shifted
from his shoulder, just slanted her head in Laura’s direction. Remington was sprawled on the sofa with
his shirt half-open and his feet propped up on the coffee table. He had one arm around Felicia and the
other hand was loosely holding a champagne glass.
“Laura!” In a knee-jerk reaction, Remington automatically glanced down at himself and Felicia to see if
they were in an incriminating position. Then he narrowed his blue eyes at his wife. “Where have you
been?” She was dressed in the same siren-red outfit from last week. “And why are you here instead of
with Buchanan in Cork?”
He shifted Felicia off his shoulder, set his glass on the table and crossed to her. “Laura?” He could see
she was putting up her defenses.
“Buchanan needed my help.”
“You did not meet with Johnny Carlisle.” His voice was harsh.
“I did.”
“God damn it, Laura!” Remington snatched a pretty vase off a nearby table and flung it across the
room. “We get clear of one of the bloody Six and you walk us right into another one!” He stalked
across the room, flinging curses along the way until he restrained the urge to strangle her. Returning to
stand in front of her, he gripped her shoulders and then pulled her into a tight embrace. “Buggering hell,
love, this is too big for us. I want to go home and get away from this nightmare.”
She tilted her head back so she could see his face. He frowned. “Laura, why are your eyes blue?”
“Do you want to hear me out?”
He stepped back, jammed his hands in his pockets and sighed. “This better be good.” He found a
toothpick in his pocket and began chewing on it nervously while he paced.
Felicia drank her champagne and watched the match with much amusement. She had no idea that Leslie
could stand toe-to-toe with Michael. Not to mention that this was only the second time she had seen the
petite brunette in anything other than a sensible suit. Red was definitely her color and the shoes were to
die for.
“First, I’m not an idiot. The agent that was to meet with Carlisle was injured in a car accident earlier.
She’s a blue-eyed Brit. Tonight, I was too.”
“Since when can you pull off an English accent?”
Changing the sound of her voice, she said, “Darling, since I’ve spent the last six years listening to yours.”
Felicia coughed to cover a laugh. This was turning out to be fun.
Laura’s whole demeanor changed as she shifted into character. She slyly strutted across the room and
explained. “I told Johnny about Denis. Told him Denis was in the clink and Johnny better have his
books clean. He paid me too.” She stopped, skimming a single finger down Remington’s bare throat
before retrieving the wad of cash from her pocket and shoving it at him.
He frowned again, counting it with hardly a glance. Two thousand. Not bad for an amateur. “You--a
snitch?
“If he buys it, Interpol has their link into his organization.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“If he links Mickey to you--“
“Mickey?”
She shifted out of character and resumed her normal voice as she paced in the living room. “Me. Follow
me on this one. First, if Carlisle manages to connect ‘Mickey’ to ‘Mick O’Leary,’ he won’t wonder why
Mick’s girl is passing information to him. He’ll assume I’m just a snitch using your connections.”
“Second, if Carlisle links Mick O’Leary to Remington Steele, he’s sure to find out what happened to us
and then to O’Callaghan. And if he thinks that you’re capable of bringing down O’Callaghan, he won’t
be interested in crossing you. You’re no longer a streetwise thief; you’re a major player, capable of
pulling in the resources you need to deal with the Six. But we’re going to go home. By sending me in to
pass the tip to Carlisle, you’re letting him know that O’Callaghan’s been dealt with and you’re washing
your hands of the mess.”
Still fuming, Remington tried to find the holes in her logic. “If he does make the connection, Interpol
doesn’t get their link.”
“That’s their problem. I promised you that the Six would leave you alone. Today I had the perfect
opportunity to make good on that promise. Besides, if Interpol can’t trace backwards from
O’Callaghan’s financial records to Carlisle, then they don’t deserve the badges they wear.”
Felicia looked at Laura with new respect for her convoluted and laser sharp logic. “Why’d you pick the
name ‘Mickey'?”
“Mick--Mickey. I’m hoping Carlisle’s smarter than he looks. Plus I told him that a little money makes
sure that I don’t remember anything in the morning.” She shot the other woman a smile. “If he misses
that one, he deserves to have Interpol infiltrate his entire organization from the top down.”
Felicia didn’t even bother to cover her laugh this time.
Laura stopped in front of her husband. “Want to hear the best part?” Remington arched a brow at her.
“Since we warned Johnny about the books, if any financial transactions from O’Callaghan track back to
him, he’ll automatically assume we didn’t have anything to do with it. Especially if we make sure we
stay out of his way until Interpol is finished.”
Felicia started clapping. “Damn, Michael. Maybe I do get what you see in her.” She cocked her head at
Laura and rose from the sofa. “I should be jealous.”
Laura and Felicia stood face-to-face for a moment. Laura’s eyes slid to Remington’s face, then back to
the blonde’s.
Remington was wary, not sure of what was going to happen. “Ah, Laura--” he started to intervene.
But one more time, Laura surprised the hell out of him. She took Felicia’s hands in hers and leaned up
to kiss her cheek. “Thank you, Felicia. You kept him safe. You’re a good friend to him. And you have
my heartfelt thanks for both.”
Felicia hesitated, then nodded, unsure if Laura was playing straight with her. “You’re welcome.”
“I assume you need a place to stay tonight. Feel free to use the second bedroom. As for me, I’m going
to get out of these shoes and ice my knee for a while.” Laura shot Remington a hard look before
ascending the staircase.
“Laura?” he called to her.
“Yes?”
“Why did you come here?”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t stay anywhere else. I wanted to be here when you came home.” Her
voice floated down as she disappeared into the larger of the two rooms upstairs.
Remington exchanged a long look with Felicia and then excused himself to follow Laura.
Felicia shrugged and retrieved her glass of champagne. This night wasn’t turning out quite as she
anticipated, but the entertainment value was an unexpected bonus. She strolled upstairs, curious to know
if Michael was going to grovel or gain the upper hand with Lila.
Laura had changed into casual clothes and was in the process of hanging up the red dress when
Remington leaned against the door frame.
“I suspect I’m supposed to offer an apology, but for the life of me I can’t imagine why,” he stated.
“Neither can I.” She unpinned her hair and began shaking it out with her hands.
“I don’t suppose you’re interested in tendering one either.”
She tossed her head back and sat on the bed. “Not really. Would you have done any differently?”
He eased down beside her and took her hand, noting that her eyes were brown again. “No. But I don’t
have to like it. And Buchanan still has to answer to me.”
“Don’t bother. I made it next to impossible for him to make any other choice. As soon as I caught the
gist of the situation, I knew what I had to do.” Laura leaned back on the bed and propped a pillow under
her sore joint. “How did it go tonight? I mean, I know it worked, but how did it go?”
Remington began massaging her calf and knee. “Ah, quite well. Peterson was persnickety about the way
it went down, but Felicia and I got the job done.”
“Oh, that feels incredible. Persnickety over what?”
“I’d rather have him tell you. I like watching him squirm. By the way, I have a gift for you.”
Her eyes swept down his body suggestively. “Really? And I haven’t even started.” Laughing, he
reached in his pocket and set the raw red diamond on her stomach. Hesitantly, she picked it up and
turned it over in her hands. “It’s incredible. Such a little thing can be at the center of everything. What
are you planning to do with it?”
“That’s up to you.”
“Me? Why me?”
“Because you paid the price for it.”
“I don’t want it.”
“I know.”
“Remington?” She suddenly became serious.
“Yes?”
Laura’s eyes watered. “I want to go home too.”
Remington reached his arm around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. “We’ll go tomorrow, love.”
Felicia was terribly disappointed in Michael. Really, he had turned into a mushy sap over Lola. And
what was that business with the diamond? Nobody had to like the gems, just find a good buyer. She
sulked and threw herself on the bed.
In the morning, Remington rapped on Felicia’s door to wake her while Laura heated water for tea in the
kitchen. She could hear a murmured exchange before her husband joined her.
“Ah, Laura?” She looked up at him. “You haven’t asked why Felicia is here.”
“I imagine it’s because you want to make certain Interpol doesn’t get their hands on her.” Laura eyed
the blonde as she descended the stairs. It really was quite unfair for her to be still so lovely and elegant,
despite the slightly rumpled white dress.
Felicia sashayed into the kitchen and kissed Remington full on the lips. He winced and stepped away.
“Felicia, we have a plane to catch. Feel free to stay as long as you like, lock up when you leave, and, uh,
take the back way out. I’m sure Interpol would love to tail you to your next destination.”
“Be a dear and call a cab for me. I’ll see myself out. Oh, and don’t forget my fee.” She held out a
hand.
Remington winced again and shrugged in apology to Laura as he slipped a folded cashier’s check out of
his jacket pocket. He placed it in Felicia’s hand and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” The woman nodded to Laura. “Lena, it’s been a delight. Keep him on his
toes.” Felicia gracefully climbed the stairs again and disappeared into a tiny closet. Laura slanted a
quizzical look at Remington.
“Ah, hidden roof access. One moment.” Remington dialed for a taxi to pick up Felicia three streets
over. “It’s, ah, always handy to have another way out.”
Laura leaned against the wall, smiling as she held her tea.
Remington put one hand in a pocket and nibbled the thumbnail of the other. “You’re really not angry
with me? Over Felicia being here?”
“I wasn’t aware I had a reason to be upset with you.” Laura sipped her tea calmly. She was having too
much fun watching her husband squirm. “I imagine there are several friends of yours, none of whom
actually need something as mundane as a key, that pop into any number of our residences from time to
time.
Inwardly, Remington flinched. Sometimes there were nuances to marriage he hadn’t figured out. He still
wasn’t sure if he was in deep water.
Laura continued to needle him a little more. “And Felicia? She has excellent taste in men. I can’t fault
her for that.”
“Laura, I promise nothing happened.”
Now she laughed outright. “I know, love.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
“How?”
She tilted her head at him and fired questions at him. “You stayed chaste for how many years? And I’m
to believe that you can’t manage one evening with an old lover? How many times have you turned her
down now?”
“Three.”
“She won’t ask again, you know.”
“Thank God.”
Laura laughed out again and threw her arms around Remington. She looked at the clock, noting that it
was almost time for Peterson to pick them up. “Mr. Steele, just what kind of trouble can we make in ten
minutes?”
“Well, now, Mrs. Steele, perhaps I should show you.”
On Interpol’s airplane, Laura giggled at Peterson’s discomfort while Murphy gleefully spilled the details
of the previous night’s exchange. Brian actually unbent enough toward the end to chuckle. He had to
admit that Steele cleverly arranged the whole operation right under his nose. At least now he understood
how the thief managed to avoid him all those years.
Afterwards, while Laura was telling Murphy and Mildred about the scene with Carlisle, Brian leaned over
to Remington and held out his hand. Tentatively, Steele shook it and arched a brow in query.
“You did well. Extraordinarily well. I know you didn’t do it for Interpol. But thank you, anyway.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Buchanan wants you, you know.”
“Wants me for what?”
“Interpol. He’s wants all three of you to be agents. Your skills, your wife’s brain and Mrs. Krebs magic
fingers would be invaluable here.”
“I won’t put Laura in that kind of danger.”
“Is it any different from being a detective in Los Angeles?”
“Significantly so.”
Peterson tried a different tactic. “Your abilities would be a tremendous asset here. I imagine it would be
more interesting than installing burglar alarms and writing up security contracts.”
“You’ve done your homework.”
“That’s my job.” Peterson leaned back in his seat. “Think about it. Buchanan’s going to make a formal
offer when you get back.”
Remington was uncharacteristically quiet for the remainder of the flight.
Murphy said his goodbyes almost immediately in order to catch his plane back to Denver. “Kate and I
will bring the boys in a couple of weeks. I know she’ll want to see you.”
“Can you handle more of the Steeles that soon?” Laura teased.
“Well, if you put it like that--” He grinned at her and caught her in a tight embrace before holding his
hand out to Steele. Remington took it and was surprised when Murphy pulled him in for a rough man-
hug and a pat on the back. “Brother--let’s not do this again,” Murphy said seriously.
Remington coughed as his breath hitched and he thumped the other man’s back. “Thank you, mate.”
Murphy gave Mildred a kiss on the cheek and Laura one last mock-salute before he ducked into the dark
car that would take him to the airport in Cork.
Buchanan was waiting for Mildred, Remington and Laura when they returned to the house. “Please, all
of you, I’ve got something to discuss before you leave as well.” James waved them into the living room.
Mildred took the armchair while Remington and Laura sat on the couch, hand in hand. Peterson propped
up the wall in the background.
“I must congratulate you three. I’ve had experienced operatives who couldn’t do what you have done
and with little to no preparation. Ms. Krebs, the information you’ve pulled together is enough to begin
legal proceedings against the rest of the Dublin Six for several types of financial fraud.”
“Mrs. Steele, tipping off Carlisle was nothing short of inspired. You and your husband are clear of the
Six and probably with Carlisle’s gratitude. Your insight into the investigation has shed light on a number
of motives that we are pursuing with all possible speed. From what I’ve read about your kidnapping and
escape, along with seeing you in action, I’m very sorry Interpol didn’t snap you up out of college. You
would be an excellent operative.”
“And Mr. Steele. From start to finish, it’s obvious that without your abilities and contacts, none of this
would have been possible. You’ve done whatever was needed to be done, regardless of how difficult it
was, and handled it brilliantly. To make this short, Interpol wants you three in whatever capacity you
would be willing to work.”
“What do you mean?” Mildred asked.
“Agents, trainers, occasional consultants, whatever--we need people like you. We still have to take down
the rest of the Six and we’d like your help. Think about it. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Peterson and Buchanan disappeared while Laura and Mildred both looked at Remington.
“Why are you both staring at me?” he questioned.
Laura brushed his hair out of his eyes before answering, “It’s a chance for you to dust off those rusty
skills of yours and put them to good use.”
He scowled at her. “You’ll pay dearly for that insult.”
She smiled. “Oh, I hope so.”
“What about the agency?”
“Take it off the table for a minute. Would you consider Interpol’s offer?” Steele’s jaw dropped. Laura
giving up her agency? She closed his mouth. “Seriously, is this something you want to do? We’d be in
Europe doing a different kind of detective work, more demanding work that would rely on the things
Daniel taught you.” She looked over at Mildred. “What do you think?”
Mildred shook her head. “Not for me. I’ll travel wherever a case takes me, but I have plenty to do in L.
A. I’m not interested in spending my days teaching a bunch of computer geeks about hacking into a
network.”
Remington turned to Laura. “What about you?”
“I’ll go where you go, Remington. You’ve given me the last six years of your life and on my terms. If I
love you, then I have to let you grab for the golden ring when it’s your turn.”
He leaned in for a kiss. “That’s not the golden ring, Laura. You are. I don’t want to work for Interpol.”
“Why not?”
“For one, honor among thieves and all that. I can’t exactly arrest Felicia, can I? No matter how tempted
I might be. And for two, because I want to be your Remington Steele, because I love what we do. And
because of what we discussed two weeks ago.” Her brown eyes glowed and she gave him a soft smile.
The phone rang. Buchanan reappeared from the kitchen to answer it while the detectives tossed around
ideas. Remington was half-listening to the rapid exchange in French and when the agent hung up the
phone, he put his arm around his wife. As if he was carrying a heavy burden, Buchanan sat on the arm
of the sofa. “I just received word that O’Callaghan was found dead in his jail cell an hour ago. On the
surface, it appears he had a heart attack, but I think it’s safe to say an autopsy will show that he had a
little help.”
Laura let out a sharp breath and bolted from the room with Remington close behind. He cornered her in
the kitchen and she threw her arms around his neck while she shivered. “Shhhh, love. It’s over. He
can’t touch us. Shhh.” Remington's own body trembled with the realization that the nightmare of the
past two weeks was truly finished.
When she calmed, he tipped her chin up. “Let’s go home, Laura.”
* * * * *
They made a deal with Buchanan. While the detectives refused to become agents for the police force,
they hired a succession of Interpol trainees as interns for the agency. Under Remington and Laura’s
tutelage, these students became crack agents with a reputation for getting the job done.
And on the first Monday they were back in the office, an enormous bouquet of five dozen roses was
delivered to Laura. The note read:
Epilogue
“Felicia.” Remington gently disengaged the woman’s hands from his body. He pressed a kiss to each of
them. “I won’t do this, Felicia. Laura means too much to me.”
“Oh, what does Lily have to do with it? A tumble for the night and she would never know. I certainly
won’t tell.” She pressed her body into Remington’s, wiggling while she leaned.
“Felicia, no. Not tonight, not ever.” He held her away from him, gently, but firmly.
“Well, damn. You’ve turned me down three times since you’ve become smitten with Leila. I’m not
going to ask again. You’ll just have to beg and crawl when you’re through with her. Now, if you’re not
going to indulge me in bed, then you’re damned well going to drink with me.” She whirled away and
seated herself gracefully on the sofa.
“I can do that, gladly.” Remington rummaged through the tiny kitchen for a pair of champagne flutes
and grabbed a bottle of Dom from the refrigerator. He always kept a couple of bottles chilling, one of his
exacting requirements as a landlord. He popped open the bottle and sat near his friend, pouring each of
them a glass. Remington sipped his champagne while Felicia knocked hers back.
“Michael, do you remember Italy?” She tangled her fingers in his hair again.
“Which part?”
“Oh, the one in Florence where we romped through the Silver Museum.”
“Ah, yes, how can we forget the time I nearly dropped half the loot on the way out the window.”
“We lived like kings for a year after that. God, that cruise on the Mediterranean was fabulous!”
“Mm, yes. The food was amazing!”
“Oh, what is it with you and food?” she exclaimed. “I seem to remember you and a sloe-eyed Greek girl
that didn’t leave the cabin for three days. She didn’t walk straight for the rest of the trip.”
“Oh, yeah, what about the Turkish lad that nearly threw himself off the ship when you told him you
wouldn’t marry him?”
“Posh, that was just a little misunderstanding. You led him around soon enough.”
“I did at that.”
“Michael, I’ve got to ask. Just what is it with Lindsay?”
“Laura. Why? Are you jealous?” He arched a brow and sipped his drink.
“Not particularly. I just don’t see the attraction. I mean, darling, really, she’s all wrapped up in her
agency and she’s so, so quiet.”
“Felicia, you don’t really want me to sing her praises to you, do you?”
“Not especially, but I would like to know what she’s got on you?”
Remington smiled. “She loves me. No reservations, no holds barred. And she expects me to love her
the same way. She has from the day I met her. It’s a challenge I couldn’t possibly resist.”
“But it’s such a simple life. Going to work, coming home, repeat ad nauseum.”
Remington laughed uproariously. “Felicia, you have no idea. Simple does not apply to Laura Holt.”
Felicia pouted and laid her head on his shoulder. “Does this mean I have to like her?”
“No, but it would make my life tremendously easier.”
Laura knew she was in trouble when she saw lights in the flat. Taking a deep breath, she slipped the key
in the door and opened it, catching both Remington and Felicia by surprise. The blonde hardly shifted
from his shoulder, just slanted her head in Laura’s direction. Remington was sprawled on the sofa with
his shirt half-open and his feet propped up on the coffee table. He had one arm around Felicia and the
other hand was loosely holding a champagne glass.
“Laura!” In a knee-jerk reaction, Remington automatically glanced down at himself and Felicia to see if
they were in an incriminating position. Then he narrowed his blue eyes at his wife. “Where have you
been?” She was dressed in the same siren-red outfit from last week. “And why are you here instead of
with Buchanan in Cork?”
He shifted Felicia off his shoulder, set his glass on the table and crossed to her. “Laura?” He could see
she was putting up her defenses.
“Buchanan needed my help.”
“You did not meet with Johnny Carlisle.” His voice was harsh.
“I did.”
“God damn it, Laura!” Remington snatched a pretty vase off a nearby table and flung it across the
room. “We get clear of one of the bloody Six and you walk us right into another one!” He stalked
across the room, flinging curses along the way until he restrained the urge to strangle her. Returning to
stand in front of her, he gripped her shoulders and then pulled her into a tight embrace. “Buggering hell,
love, this is too big for us. I want to go home and get away from this nightmare.”
She tilted her head back so she could see his face. He frowned. “Laura, why are your eyes blue?”
“Do you want to hear me out?”
He stepped back, jammed his hands in his pockets and sighed. “This better be good.” He found a
toothpick in his pocket and began chewing on it nervously while he paced.
Felicia drank her champagne and watched the match with much amusement. She had no idea that Leslie
could stand toe-to-toe with Michael. Not to mention that this was only the second time she had seen the
petite brunette in anything other than a sensible suit. Red was definitely her color and the shoes were to
die for.
“First, I’m not an idiot. The agent that was to meet with Carlisle was injured in a car accident earlier.
She’s a blue-eyed Brit. Tonight, I was too.”
“Since when can you pull off an English accent?”
Changing the sound of her voice, she said, “Darling, since I’ve spent the last six years listening to yours.”
Felicia coughed to cover a laugh. This was turning out to be fun.
Laura’s whole demeanor changed as she shifted into character. She slyly strutted across the room and
explained. “I told Johnny about Denis. Told him Denis was in the clink and Johnny better have his
books clean. He paid me too.” She stopped, skimming a single finger down Remington’s bare throat
before retrieving the wad of cash from her pocket and shoving it at him.
He frowned again, counting it with hardly a glance. Two thousand. Not bad for an amateur. “You--a
snitch?
“If he buys it, Interpol has their link into his organization.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“If he links Mickey to you--“
“Mickey?”
She shifted out of character and resumed her normal voice as she paced in the living room. “Me. Follow
me on this one. First, if Carlisle manages to connect ‘Mickey’ to ‘Mick O’Leary,’ he won’t wonder why
Mick’s girl is passing information to him. He’ll assume I’m just a snitch using your connections.”
“Second, if Carlisle links Mick O’Leary to Remington Steele, he’s sure to find out what happened to us
and then to O’Callaghan. And if he thinks that you’re capable of bringing down O’Callaghan, he won’t
be interested in crossing you. You’re no longer a streetwise thief; you’re a major player, capable of
pulling in the resources you need to deal with the Six. But we’re going to go home. By sending me in to
pass the tip to Carlisle, you’re letting him know that O’Callaghan’s been dealt with and you’re washing
your hands of the mess.”
Still fuming, Remington tried to find the holes in her logic. “If he does make the connection, Interpol
doesn’t get their link.”
“That’s their problem. I promised you that the Six would leave you alone. Today I had the perfect
opportunity to make good on that promise. Besides, if Interpol can’t trace backwards from
O’Callaghan’s financial records to Carlisle, then they don’t deserve the badges they wear.”
Felicia looked at Laura with new respect for her convoluted and laser sharp logic. “Why’d you pick the
name ‘Mickey'?”
“Mick--Mickey. I’m hoping Carlisle’s smarter than he looks. Plus I told him that a little money makes
sure that I don’t remember anything in the morning.” She shot the other woman a smile. “If he misses
that one, he deserves to have Interpol infiltrate his entire organization from the top down.”
Felicia didn’t even bother to cover her laugh this time.
Laura stopped in front of her husband. “Want to hear the best part?” Remington arched a brow at her.
“Since we warned Johnny about the books, if any financial transactions from O’Callaghan track back to
him, he’ll automatically assume we didn’t have anything to do with it. Especially if we make sure we
stay out of his way until Interpol is finished.”
Felicia started clapping. “Damn, Michael. Maybe I do get what you see in her.” She cocked her head at
Laura and rose from the sofa. “I should be jealous.”
Laura and Felicia stood face-to-face for a moment. Laura’s eyes slid to Remington’s face, then back to
the blonde’s.
Remington was wary, not sure of what was going to happen. “Ah, Laura--” he started to intervene.
But one more time, Laura surprised the hell out of him. She took Felicia’s hands in hers and leaned up
to kiss her cheek. “Thank you, Felicia. You kept him safe. You’re a good friend to him. And you have
my heartfelt thanks for both.”
Felicia hesitated, then nodded, unsure if Laura was playing straight with her. “You’re welcome.”
“I assume you need a place to stay tonight. Feel free to use the second bedroom. As for me, I’m going
to get out of these shoes and ice my knee for a while.” Laura shot Remington a hard look before
ascending the staircase.
“Laura?” he called to her.
“Yes?”
“Why did you come here?”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t stay anywhere else. I wanted to be here when you came home.” Her
voice floated down as she disappeared into the larger of the two rooms upstairs.
Remington exchanged a long look with Felicia and then excused himself to follow Laura.
Felicia shrugged and retrieved her glass of champagne. This night wasn’t turning out quite as she
anticipated, but the entertainment value was an unexpected bonus. She strolled upstairs, curious to know
if Michael was going to grovel or gain the upper hand with Lila.
Laura had changed into casual clothes and was in the process of hanging up the red dress when
Remington leaned against the door frame.
“I suspect I’m supposed to offer an apology, but for the life of me I can’t imagine why,” he stated.
“Neither can I.” She unpinned her hair and began shaking it out with her hands.
“I don’t suppose you’re interested in tendering one either.”
She tossed her head back and sat on the bed. “Not really. Would you have done any differently?”
He eased down beside her and took her hand, noting that her eyes were brown again. “No. But I don’t
have to like it. And Buchanan still has to answer to me.”
“Don’t bother. I made it next to impossible for him to make any other choice. As soon as I caught the
gist of the situation, I knew what I had to do.” Laura leaned back on the bed and propped a pillow under
her sore joint. “How did it go tonight? I mean, I know it worked, but how did it go?”
Remington began massaging her calf and knee. “Ah, quite well. Peterson was persnickety about the way
it went down, but Felicia and I got the job done.”
“Oh, that feels incredible. Persnickety over what?”
“I’d rather have him tell you. I like watching him squirm. By the way, I have a gift for you.”
Her eyes swept down his body suggestively. “Really? And I haven’t even started.” Laughing, he
reached in his pocket and set the raw red diamond on her stomach. Hesitantly, she picked it up and
turned it over in her hands. “It’s incredible. Such a little thing can be at the center of everything. What
are you planning to do with it?”
“That’s up to you.”
“Me? Why me?”
“Because you paid the price for it.”
“I don’t want it.”
“I know.”
“Remington?” She suddenly became serious.
“Yes?”
Laura’s eyes watered. “I want to go home too.”
Remington reached his arm around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. “We’ll go tomorrow, love.”
Felicia was terribly disappointed in Michael. Really, he had turned into a mushy sap over Lola. And
what was that business with the diamond? Nobody had to like the gems, just find a good buyer. She
sulked and threw herself on the bed.
In the morning, Remington rapped on Felicia’s door to wake her while Laura heated water for tea in the
kitchen. She could hear a murmured exchange before her husband joined her.
“Ah, Laura?” She looked up at him. “You haven’t asked why Felicia is here.”
“I imagine it’s because you want to make certain Interpol doesn’t get their hands on her.” Laura eyed
the blonde as she descended the stairs. It really was quite unfair for her to be still so lovely and elegant,
despite the slightly rumpled white dress.
Felicia sashayed into the kitchen and kissed Remington full on the lips. He winced and stepped away.
“Felicia, we have a plane to catch. Feel free to stay as long as you like, lock up when you leave, and, uh,
take the back way out. I’m sure Interpol would love to tail you to your next destination.”
“Be a dear and call a cab for me. I’ll see myself out. Oh, and don’t forget my fee.” She held out a
hand.
Remington winced again and shrugged in apology to Laura as he slipped a folded cashier’s check out of
his jacket pocket. He placed it in Felicia’s hand and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” The woman nodded to Laura. “Lena, it’s been a delight. Keep him on his
toes.” Felicia gracefully climbed the stairs again and disappeared into a tiny closet. Laura slanted a
quizzical look at Remington.
“Ah, hidden roof access. One moment.” Remington dialed for a taxi to pick up Felicia three streets
over. “It’s, ah, always handy to have another way out.”
Laura leaned against the wall, smiling as she held her tea.
Remington put one hand in a pocket and nibbled the thumbnail of the other. “You’re really not angry
with me? Over Felicia being here?”
“I wasn’t aware I had a reason to be upset with you.” Laura sipped her tea calmly. She was having too
much fun watching her husband squirm. “I imagine there are several friends of yours, none of whom
actually need something as mundane as a key, that pop into any number of our residences from time to
time.
Inwardly, Remington flinched. Sometimes there were nuances to marriage he hadn’t figured out. He still
wasn’t sure if he was in deep water.
Laura continued to needle him a little more. “And Felicia? She has excellent taste in men. I can’t fault
her for that.”
“Laura, I promise nothing happened.”
Now she laughed outright. “I know, love.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
“How?”
She tilted her head at him and fired questions at him. “You stayed chaste for how many years? And I’m
to believe that you can’t manage one evening with an old lover? How many times have you turned her
down now?”
“Three.”
“She won’t ask again, you know.”
“Thank God.”
Laura laughed out again and threw her arms around Remington. She looked at the clock, noting that it
was almost time for Peterson to pick them up. “Mr. Steele, just what kind of trouble can we make in ten
minutes?”
“Well, now, Mrs. Steele, perhaps I should show you.”
On Interpol’s airplane, Laura giggled at Peterson’s discomfort while Murphy gleefully spilled the details
of the previous night’s exchange. Brian actually unbent enough toward the end to chuckle. He had to
admit that Steele cleverly arranged the whole operation right under his nose. At least now he understood
how the thief managed to avoid him all those years.
Afterwards, while Laura was telling Murphy and Mildred about the scene with Carlisle, Brian leaned over
to Remington and held out his hand. Tentatively, Steele shook it and arched a brow in query.
“You did well. Extraordinarily well. I know you didn’t do it for Interpol. But thank you, anyway.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Buchanan wants you, you know.”
“Wants me for what?”
“Interpol. He’s wants all three of you to be agents. Your skills, your wife’s brain and Mrs. Krebs magic
fingers would be invaluable here.”
“I won’t put Laura in that kind of danger.”
“Is it any different from being a detective in Los Angeles?”
“Significantly so.”
Peterson tried a different tactic. “Your abilities would be a tremendous asset here. I imagine it would be
more interesting than installing burglar alarms and writing up security contracts.”
“You’ve done your homework.”
“That’s my job.” Peterson leaned back in his seat. “Think about it. Buchanan’s going to make a formal
offer when you get back.”
Remington was uncharacteristically quiet for the remainder of the flight.
Murphy said his goodbyes almost immediately in order to catch his plane back to Denver. “Kate and I
will bring the boys in a couple of weeks. I know she’ll want to see you.”
“Can you handle more of the Steeles that soon?” Laura teased.
“Well, if you put it like that--” He grinned at her and caught her in a tight embrace before holding his
hand out to Steele. Remington took it and was surprised when Murphy pulled him in for a rough man-
hug and a pat on the back. “Brother--let’s not do this again,” Murphy said seriously.
Remington coughed as his breath hitched and he thumped the other man’s back. “Thank you, mate.”
Murphy gave Mildred a kiss on the cheek and Laura one last mock-salute before he ducked into the dark
car that would take him to the airport in Cork.
Buchanan was waiting for Mildred, Remington and Laura when they returned to the house. “Please, all
of you, I’ve got something to discuss before you leave as well.” James waved them into the living room.
Mildred took the armchair while Remington and Laura sat on the couch, hand in hand. Peterson propped
up the wall in the background.
“I must congratulate you three. I’ve had experienced operatives who couldn’t do what you have done
and with little to no preparation. Ms. Krebs, the information you’ve pulled together is enough to begin
legal proceedings against the rest of the Dublin Six for several types of financial fraud.”
“Mrs. Steele, tipping off Carlisle was nothing short of inspired. You and your husband are clear of the
Six and probably with Carlisle’s gratitude. Your insight into the investigation has shed light on a number
of motives that we are pursuing with all possible speed. From what I’ve read about your kidnapping and
escape, along with seeing you in action, I’m very sorry Interpol didn’t snap you up out of college. You
would be an excellent operative.”
“And Mr. Steele. From start to finish, it’s obvious that without your abilities and contacts, none of this
would have been possible. You’ve done whatever was needed to be done, regardless of how difficult it
was, and handled it brilliantly. To make this short, Interpol wants you three in whatever capacity you
would be willing to work.”
“What do you mean?” Mildred asked.
“Agents, trainers, occasional consultants, whatever--we need people like you. We still have to take down
the rest of the Six and we’d like your help. Think about it. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Peterson and Buchanan disappeared while Laura and Mildred both looked at Remington.
“Why are you both staring at me?” he questioned.
Laura brushed his hair out of his eyes before answering, “It’s a chance for you to dust off those rusty
skills of yours and put them to good use.”
He scowled at her. “You’ll pay dearly for that insult.”
She smiled. “Oh, I hope so.”
“What about the agency?”
“Take it off the table for a minute. Would you consider Interpol’s offer?” Steele’s jaw dropped. Laura
giving up her agency? She closed his mouth. “Seriously, is this something you want to do? We’d be in
Europe doing a different kind of detective work, more demanding work that would rely on the things
Daniel taught you.” She looked over at Mildred. “What do you think?”
Mildred shook her head. “Not for me. I’ll travel wherever a case takes me, but I have plenty to do in L.
A. I’m not interested in spending my days teaching a bunch of computer geeks about hacking into a
network.”
Remington turned to Laura. “What about you?”
“I’ll go where you go, Remington. You’ve given me the last six years of your life and on my terms. If I
love you, then I have to let you grab for the golden ring when it’s your turn.”
He leaned in for a kiss. “That’s not the golden ring, Laura. You are. I don’t want to work for Interpol.”
“Why not?”
“For one, honor among thieves and all that. I can’t exactly arrest Felicia, can I? No matter how tempted
I might be. And for two, because I want to be your Remington Steele, because I love what we do. And
because of what we discussed two weeks ago.” Her brown eyes glowed and she gave him a soft smile.
The phone rang. Buchanan reappeared from the kitchen to answer it while the detectives tossed around
ideas. Remington was half-listening to the rapid exchange in French and when the agent hung up the
phone, he put his arm around his wife. As if he was carrying a heavy burden, Buchanan sat on the arm
of the sofa. “I just received word that O’Callaghan was found dead in his jail cell an hour ago. On the
surface, it appears he had a heart attack, but I think it’s safe to say an autopsy will show that he had a
little help.”
Laura let out a sharp breath and bolted from the room with Remington close behind. He cornered her in
the kitchen and she threw her arms around his neck while she shivered. “Shhhh, love. It’s over. He
can’t touch us. Shhh.” Remington's own body trembled with the realization that the nightmare of the
past two weeks was truly finished.
When she calmed, he tipped her chin up. “Let’s go home, Laura.”
* * * * *
They made a deal with Buchanan. While the detectives refused to become agents for the police force,
they hired a succession of Interpol trainees as interns for the agency. Under Remington and Laura’s
tutelage, these students became crack agents with a reputation for getting the job done.
And on the first Monday they were back in the office, an enormous bouquet of five dozen roses was
delivered to Laura. The note read:
- Thanks, Johnny.
Epilogue