She slid in and out of shadows with a sureness that made one wonder if she existed or was only a figment of the imagination.  As dawn broke open, the shadows retreated, leaving her to dance between the remaining smudges of darkness as she eased out of the mansion before the owners awakened.

Thrilled with both the escapade and the evidence she’d discovered, Laura Holt skittered out the utility room door and made a dash to the perimeter of the estate.  She scaled the wall, placing her hands and toes on the notches and grooves of the limestone rock.  Mentally, she thanked her partner for his thorough inspection of the security system before he’d left town to install a wholly different one in a museum in San Diego.  He’d patiently walked her through the details of disarming it and rearming it when she was through.

The mission had been flawless from start to finish.  She’d found the evidence, slipped out, made copies, then returned the originals to their place.  Laura was sure she would close the case this afternoon with the information she had in hand.  With an ease that spoke well of her athleticism, she rolled over the top of the wall, clinging to the other side for a brief moment before falling the short distance to the ground.

A small round rock just had to mess up her perfect morning.  It rolled under the ball of her right foot as she landed, forcing the ankle joint into an unnatural twist that snapped the bone with a soft crack of sound.

She didn’t think twice about what to do next.  Muttering curses but damned grateful the car was only a few feet away, Laura hopped to the Rabbit, using the hood as a support to get around the car, and sat heavily in the driver’s seat.  She unlaced her soft shoe before the foot began to swell and eased it off.  She rolled the trouser sock down until she could draw it away as well and then used it to tie a makeshift bandage to hold the ankle in place.

Laura knew all too well that the low throbbing would only get worse and hoped she could manage a left-footed drive to the nearest hospital.  With spurts and jumps, the white car bounced down the road as she figured out how hard to press the brake and gas pedals.

 

Her ankle was securely splinted and bandaged before she had the chance to call Mildred and give her the details.

“Miss Holt!  Are you okay?”

“Yes, Mildred.  It’s a nuisance more than anything.  Has Mr. Steele returned?”

“He called as he was leaving.  He should be back anytime now.”

“Ask him to come by my place, please.  I’ll give him the papers I found, and he can close out this case this afternoon or tomorrow.”

“Certainly, Miss Holt.  Do you need a ride home?”

“I’ll call Fred.”  Laura sighed with a vain wish that Mr. Steele had already returned from San Diego.  “I’ll figure out how to get my car home later.”

“My nephew is coming for a visit this evening.  We’ll take care of that for you.  That way if you need anything, we can bring it to you.”

“Thanks, Mildred.  Call me when you’re on your way.”

 

Fred protested as Miss Holt insisted on navigating the stairs with her crutches by herself; her vehement refusal of help plastered a frown on his face.  He deposited her briefcase in front of her loft, then stationed himself just outside the building door long enough for her to ascend the first half flight of stairs.  He stepped inside to wait quietly, listening for any signs of distress.

Mr. Steele opened the door.  With a slow nod, he acknowledged Miss Holt’s stubbornness and dismissed the loyal chauffer with a clap to the shoulder.  “Thanks, mate.”

“Sir,” he acknowledged before he left.

 

A soft oath helped Remington locate Laura in the middle of the last flight of stairs.  She had both crutches in one hand and was attempting to hop the last few steps to her floor. 

“Miss Holt?” he called quietly so as not to startle her.

She stiffened her spine in surprise anyway but turned so that he could see the frustrated expression etched in her face.  “Mr. Steele.”

He approached her and gave her an appraising once-over.  “Ah, hmm.  Can we agree that you are certainly capable of making it up the last few steps of your own accord, but you'll allow me to offer you assistance anyway?”

She almost smiled and nodded gratefully.  She shifted the crutches and her purse out of the way so Remington could loop an arm around her middle and another under her knees.  Six steps up, he deposited her in front of her door.  Her brow puckered as she dug in her purse and came up with a crisp and shiny key--as if newly cut.  She opened the lock with it and then gave it to him.

“What’s this?” he wondered.

A faint blush touched her cheeks.  “I had it made for you.”

Astonished, he only raised a brow.  “Exactly what kind of drugs did they give you at the pharmacy?”

She rolled her eyes before collapsing on the sofa and carefully setting her ankle on the coffee table.  Remington snagged a throw pillow from the nearest chair and deftly slipped it under her foot.

“Thanks.”  The fatigue in her voice had him giving her a second glance.  But Laura only reached for the briefcase he’d set down near the sofa and rifled through the papers until she found the ones she wanted.  “Here’s the will clearly showing that Jessica is named as the heir to the bulk of the estate.  If you’ll note the date, it supersedes the one Carl has.”

He took the papers and fanned through them.  “It certainly does.”

“Will you meet with her attorney?”

Remington glanced up, taking in her condition.  “Certainly.  Not today though.  I’ll have Mildred set up an appointment for tomorrow.  If her lawyer doesn’t want to meet on a Saturday, we’ll do it Monday.”

“Sounds good to me.”  Laura rested her head on the back of the sofa while he sat on the edge of her delicate desk to use the telephone.  While he spoke to Mildred, he saw Laura reach for her purse.  She drew out a prescription bottle and casually popped a tablet into her mouth, dry-swallowing it before dropping the container back into her purse and laying her head on the cushion again.

“Mmm, yes, Mildred.  Eleven is fine.  … No, I’m at Laura’s place.  … Her car? … Ah, sure, that sounds great.”

He dropped the phone on the cradle after saying goodbye and crossed the loft to sit next to Laura.  She shifted so that her face rested on his chest.  Surprised by her easy touch, he let his fingers drift through her hair.

“How did you turn your ankle, Laura?”

“Oh, it was nothing, really.  I picked up the will early this morning and slipped on a rock as I came over the wall.  Just happened, that’s all.  Your directions for the alarm system worked, by the way.”

“Of course they did.  Did you drive yourself to the hospital?”

The painkillers began to take hold, and Laura’s voice became husky.  She closed her eyes and let her fingers clutch his hand when he brought it up around hers.   “Mmm … yes.  Drove with my left foot.   Izznot easy, y’know.”

“I do.”  Knowing he was taking full advantage of her increasingly drugged state, he asked, “Why did you give me a key to your loft, Laura?”

She wrinkled her nose before answering, “It was time.”  Then her breath evened out as she slid into sleep.