Steeling a Dream
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
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Steele Holting On
Steeling a Dream
Part 2: Under a Steele Dark Sky
Part 2: Under a Steele Dark Sky
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Steele Holting On
Chapter 3 Small Steps
In the warm sun, the Steeles stretched out in the quiet park a couple of miles from their flat. The sun
streamed through the broad trees, dappling the lawn and the edge of their picnic blanket below. The
remains of their repast were scattered about, and they relaxed in the spring air. Mariah had been right,
Laura thought as she tilted her head back to let the heat caress her throat. The bright light helped to ease
the dark edge of her mood.
Remington didn’t bother restraining himself from leaning over and trailing his hand down the side of her
neck and chasing it with lips pressed to the hollow in front. He laid Laura on the blanket and kissed with
her until they were both flushed and breathing shallowly with desire. A real expression of pleasure
appeared on her face, and she was a little dreamy-eyed as he watched her.
The inevitable mid-afternoon lassitude clutched Laura in its fingers. Drowsy, and feeling loved and
protected with Remington lying next to her, she fell asleep on the blankets with hardly a warning, leaving
him slightly annoyed. How do I talk with her if she naps the moment she’s still? Their earlier
conversation had been stilted before relaxing into the usual ebb and flow they normally enjoyed. He’d
planned to ease into the more serious discussion after lunch but instead tidied their mess before pulling
out his sketchbook. Laura had asked him to bring it along, and now he was glad he did.
A few minutes later he had a drawing of his wife asleep on the blanket. As he put the last touches on it,
the pencil broke. He dug around in his pocket for his knife, and then remembered he’d left it at home on
the bathroom counter. He eyed Laura's purse, knowing she carried a slim penknife. That will do. Some
cautious poking around resulted in finding the small blade in the side pocket along with a long, thin wand
that she’d wrapped in plastic and tucked in the middle. Remington froze as his brain, suddenly mired in
mud for some reason, processed the meaning of the double pink stripe in the window.
He looked over to his wife while a boyish grin spread across his face. At least he knew why she was
sleeping all the time. Still smiling, he trimmed the pencil with a few deft strokes of the knife and added a
handful of details to the sketch of Laura. Then he laid the test on top of the drawing pad and left it on
the blanket where she would see it when she woke.
While she dozed, he let the discovery sink in. A child. A son or a daughter that was his and Laura’s
alone. He tried to envision what the little one would look like and then shrugged because it didn’t matter
to him. The smile faltered when he thought of what he’d overheard this morning. He still couldn’t
imagine Laura needing that kind of professional help and speculated about how long she’d been seeing
Dr. Angelo. With worry creasing his forehead, he watched his wife sleep and contemplated the tiny
spark of life dancing inside her slim body.
Twenty minutes later Laura awakened to see Remington sitting cross-legged near her and looking as if he
had a million dollar lottery ticket. She blinked the sleep from her eyes, leaned on an elbow and ran a
hand through her hair. “What are you so happy about?” He tapped his pencil against the sketchpad and
waited. She saw the white wand and flicked her eyes up to his in surprise and then back down to the
picture.
He’d drawn her lying prone on the blanket with a butterfly dancing above her. One arm was stretched
overhead, and the fingertips of her other hand rested lightly on her stomach. In one corner, he’d signed
and dated it. In the other, he’d written “Laura with Child.”
She didn’t realize she was dripping tears until one plopped onto the corner of the paper. A thumb
touched her cheek and wiped the others away. “Laura?”
“Well, that’s one way to tell you.” She laughed a little as she sat up. “What were you doing in my purse
anyway?”
He held up the pencil and the knife. “Forgot mine at home.”
“Ah. From the enormous smile on your face, I’d guess you’re pleased.”
He pulled her into his lap and buried his face in her neck. “Laura, love, you have no idea.” Emotion
swamped her, and she let out a soft sob before letting the tears flow silently onto his shoulder. They held
each other there in the quiet wooded park. Somehow, he knew this would be her reaction, and it made
him feel better about the wetness in his own eyes. He soothed and rocked her, thinking that he would be
doing this to his own child before long.
“I’m happy; I’m happy. I know I don’t look it, Rei.” She took a shuddering breath and wiped her face.
“Of course, you are. Pregnant women are known for their tears. I don’t know much, but I do know
that at least.” He hugged her to his chest again.
“I’m pregnant,” she stated out of the blue a few minutes later.
“Yes, you are, love.” He stroked her cheek and chin.
“What were we thinking?”
Remington let out a bark of laughter and squeezed her. “Are you telling me that the logical Laura didn’t
think this one through?”
“Let’s just say this looked better on paper.”
“I’m scared too, love. But didn’t you tell me once that we can learn to be parents?”
“And you believed me?”
“I did. I do.”
“I’m a better liar than I thought.” But she said it with a smile and rested her head on his shoulder again.
On the way home Remington insisted on stopping at the bookstore. Laura laughed at the stack he piled
on the counter--everything from baby name and pregnancy books to the La Leche League tome on
breastfeeding. She raised her brow at the last one, but he shrugged and said, “You never know.”
In the car, she dug one of the books out of the bag and began flipping through it. “Something tells me
I’m going to have to work very hard to keep our child from being hung with some sort of cinematic
moniker.”
“Are you telling me that a name from the silver screen isn’t good enough for our offspring?” Remington
down-shifted the Auburn to zip in front of a slow-moving Ford behemoth of some kind.
“Unequivocally.”
“Laura.”
“What?”
He gestured with his hand. “Laura, Gene Teirney, Twentieth Century Fox, 1944. You have your own
starring name. I don’t see the difficulty here.”
“The difficulty being that we are not naming our child anything obvious from the movies.”
“Good Lord, woman, we’ll eliminate two-thirds of that,” he indicated the book, “with one fell swoop.
Besides, what’s wrong with Nick or Nora? Perfectly good names there.”
“We’re detectives, Rei. You don’t think anyone would clue into that and think we’re being ridiculous?”
“Sentimental maybe, but certainly not ridiculous. Remington Steele could never be ridiculous.”
Laura rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Whatever was I thinking?”
The picnic and the trip to the bookstore took far more than the three hours Dr. Angelo had assigned, and
the sun was sitting low in the sky when they pulled into the parking garage of their apartment building.
Remington sent Laura into their bedroom for another nap, and given her stifled yawns in the elevator, she
didn’t argue. “I don’t remember Kate being this tired,” she commented.
“We didn’t see her right away. I remember Murphy making noises about Kate falling asleep at her desk
those first few weeks.”
“I forgot about that.”
“You’re going to have to make use of that sofa in your office this week, love.” He held the foyer door
open and followed her into the living room where she tossed the crutches on the floor and curled up on
the sofa.
“You may be right, Rei.” She laced her fingers with his for a moment and brought his hand in for a kiss
before letting go and sleeping dreamlessly.
By the time she woke, delicious smells wafted through the penthouse. Hungry for the first time in a
week, she made her way into the kitchen with the crutches.
Remington had outdone himself in an hour. Marinated chicken was now simmering with tiny potatoes
and vegetables in a skillet. A spinach salad sat on the table, accompanied by the silver, crystal and china
that they’d eventually selected after their wedding. Laura had found a complete set of art deco silver-
plate tableware in an antique shop while doing legwork one day and hadn’t been able to resist the allure.
Slim and sleek, it paired well with the platinum-edged china they had picked up shortly before their first
Christmas. The Waterford crystal had been Abigail’s wedding gift to them, a nod to their Irish nuptials.
Remington dropped a hand towel on the counter after drying his hands on it and came to her, capturing
her face in his hands and settling his mouth on hers for a lingering kiss. After a moment, he gave in to
impulse and lifted her to the island so she wouldn’t have to balance on the crutches.
“You won’t be able to do that for much longer.”
He shot her a quizzical look. “Laura, even your sister with the twins wasn’t more than a handful at nine
months.” Then he winced. “Oh, Lord, please tell me you’re not carrying two? I can hardly wrap my
head around one being in there.”
Laura’s laughter hung in the air. “I have no idea. They say identical twins aren’t hereditary, but my
maternal great-grandmother was an identical twin too.”
He eyed her middle with a comical raised brow. “Monday morning you’re making an appointment with
the doctor. The sooner--“ he stopped and propped his arms on the counter on either side of her. He
dropped his head down. “Bugger me, Laura, what business do I have being a father?”
She tipped his chin back up. “Rei, you’ll be the kind of father you wanted to have.”
“I’m a bloody con artist and thief.”
“You’re a survivor and my husband. Besides, you’ll be in charge of making lunches for school.”
Remington brought his arms up to embrace her. Her arms surrounded him, and she threaded her fingers
through the waves in his hair. When he pulled back to kiss her cheek, her unwavering confidence in him
gave him hope. “How do you always find the things to say that make everything right, Laura?”
She shrugged. “Same way you do, I suppose. You know me better than anyone.”
“I do, don’t I?” Now he gave her a lascivious perusal. “And in another month or two, everyone in the
world will know it.”
Instead of looking comically affronted as he'd expected, Laura bit her lip in chagrin and looked down at
her still-flat tummy. “I’m not going to look this good again for a while.”
“Good Lord, Laura, I could hardly keep my eyes off Kate when she was carrying, and she’s only my
sister-in-law. If you’ll remember, Murphy bopped me on the head a time or two for staring. Do you
honestly think I won’t find you extraordinarily lovely while you carry our child?”
Not sure if his glib tongue was feeding her a slick lie she wanted to hear or telling her the truth, she still
felt relieved. “I’m going to hold you to that, Mr. Steele.”
“Steele’s word is his bond, remember?”
“I do.” She shifted so that her arms were around his neck. “And at the risk of sounding banal, I’m …
we’re hungry,” she said with a smile.
Remington’s whole heart lifted as he eased her off the counter and held her in a long, tight hug. It was
the first time since arriving back in Los Angeles that he honestly believed their life would be good again.
*****
On Monday, Remington hovered over Laura in her office while she made an appointment with an
obstetrician for the following morning. On account of her knee injury, she’d been able to squeeze into
the doctor’s busy schedule a day or two earlier than usual.
Mildred knew something was up with her kids. The pair arrived at eight-thirty on the dot, and their
smiles lit up the office as they breezed through. Well, as much as anyone on a pair of crutches could
breeze through anywhere. Since her habit was to keep the door to her office wide open unless she had a
client, she noted the comings and goings of each person in the agency.
She was years past the point of being just an employee and had no qualms about following Mr. Steele
into his office moments after he'd picked up his stack of files from Ian. He was hanging his coat across
the back of his chair when she came in and shut the door.
“Sure have a bright smile on your face today, Boss.” Long ago the private investigator had figured out
that Mr. Steele was the easier mark when it came to prying information out of the couple. He was
helpless to the “mom” look she’d perfected while on the IRS fraud squad. Only now she used it for real.
“Do I?” He felt conspicuous--as if the whole world could read his thoughts and emotions right now.
“Considering the hang-dog expressions around here last week, I could use a little good news.” She
crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows while she waited.
He glanced at the open connecting door and made a sudden decision. “Laura?”
“Hmmm?”
“Do you have a moment?”
“Of course.”
Remington held his hand out for Mildred to precede him into Laura’s office. The older woman took a
seat and eyeballed the two of them. Taking in his proud smile and her slight blush, it took only a
moment. She covered her cheeks with her hands. “Are you--”
Laura nodded, and Mildred practically flew around the desk to give the pair hugs of joy. She dashed
away tears as Remington held out his handkerchief. “Oh my, this is wonderful! When did you find out?”
With a wry look at Remington, Laura answered, “We’ve suspected for a week but found out for certain
on Saturday. We’ve got our first appointment tomorrow with the obstetrician.”
Mildred cocked her head at the couple and put her hands on her hips, hankie dangling from one hand.
She gave them both a narrow-eyed look. “This wasn’t an accident either.”
For perhaps the first time in his thirty-five years, Remington flushed. “Ah, no. It wasn’t.”
Laura tossed her head back and laughed at his discomfiture. “Rei, why don’t you get some tea, and I
can fill in Mildred on exactly how we decided it was time.”
Turning an even darker shade of red, he bolted. As he pulled the door closed, he heard his traitorous
wife as she recounted, “When we got to Ireland, Mr. Steele lifted my pills and hid them in his suitca--”
He shut the door firmly and proceeded to splash cold water on his face before anyone could discover his
utter mortification.
After the laughter quit echoing around Laura’s office, she did ask Mildred to keep the news to herself. “I
want to wait a while. Mr. Steele and I need to work out how we are going to make changes in the
agency. I’m sure some of them will be temporary, but others will probably be permanent.”
“Any ideas yet as to what they might be?”
“Some, but give me a few days. I suspect Mr. Steele will have a few thoughts too.”
And did he! For starters, Remington spent the entire morning researching and making plans to upgrade
the technology used in the agency. At lunch he disappeared, returning afterward with shopping bags and
calling for a staff meeting in his office.
Ian forwarded the telephones to the answering service and took a seat in one of the chairs he moved
from in front of the desk. Laura and Mildred took up the sofa while Kaleb and Sandra flanked them in
the armchairs. Mr. Steele passed out small black squares to each of them.
It was a running joke in the agency that Mr. Steele was the first to adopt any new technology--as long as
it didn’t involve a computer--and Mrs. Steele was the last. It had taken Mildred years to convince Laura
to put the case files into the computer, and the latter still insisted on having paper backups.
Remington was steadily changing all that. Since his wife had made him an equal partner in the agency a
year ago, he’d set out to capitalize on the rapidly evolving technology that would make their jobs easier
and safer. New listening devices, smaller cameras, even better disguises were all a part of their growing
arsenal. Installing the phone in the Rabbit had actually occurred shortly after their marriage, and since
Laura now drove the Lexus, the aging VW was used by whoever needed it in the agency. For a
nondescript car in a stakeout, it was still an excellent choice, and the telephone had come in handy more
than once.
“Pagers?” Laura asked.
“Pagers. I want all of us to be able to get a message to one another when necessary. I’m looking into
cellular phone technology, but for the moment, the telephones in the cars will do. What is out there right
now is too bulky to discretely carry on your person, so it would be left in the car anyhow.”
Next, he withdrew what looked like a reduced version of a Sony Walkman from the bag along with a
remarkably small earpiece. Each person received one of those as well. “This is a short range radio,
small and light enough to be worn under your clothing. With this, you can communicate with your
partner up to approximately two miles away. These are made to automatically change frequencies
together every couple of minutes to foil anyone listening in. I’ve already set them up to scroll through
seven different channels, and I’ll give you the list and the order for reference. I expect each of you to
keep this handy. If you get into a jam, keep your wire with you, and we’ll be able to find you as long as
we know approximately where you are.”
He added with a wide grin. “Have fun playing, and let’s figure out how we can make the best use of our
new toys.” Kaleb returned his grin and immediately put his head together with Ian to connect their new
wires. Mildred eyed her pager with relish while Laura stared hers into submission. Sandra simply
clipped hers to her belt and competently set up the wire faster than either of the younger men.
As the crew disbursed with toys and lists of phone numbers to memorize, Laura stayed on the sofa and
waited for Mildred to close the door. Quizzically, she waited.
Expecting annoyance from her, Remington tried for honesty. “I need to know that you can get in touch
with me no matter where either of us might be. This isn’t so I can keep track of you, Laura. This is for
me. I expect as things … develop,” he twitched his eyebrows at her, “you’ll be in the office more. I
want you to be able to reach me whenever you need.”
“And the rest of the team?”
“It will get them used to staying in contact with each other.” Now he waited. He hadn’t discussed any
of this with her, and he anticipated her anger, not because she disagreed but because they normally made
decisions affecting the agency as a team. But he had an insatiable urge to do something that would
protect Laura without stifling her independence.
“All right.” She sighed and rose, clipping her pager to her slacks as she balanced on the crutches and
then moved to perch on the corner of his desk. “Show me how the wires are different from what we’ve
been using.”
He clipped the unit to the back of her slacks as well and ran the thin cord through her shirt. “You can
use this with or without the earpiece. If you don’t use it, it will become a simple, hidden microphone that
your partner can monitor. With the earpiece, you’ll have full two-way communication.” Out of habit, he
pressed his lips to her cheek as he settled the pieces in place.
“I can think of a few situations where something like this could have been very handy.”
“Yes. The incident with the Palace of Heaven comes to mind; Platinum Air is another.”
They spent another twenty minutes testing the equipment until Laura could set and adjust it behind her
back or with her eyes closed. In the meantime, she made contact with the others in the office as they
played with their own sets. The last thing any of them needed was to be fumbling with equipment while
undercover.
“All right then,” she repeated when she was comfortable. “I’ve got a couple of contracts to finish out,
and then I’m off to therapy.”
Remington scowled as she disconnected the wire and wrapped it into a neat coil. “Laura, you’re not
going to give me grief over this?”
“No. You’re quite right. Changes will have to be made, and this is an excellent start. Really, we should
have had pagers years ago. And the wires are much better than anything we've had.” She returned the
kiss to his cheek and made her way back to her own office.
He stared at her back, wondering where he went wrong.
Chapter Four--Healing
In the warm sun, the Steeles stretched out in the quiet park a couple of miles from their flat. The sun
streamed through the broad trees, dappling the lawn and the edge of their picnic blanket below. The
remains of their repast were scattered about, and they relaxed in the spring air. Mariah had been right,
Laura thought as she tilted her head back to let the heat caress her throat. The bright light helped to ease
the dark edge of her mood.
Remington didn’t bother restraining himself from leaning over and trailing his hand down the side of her
neck and chasing it with lips pressed to the hollow in front. He laid Laura on the blanket and kissed with
her until they were both flushed and breathing shallowly with desire. A real expression of pleasure
appeared on her face, and she was a little dreamy-eyed as he watched her.
The inevitable mid-afternoon lassitude clutched Laura in its fingers. Drowsy, and feeling loved and
protected with Remington lying next to her, she fell asleep on the blankets with hardly a warning, leaving
him slightly annoyed. How do I talk with her if she naps the moment she’s still? Their earlier
conversation had been stilted before relaxing into the usual ebb and flow they normally enjoyed. He’d
planned to ease into the more serious discussion after lunch but instead tidied their mess before pulling
out his sketchbook. Laura had asked him to bring it along, and now he was glad he did.
A few minutes later he had a drawing of his wife asleep on the blanket. As he put the last touches on it,
the pencil broke. He dug around in his pocket for his knife, and then remembered he’d left it at home on
the bathroom counter. He eyed Laura's purse, knowing she carried a slim penknife. That will do. Some
cautious poking around resulted in finding the small blade in the side pocket along with a long, thin wand
that she’d wrapped in plastic and tucked in the middle. Remington froze as his brain, suddenly mired in
mud for some reason, processed the meaning of the double pink stripe in the window.
He looked over to his wife while a boyish grin spread across his face. At least he knew why she was
sleeping all the time. Still smiling, he trimmed the pencil with a few deft strokes of the knife and added a
handful of details to the sketch of Laura. Then he laid the test on top of the drawing pad and left it on
the blanket where she would see it when she woke.
While she dozed, he let the discovery sink in. A child. A son or a daughter that was his and Laura’s
alone. He tried to envision what the little one would look like and then shrugged because it didn’t matter
to him. The smile faltered when he thought of what he’d overheard this morning. He still couldn’t
imagine Laura needing that kind of professional help and speculated about how long she’d been seeing
Dr. Angelo. With worry creasing his forehead, he watched his wife sleep and contemplated the tiny
spark of life dancing inside her slim body.
Twenty minutes later Laura awakened to see Remington sitting cross-legged near her and looking as if he
had a million dollar lottery ticket. She blinked the sleep from her eyes, leaned on an elbow and ran a
hand through her hair. “What are you so happy about?” He tapped his pencil against the sketchpad and
waited. She saw the white wand and flicked her eyes up to his in surprise and then back down to the
picture.
He’d drawn her lying prone on the blanket with a butterfly dancing above her. One arm was stretched
overhead, and the fingertips of her other hand rested lightly on her stomach. In one corner, he’d signed
and dated it. In the other, he’d written “Laura with Child.”
She didn’t realize she was dripping tears until one plopped onto the corner of the paper. A thumb
touched her cheek and wiped the others away. “Laura?”
“Well, that’s one way to tell you.” She laughed a little as she sat up. “What were you doing in my purse
anyway?”
He held up the pencil and the knife. “Forgot mine at home.”
“Ah. From the enormous smile on your face, I’d guess you’re pleased.”
He pulled her into his lap and buried his face in her neck. “Laura, love, you have no idea.” Emotion
swamped her, and she let out a soft sob before letting the tears flow silently onto his shoulder. They held
each other there in the quiet wooded park. Somehow, he knew this would be her reaction, and it made
him feel better about the wetness in his own eyes. He soothed and rocked her, thinking that he would be
doing this to his own child before long.
“I’m happy; I’m happy. I know I don’t look it, Rei.” She took a shuddering breath and wiped her face.
“Of course, you are. Pregnant women are known for their tears. I don’t know much, but I do know
that at least.” He hugged her to his chest again.
“I’m pregnant,” she stated out of the blue a few minutes later.
“Yes, you are, love.” He stroked her cheek and chin.
“What were we thinking?”
Remington let out a bark of laughter and squeezed her. “Are you telling me that the logical Laura didn’t
think this one through?”
“Let’s just say this looked better on paper.”
“I’m scared too, love. But didn’t you tell me once that we can learn to be parents?”
“And you believed me?”
“I did. I do.”
“I’m a better liar than I thought.” But she said it with a smile and rested her head on his shoulder again.
On the way home Remington insisted on stopping at the bookstore. Laura laughed at the stack he piled
on the counter--everything from baby name and pregnancy books to the La Leche League tome on
breastfeeding. She raised her brow at the last one, but he shrugged and said, “You never know.”
In the car, she dug one of the books out of the bag and began flipping through it. “Something tells me
I’m going to have to work very hard to keep our child from being hung with some sort of cinematic
moniker.”
“Are you telling me that a name from the silver screen isn’t good enough for our offspring?” Remington
down-shifted the Auburn to zip in front of a slow-moving Ford behemoth of some kind.
“Unequivocally.”
“Laura.”
“What?”
He gestured with his hand. “Laura, Gene Teirney, Twentieth Century Fox, 1944. You have your own
starring name. I don’t see the difficulty here.”
“The difficulty being that we are not naming our child anything obvious from the movies.”
“Good Lord, woman, we’ll eliminate two-thirds of that,” he indicated the book, “with one fell swoop.
Besides, what’s wrong with Nick or Nora? Perfectly good names there.”
“We’re detectives, Rei. You don’t think anyone would clue into that and think we’re being ridiculous?”
“Sentimental maybe, but certainly not ridiculous. Remington Steele could never be ridiculous.”
Laura rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Whatever was I thinking?”
The picnic and the trip to the bookstore took far more than the three hours Dr. Angelo had assigned, and
the sun was sitting low in the sky when they pulled into the parking garage of their apartment building.
Remington sent Laura into their bedroom for another nap, and given her stifled yawns in the elevator, she
didn’t argue. “I don’t remember Kate being this tired,” she commented.
“We didn’t see her right away. I remember Murphy making noises about Kate falling asleep at her desk
those first few weeks.”
“I forgot about that.”
“You’re going to have to make use of that sofa in your office this week, love.” He held the foyer door
open and followed her into the living room where she tossed the crutches on the floor and curled up on
the sofa.
“You may be right, Rei.” She laced her fingers with his for a moment and brought his hand in for a kiss
before letting go and sleeping dreamlessly.
By the time she woke, delicious smells wafted through the penthouse. Hungry for the first time in a
week, she made her way into the kitchen with the crutches.
Remington had outdone himself in an hour. Marinated chicken was now simmering with tiny potatoes
and vegetables in a skillet. A spinach salad sat on the table, accompanied by the silver, crystal and china
that they’d eventually selected after their wedding. Laura had found a complete set of art deco silver-
plate tableware in an antique shop while doing legwork one day and hadn’t been able to resist the allure.
Slim and sleek, it paired well with the platinum-edged china they had picked up shortly before their first
Christmas. The Waterford crystal had been Abigail’s wedding gift to them, a nod to their Irish nuptials.
Remington dropped a hand towel on the counter after drying his hands on it and came to her, capturing
her face in his hands and settling his mouth on hers for a lingering kiss. After a moment, he gave in to
impulse and lifted her to the island so she wouldn’t have to balance on the crutches.
“You won’t be able to do that for much longer.”
He shot her a quizzical look. “Laura, even your sister with the twins wasn’t more than a handful at nine
months.” Then he winced. “Oh, Lord, please tell me you’re not carrying two? I can hardly wrap my
head around one being in there.”
Laura’s laughter hung in the air. “I have no idea. They say identical twins aren’t hereditary, but my
maternal great-grandmother was an identical twin too.”
He eyed her middle with a comical raised brow. “Monday morning you’re making an appointment with
the doctor. The sooner--“ he stopped and propped his arms on the counter on either side of her. He
dropped his head down. “Bugger me, Laura, what business do I have being a father?”
She tipped his chin back up. “Rei, you’ll be the kind of father you wanted to have.”
“I’m a bloody con artist and thief.”
“You’re a survivor and my husband. Besides, you’ll be in charge of making lunches for school.”
Remington brought his arms up to embrace her. Her arms surrounded him, and she threaded her fingers
through the waves in his hair. When he pulled back to kiss her cheek, her unwavering confidence in him
gave him hope. “How do you always find the things to say that make everything right, Laura?”
She shrugged. “Same way you do, I suppose. You know me better than anyone.”
“I do, don’t I?” Now he gave her a lascivious perusal. “And in another month or two, everyone in the
world will know it.”
Instead of looking comically affronted as he'd expected, Laura bit her lip in chagrin and looked down at
her still-flat tummy. “I’m not going to look this good again for a while.”
“Good Lord, Laura, I could hardly keep my eyes off Kate when she was carrying, and she’s only my
sister-in-law. If you’ll remember, Murphy bopped me on the head a time or two for staring. Do you
honestly think I won’t find you extraordinarily lovely while you carry our child?”
Not sure if his glib tongue was feeding her a slick lie she wanted to hear or telling her the truth, she still
felt relieved. “I’m going to hold you to that, Mr. Steele.”
“Steele’s word is his bond, remember?”
“I do.” She shifted so that her arms were around his neck. “And at the risk of sounding banal, I’m …
we’re hungry,” she said with a smile.
Remington’s whole heart lifted as he eased her off the counter and held her in a long, tight hug. It was
the first time since arriving back in Los Angeles that he honestly believed their life would be good again.
*****
On Monday, Remington hovered over Laura in her office while she made an appointment with an
obstetrician for the following morning. On account of her knee injury, she’d been able to squeeze into
the doctor’s busy schedule a day or two earlier than usual.
Mildred knew something was up with her kids. The pair arrived at eight-thirty on the dot, and their
smiles lit up the office as they breezed through. Well, as much as anyone on a pair of crutches could
breeze through anywhere. Since her habit was to keep the door to her office wide open unless she had a
client, she noted the comings and goings of each person in the agency.
She was years past the point of being just an employee and had no qualms about following Mr. Steele
into his office moments after he'd picked up his stack of files from Ian. He was hanging his coat across
the back of his chair when she came in and shut the door.
“Sure have a bright smile on your face today, Boss.” Long ago the private investigator had figured out
that Mr. Steele was the easier mark when it came to prying information out of the couple. He was
helpless to the “mom” look she’d perfected while on the IRS fraud squad. Only now she used it for real.
“Do I?” He felt conspicuous--as if the whole world could read his thoughts and emotions right now.
“Considering the hang-dog expressions around here last week, I could use a little good news.” She
crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows while she waited.
He glanced at the open connecting door and made a sudden decision. “Laura?”
“Hmmm?”
“Do you have a moment?”
“Of course.”
Remington held his hand out for Mildred to precede him into Laura’s office. The older woman took a
seat and eyeballed the two of them. Taking in his proud smile and her slight blush, it took only a
moment. She covered her cheeks with her hands. “Are you--”
Laura nodded, and Mildred practically flew around the desk to give the pair hugs of joy. She dashed
away tears as Remington held out his handkerchief. “Oh my, this is wonderful! When did you find out?”
With a wry look at Remington, Laura answered, “We’ve suspected for a week but found out for certain
on Saturday. We’ve got our first appointment tomorrow with the obstetrician.”
Mildred cocked her head at the couple and put her hands on her hips, hankie dangling from one hand.
She gave them both a narrow-eyed look. “This wasn’t an accident either.”
For perhaps the first time in his thirty-five years, Remington flushed. “Ah, no. It wasn’t.”
Laura tossed her head back and laughed at his discomfiture. “Rei, why don’t you get some tea, and I
can fill in Mildred on exactly how we decided it was time.”
Turning an even darker shade of red, he bolted. As he pulled the door closed, he heard his traitorous
wife as she recounted, “When we got to Ireland, Mr. Steele lifted my pills and hid them in his suitca--”
He shut the door firmly and proceeded to splash cold water on his face before anyone could discover his
utter mortification.
After the laughter quit echoing around Laura’s office, she did ask Mildred to keep the news to herself. “I
want to wait a while. Mr. Steele and I need to work out how we are going to make changes in the
agency. I’m sure some of them will be temporary, but others will probably be permanent.”
“Any ideas yet as to what they might be?”
“Some, but give me a few days. I suspect Mr. Steele will have a few thoughts too.”
And did he! For starters, Remington spent the entire morning researching and making plans to upgrade
the technology used in the agency. At lunch he disappeared, returning afterward with shopping bags and
calling for a staff meeting in his office.
Ian forwarded the telephones to the answering service and took a seat in one of the chairs he moved
from in front of the desk. Laura and Mildred took up the sofa while Kaleb and Sandra flanked them in
the armchairs. Mr. Steele passed out small black squares to each of them.
It was a running joke in the agency that Mr. Steele was the first to adopt any new technology--as long as
it didn’t involve a computer--and Mrs. Steele was the last. It had taken Mildred years to convince Laura
to put the case files into the computer, and the latter still insisted on having paper backups.
Remington was steadily changing all that. Since his wife had made him an equal partner in the agency a
year ago, he’d set out to capitalize on the rapidly evolving technology that would make their jobs easier
and safer. New listening devices, smaller cameras, even better disguises were all a part of their growing
arsenal. Installing the phone in the Rabbit had actually occurred shortly after their marriage, and since
Laura now drove the Lexus, the aging VW was used by whoever needed it in the agency. For a
nondescript car in a stakeout, it was still an excellent choice, and the telephone had come in handy more
than once.
“Pagers?” Laura asked.
“Pagers. I want all of us to be able to get a message to one another when necessary. I’m looking into
cellular phone technology, but for the moment, the telephones in the cars will do. What is out there right
now is too bulky to discretely carry on your person, so it would be left in the car anyhow.”
Next, he withdrew what looked like a reduced version of a Sony Walkman from the bag along with a
remarkably small earpiece. Each person received one of those as well. “This is a short range radio,
small and light enough to be worn under your clothing. With this, you can communicate with your
partner up to approximately two miles away. These are made to automatically change frequencies
together every couple of minutes to foil anyone listening in. I’ve already set them up to scroll through
seven different channels, and I’ll give you the list and the order for reference. I expect each of you to
keep this handy. If you get into a jam, keep your wire with you, and we’ll be able to find you as long as
we know approximately where you are.”
He added with a wide grin. “Have fun playing, and let’s figure out how we can make the best use of our
new toys.” Kaleb returned his grin and immediately put his head together with Ian to connect their new
wires. Mildred eyed her pager with relish while Laura stared hers into submission. Sandra simply
clipped hers to her belt and competently set up the wire faster than either of the younger men.
As the crew disbursed with toys and lists of phone numbers to memorize, Laura stayed on the sofa and
waited for Mildred to close the door. Quizzically, she waited.
Expecting annoyance from her, Remington tried for honesty. “I need to know that you can get in touch
with me no matter where either of us might be. This isn’t so I can keep track of you, Laura. This is for
me. I expect as things … develop,” he twitched his eyebrows at her, “you’ll be in the office more. I
want you to be able to reach me whenever you need.”
“And the rest of the team?”
“It will get them used to staying in contact with each other.” Now he waited. He hadn’t discussed any
of this with her, and he anticipated her anger, not because she disagreed but because they normally made
decisions affecting the agency as a team. But he had an insatiable urge to do something that would
protect Laura without stifling her independence.
“All right.” She sighed and rose, clipping her pager to her slacks as she balanced on the crutches and
then moved to perch on the corner of his desk. “Show me how the wires are different from what we’ve
been using.”
He clipped the unit to the back of her slacks as well and ran the thin cord through her shirt. “You can
use this with or without the earpiece. If you don’t use it, it will become a simple, hidden microphone that
your partner can monitor. With the earpiece, you’ll have full two-way communication.” Out of habit, he
pressed his lips to her cheek as he settled the pieces in place.
“I can think of a few situations where something like this could have been very handy.”
“Yes. The incident with the Palace of Heaven comes to mind; Platinum Air is another.”
They spent another twenty minutes testing the equipment until Laura could set and adjust it behind her
back or with her eyes closed. In the meantime, she made contact with the others in the office as they
played with their own sets. The last thing any of them needed was to be fumbling with equipment while
undercover.
“All right then,” she repeated when she was comfortable. “I’ve got a couple of contracts to finish out,
and then I’m off to therapy.”
Remington scowled as she disconnected the wire and wrapped it into a neat coil. “Laura, you’re not
going to give me grief over this?”
“No. You’re quite right. Changes will have to be made, and this is an excellent start. Really, we should
have had pagers years ago. And the wires are much better than anything we've had.” She returned the
kiss to his cheek and made her way back to her own office.
He stared at her back, wondering where he went wrong.
Chapter Four--Healing