And the next installment, as promised.
K
*************
Steele Stainless (Part 4)
Shortly before three, Laura was sitting
in her office over another file she
hadn't looked at in quite some time. Spread on the desk in front
of her
were the headlines from almost 20 years ago: Steele, Daughter
Kidnapped On
Family Holiday. Steele, Daughter Missing Feared Dead. Kidnappers
Retaliating? Steele's Wife Granting No Interviews Close Friend
Says.
Newspapers on both sides of the Atlantic
had covered the story. Laura
flipped through more clippings: Wife Believes Steele, Daughter
Together.
Irish Police Announce Reward For Information. And those that
had come more
sporadically later: Steele Kidnapping; 5 Years Later. Steele's
Wife Still
Believes Daughter, Husband Alive. 10 Year Anniversary of Steele
Kidnapping
Brings No New Clues.
Laura opened another file to her right.
These clippings were much newer and
of a very different tone: STEELE DAUGHTER FOUND! Steele And Daughter
Return
To America. Steele's Reunited After 19 Years. Steele Granting
No
Interviews. Steele Wife, Daughter To Appear On Oprah.
Laura looked at the clock on her desk
and quickly closed both the files.
Slipping them back into the back of the cabinet in her office,
she hesitated
a moment before knocking on the connecting door. "Are you
ready?"
"Yes, yes. Come in." Remington
rose from the desk, buttoning his coat.
"Send in the troops."
Laura frowned at him, "You're
not going to reenact Patton for us this
afternoon, are you?"
"George C. Scott, Karl Malden, Twentieth Century Fox, 1970."
"Some people don't change."
Laura sighed and opened the door to the lobby.
"They're all in the conference room."
Remington smiled, "We have a conference room?"
"Yes, it's down the hall in the other suite."
"Good Lord, Laura. Are we listed in the Fortune 500 yet?"
"Not quite" Laura was glad
he was behind her and couldn't see her
irrepressible smile. As they entered the conference room, Remington
lapsed
back into Remington Steele. He was almost frightened at the ease
with which
all the old ways came back to him. He took his seat between Laura
and
Miranda. There were four interns he hadn't met and five faces
he didn't
recognize. He eyed the young men at the table and immediately
picked Sean
out of the group.
Laura stood, "As you all know
by now, Mr. Steele has returned from abroad.
He's certainly interested in meeting you all face to face, so
let's go
around the table for introductions first; name, classification,
and major."
She nodded to the young woman sitting to her right.
"I'm Lisa King. Sophomore Biochemistry
major." She said with a good deal of
confidence, pushing her glasses further up on her nose. Remington
noticed
that she was rather tall and that her hair was almost too dark
to be blond
before the next intern spoke.
"Chase Livingston. Junior.
Biochemistry as well." He was, at best,
completely ordinary. Must blend well on a tail. Remington thought.
The next intern, a young man who looked
like he could easily be Murphy
Michael's son spoke, "Alex Porter. Senior. Psychobiology."
He's got
Murphy's attitude as well. Remington thought, Where's a plaid
shirt when
you need one?
The last intern, a small Asian girl
was next, "Jessica Chu. Junior
Chemistry major."
And you're Sean. Remington filled
in just before the last young man spoke.
I thought so. He was larger than anyone else in the room and
had planted
himself next to Miranda.
"Sean Worland." His thick
Australian took Remington somewhat by surprise.
"I'm not an intern; I'm the Persuader." He smirked
and Miranda smiled and
rolled her eyes as he sat down.
Each of the interns as well as Mildred
and Laura covered the cases in
progress and Remington said a few words about "keeping up
the good work," as
instructed. All in all, Laura was pleased. The rest of the day
passed
without incident. Laura was worried about Miranda and Remington
spending
too much time together, but then she realized she'd rather he
was with
Miranda than wandering around Los Angeles unsupervised. She sighed
and
wondered if they could be lucky enough to avoid the press until
the next
evening.
At five Miranda offered to drive Remington
to his hotel to pick up his
overnight bag. "Aunt Millie is using the limo tonight, so
just grab what
you'll need for tomorrow and the benefit. We'll deal with the
rest of your
luggage this weekend" Miranda was brusque as they walked
out into the
parking garage. "I'm sorry, but my trunk is almost non-existent."
"Fine" Remington felt that
he was certainly ready for a hot shower and a
warm bed.
"My car is outside" Miranda smiled at him.
Remington took the bait, "Naturally."
"Notorious" Miranda challenged.
"Alfred Hitchcock."
"Cary Grant."
"Ingrid Bergman."
"1946" they chimed together before laughing.
As they came around the corner of
the parking garage Remington almost had a
heart attack, "You painted it!?" he clutched his chest
in shock.
Miranda smiled and looked at the cherry
red Auburn Roadster, "No. This is a
'35. Yours is a '39 and is still a very vanilla shade of off-white.
I fell
in love with yours the minute I saw it. Mom wouldn't let me have
it. She
said it brought back too many memories, so we found another one
and I had it
painted a much more suitable color. Bring back memories for you,
too?"
"Indeed" Remington eyed the pristine car. "Where's mine?"
"In storage. I guess we'll have to get it out if you plan on staying."
"Mmmmm" Remington replied.
"It must have been difficult to find one in this
kind of condition" he circled the car with appreciation.
"It was a mess when I found it.
I paid $15,000 initially and had to replace
almost all of the body and quite a bit of the interior. Luckily
the engine
was is pretty good condition and I've got a friend who owed me
a favor or
two. He also maintains it for me." They got into the car
and Miranda
started the engine. "I've learned some of the basic maintenance,
but I'd
never be cocky enough to try anything too complicated" she
smirked at
Remington.
"Ah, you know that story, do you?"
"It's one of my favorites. I
did have my friend put all the spare parts
back in yours."
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it" she peeled out of the parking lot and into traffic.
With Remington's overnight and garment
bags in hand, they continued on to
the Steele apartment. "I don't blame Laura for moving"
Remington tried to
make small talk at a traffic light. "That house was certainly
too big for
one person."
"So is this apartment. We picked it out shortly after I came on the scene."
"Pretty affluent neighborhood"
Remington slid his hand appreciatively over
the dash.
"We got it for a good price and
did a lot to it. Mom's really creative with
open spaces."
"So I recall."
"Yeah. I've seen the before
and after pictures of the loft. Awesome place.
Wish I could have seen the real thing. Even though you hated
it."
"The loft was fine. It was the
stairs leading up to the loft that I had
quarrel with."
"You had a beef with legwork of any kind, from what I've heard."
"Just how much have you heard?"
Remington came to a question that he'd been
thinking about all day.
"Oh, she mainly just tells me
the good stuff. How you showed up as an agent
for the South African Government-"
"A special agent" Remington clarified.
"Of course. Some of the stranger
cases--Major Discoine's pretty
interesting."
"Not the word I'd choose."
"I imagine not" Miranda's cell phone rang. "Hello, you're on speaker."
"It's me," Laura's voice came over the line, "where are you?"
"We're about five minutes from home."
"He's with you?"
"Yep."
"Hello, Laura" Remington chirped from his seat.
"Yes, well. I was just calling
because I have a headache so I've taken
something and I'm going to bed early."
"Ok. We'll be quiet coming in. Feel better," Miranda said.
"See you in the morning, sweetheart."
""Night, Laura" Remington answered.
"Not you" Laura growled.
Miranda hung up and looked at Remington
with pity "Honest mistake."
Remington looked straight ahead.
Mercury greeted them at the apartment.
"Really, is it necessary to keep the
horse in the house?" Remington chided as he and the dog eyed
each other.
"That's Mercury. He came with me, too."
"You named your horse after a
felony and your dog after the god of liars,
thieves, and fakes?"
"I thought it was rather appropriate."
"Mmmmm" Remington answered, loosening his tie.
"I think the guest room would
be your best bet
at least for tonight. Would
you like to go straight there, or have a tour of the place first?"
Miranda
dropped her keys on a small table in the entryway.
"Perhaps we could start with the guest room and work our way back out."
"Right this way" Miranda led him down the corridor.
She opened a door near the end of
the hallway and Remington followed her
into a spacious spare bedroom with an adjoining bath complete
with two
chairs and coffee table as well as a garden tub. He set his bags
on the bed
and looked around, "Nice."
"We like it," Miranda smiled.
"The building was a school for the arts, so
we've got these nice hardwood floors and lots of bathrooms and
a stage
upstairs."
"There's a stage in the apartment."
"Wild, huh. You wanna see it?"
"Lead on."
Miranda took him straight up the stairs
to the ballroom and pointed out the
stage. The ballroom was spacious with five fairly large and heavily
draped
windows lining the walls and a fireplace tall enough to stand
in. It
overlooked a terrace with a small swimming pool and assorted lounge
chairs..
Miranda continued to the right and through a heavy curtain
suspended from
the vaulted ceiling. Remington followed her into a room with
a ballet barre
on one wall and mirrors on the other. A large stereo system dominated
the
far corner. They walked back through the ballroom and into the
entryway.
So far, Remington had but one qualm and that was that the only
fireplace in
the entire place was upstairs in the ballroom, though he was pleased
to see
the piano he had given Laura standing near it. Miranda led him
through a
door to the left.
"This is Mom's office. She didn't
decorate one for you but the room next to
it is identical. Apparently you never bring work home?"
Remington
half-smiled and cleared his throat. "It also doubles as
the library."
Indeed, the room was wall-to-wall bookshelves. Laura's desk was
across from
the door and two couches with a square table between them were
only a few
feet away. Remington followed Miranda across the room and through
a door
back to the right into an identical room outfitted as a recreation
area
complete with a billiards table, a long wet bar, a wall of movies,
a poker
table, and a big screen television on wheels. Remington ran his
hand along
the poker table and the edge of the wet bar before going to the
wall of
movies to scan titles. The collection contained many of his own
purchases
and quite a few new ones--he was duly impressed.
"There are more downstairs.
I rotate now and again" Miranda gestured
nonchalantly at the shelf.
Remington selected a title and tucked
it under his arm, "For later," he
continued out the door and back into the entryway.
Miranda pointed out the half bath
to the left and continued into the formal
dining room. The angled wall was fitted with a china cabinet,
the
rectangular table for ten dominated most of the room, and the
long sidebar,
dumbwaiter, and spiral staircase filled the remainder. Miranda
started down
the staircase and Remington followed only to find himself in the
most
miraculous kitchen he had ever seen. His jaw almost dropped.
He walked to
his right around a long island counter with four high stools on
one side and
cabinets all the way around, past the double sink, enormous dishwasher,
restaurant-style refrigerator, and circled the second rectangular
island
which housed two flat-top ranges and matching ovens, a grin slowly
spreading
across his face. The large square table for eight and pass-though
view into
the living room where another big screen television was tucked
in the corner
finished off the picture.
"And I suppose this is all wasted?"
Remington gestured around him at the
kitchen, "Unless you know how to cook?"
"Never really been my thing.
We put it in for you." Miranda smiled and
crossed her arms. "Ready to move on, or do you need a moment?"
"Oh by all means--I can come
back later" Remington followed her into the
living room where a u-shaped sectional couch and rectangular table
faced an
impressive entertainment center.
"Most of the rest of the movies
are down here. And a few books and things.
The stereo is plugged into speakers in every room, and the TV,
of course.
The couch is awesome; almost all the seats have footrests that
come out"
Miranda demonstrated. "There's another half bath down here,
and on to my
room." She breezed through the door and Remington followed
her into a
spacious room. Her bed was raised with a ledge all the way around
and sheer
curtains suspended from the ceiling. The walls were covered in
movie
posters, fine artwork, and small scraps of paper reminding Miranda
to do
something or about something. Across the bed Remington could
see a small
alcove of bookshelves that housed books, the remaining movies,
and CD's as
well as a stereo. Her desk was situated near the shelves and
the bed faced
the wall-length closet. Her bathroom was at the opposite end
of the room
and was equipped with a garden tub/shower combination and a vanity.
As they
moved back toward the door Miranda beamed and grabbed a remote
from the foot
of the hastily made bed, "This is my favorite part, though,"
she pressed a
button and a large screen descended from the ceiling to the left
of the
doorway. She pressed another button and a LCD projector switched
on. "97
inch display, surround sound and," she plopped into one of
the two chairs
that faced the screen and put her feet up on the round ottoman,
"the best
seats in town." Miranda gestured to the other chair and
Remington sat. She
opened the console between the chairs and put the movie in. Seconds
later
the menu for The Maltese Falcon appeared on the screen, bigger
than life.
Miranda looked at him, "Pretty cool, huh?"
Remington cocked a half smile, "Indeed."
When The Maltese Falcon was over,
they watched White Heat and discussed
Miranda's favorite line--"I'd look good in a mink coat.
Honey, you'd look
good in a shower curtain."--before Remington made his way
back up the
hallway to the guest room. He paused at the door to the master
bedroom but
thought better of knocking. Laura had always been difficult enough
when she
was feeling well; even though he wanted to continue the conversation
Miranda
had interrupted in the office earlier, he decided it could wait.
TBC
To Part 5
(Tune in tomorrow for more/ To
be continued/ Finished but not posted yet/
whatever you prefer.)