Steele Stainless (Part 4)
Date: Thursday, 01 April, 2004
"Kaye Hamrick" <k_hamrick@hotmail.com>

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.)

p.s. If you'd like to see the floor plan I made of the apartment, you can
view it here: http://texaswinters.topcities.com/tbsapartmentfloorplan.doc

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