Steele Trying to Get it Right Part 3
Date: Thursday, August 01, 2002

Lydia Bell <lydia@spamcop.net>

Steele Trying to Get It Right
Part III
by Lydia Bell

Laura felt a miniscule pang about breaking her promise to stay in the
car, but she couldn't bear to sit around doing nothing. She reached in her
purse and brought out the Agency gun. Much as she hated to "pack a rod"
(as Remington had so cinematically referred to it when they first met),
she knew that in her advanced state of pregnancy, she simply couldn't run
or fight as well as she was accustomed to. She gripped the once-disdained weapon and crept toward the warehouse.

She had taken only a few steps when she heard shouting from across the
court. Cursing her awkward gait, Laura ran toward the upraised voices.
She reached the corner nearest the sound of the fight and rounded it, gun
first.

It was dark, but she could see that Remington and Fred were engaged in a
tussle with a short, stocky man dressed all in black. Mildred remained
off to one side, hollering encouragement.

"What is going on here?" Laura demanded.

Short-and-Stocky whirled toward her, saw the gun, and backed away with
his hands in the air. "Hey, lady, take it easy, this is my place."

"Laura?"

"Wait a second ... Steele?" The assailant turned toward Remington.
"This your wife?"

"Hapgood." Remington and Laura declared in unison. Laura lowered her
gun, but continued to watch their client warily.

"So who's this guy?" Hapgood gestured toward Fred.

"He's the agency's chauffeur," Mildred explained. Fred did his best to
look simultaneously menacing and harmless, as he was not yet certain
which attitude the situation called for.

"Oh. Hey, I'm sorry about jumping on you like that, buddy. I saw some
stranger sneaking around out here, and ... well, we've been having some
trouble lately. Which is of course why I hired your boss, here."

"I understand completely, sir."

"You all right?" Hapgood inquired.

"Perfectly fine, sir."

"Fred, Laura," Remington interrupted, running his hands through his hair
in exasperation. "I don't mean to sound unwelcoming, but precisely what
are you doing here? Laura, you know you should be resting, not running
around on stakeouts putting a strain on yourself!"

Unsure that she could trust Hapgood, Laura shot a nervous glance at Fred
and fumbled for a cover story. "Ah, that's just it. See, I was home in
bed, and I started feeling ... well, at first I thought they were just
cramps, but I think they must have been contractions, because they kept
coming, so I called Fred to ask him to take me to the hospital, but first
I wanted to come and find you." 'Fantastic,' she thought, 'now all I
have to do is figure out how to fake some contractions if Hapgood gets
suspicious.'

"Oh, good Lord. Are you all right? Are you in labor right now? How far
apart are they? You're not due for weeks yet." Remington's demeanor
changed instantly to one of frantic concern. He rushed to her side and
took her hand, placing his other hand on her belly. Laura felt a wave of
affection wash over her, but firmly told herself that this wasn't the
time.

"I'm fine. They're still far apart, so we should have plenty of time
yet. I'm terribly sorry about the stakeout, Mr. Hapgood. I know this must
seem completely unprofessional, but ... it's our first baby, and we just
aren't sure what to expect." She flashed what she hoped was a suitably
ingratiating smile at their client.

"Say no more. I don't think they're coming back tonight anyway. Steele,
I'll call your office tomorrow and make arrangements for our security in
your absence. Perhaps Miss Krebs could take over?"

Mildred started to pipe up with, "Sure!" but Remington responded
distractedly, "Yes, yes, we'll have to work something out. Shall we?"
The last was directed to Laura, whom he'd never taken his eyes off of.

"Yes, we should go. Good night, Mr. Hapgood."

"Good night. Good luck, Mrs. Steele. Mr. Steele." Hapgood nodded
toward them and headed for the parking lot. As soon as he turned away, Mildred rushed over to Laura.

"Oh, honey, I'm so excited! How long do you think it's going to be?
Do I have time to go home and get my camera? I want to get plenty of pictures of the baby! Oh, and I have a present for him too ... or her ..."

"Mildred," Laura interrupted. "I think the best thing for you to do is
just take the Auburn and follow us."

"Oh, of course. I'll see you at the hospital." Neither Laura nor Fred
bothered correcting her. Meanwhile, Remington was clearly anxious to get
his wife and child out of there, so they all hurried to their respective
cars.

As soon as they'd settled into the limo, Laura turned to her husband and
drew him into a tight, fierce embrace. "I'm so glad to see you," she
whispered.

"Laura, are you all right?"

"I'm fine." She couldn't disguise the quaver in her voice, however.

Worried, Remington called to the driver, "Mercy Hospital, Fred. And
don't mind the lights."

"Fred," Laura corrected, "take us home, please."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Laura, what on earth..."

"I'm not in labor. I'm not having contractions."

Remington frowned. "I don't understand."

They rode back to Rossmore, with Laura recounting the call she'd gotten
earlier that night. As she talked, she nestled against Remington,
contentedly leaning her head on his shoulder. "... So of course," she
concluded, "I called Fred and we rushed to the warehouse to make sure you
and Mildred were OK."

"And you think Hapgood may be part of this trap?"

"Well, it stands to reason. He's the one who hired us. He's the one who
got the two of you out there tonight. I didn't want to let him know that
we'd been tipped off, just in case. So I made up that story about the
contractions."

"Good thinking -- even if you did scare a few months off of my life."
Remington grinned and tightened his arm around her.

Laura poked him in the side. "You know, some day soon I really will be
in labor. You're going to need to be able to cope."

"Yes, I just hope that when it happens, we're not at a warehouse in the
middle of a night with you holding a gun on someone who's attacking me
and Fred."

"Not nearly as much as I do."

"A fair point. So. Any idea who called you?"

"I -- you know, the voice sounded vaguely familiar, but then it was kind
of nondescript. I felt like I *should* recognize him, but I didn't."

"We'll work on that in the morning. Right now, I think we should get you
home and into bed."

Laura was just then emitting an enormous yawn, which she punctuated
with a giggle. "What was your first clue?"

"Laura, you forget that I'm a world-famous detective. I can tell these
things."

A few moments later, they pulled up in front of their building.
Remington agreed to wait outside for Mildred and explain this latest
twist; Laura hadn't used the bathroom in over two hours and urgently
needed to get upstairs. She impatiently endured the ten-second elevator
ride, and practically launched herself down the hall to their apartment
when the doors open. She fumbled briefly in her purse for the key. She
had just slipped it into the lock when she heard a sound...

tbc

To Part 4

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