Steele Trying to Get it Right Part 8

Steele Trying to Get it Right Part 8Date: Monday, December 23, 2002
<mpbledsoe@yahoo.com> and <klady42@hotmail.com> Sorry it was late, but RL intruded big time. Thanks Nancy for vetting this extended chapter Steele Trying to Get It Right Part VIII By Michael Bledsoe and Ellen Wilkerson mpbledsoe@yahoo.com and klady42@hotmail.com Editor's note: This story is not part of Debra Talley's "Brendan Universe" series of RS fanfic. "Thank you, Dr. Kendall," Steele said as he shook the man's hand. He knew that the kidnapping had not actually been related to the doctor, but he unreasonably wanted to shake the man's throat, instead of his hand. There seemed to be unforeseen reactions built into this parent thing. Soon they were exiting the doctor's office and entering the black Cadillac limo. The child seat was carefully strapped into the middle of the limo's back seat. Laura walked slowly and carefully, the episiotomy had left her lower anatomy tender. Steele carried Brendan and the diaper bag. Idly he thought about how the gaily colored bag clashed with his topcoat. "Toto -- I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore," Steele muttered to himself. "The Wizard of Oz," Mildred said from one of the side seats, "MGM 1939." "Very good, Mildred," Steele said as he helped Laura in. "Fred," Laura addressed the driver, "Take us to Stone Canyon, please." "Yes, ma'am," Fred's gruff voice replied. He smiled as he took his seat and put the limousine into gear. "Mildred, we need to close out the apartment and have the rest of the contents transferred to the new house. We shouldn't be needing it anymore," Steele ended wistfully. "Right, Boss," She said, "I'll take care of it first thing in the morning." "Good." Steele took his eyes off Brendan to glance at his mother. She had one of his tiny hands spread on her hand. Her eyes were looking, but they seemed to be focused elsewhere. "A ha'penny for your thoughts, Laura." "Oh, Remington, I just don't know where to start," Laura began. She took a long breath and began, "I look at his hand and it's perfect. Just look at his tiny nails, they are perfect. "I have emotions welling up that I would never have believed. After the hours of labor and the relief of being able to finally hold our son, then he was taken - it was as if my world had collapsed in on itself. Even my vision was affected; it was like black spots hovering in my periphery. Suddenly the life I had chosen and worked hard to bring about was risking my child - our child." "Then he was back in my arms and the world was right again." She looked deeply into Steele's piercing blue eyes. "But it isn't right again. We have Brendan, but we don't know why he was taken or why he was returned. As long as we are detectives, our family is going to be a target. All the villains we have put away and those just waiting in the wings are going to make our child's life miserable." Tears welled up in Laura's eyes. "Oh, Remington, what are we going to do?" "Heads up, boss," Fred grated from the pilot's compartment, "We have a tail." Steele quickly checked out the rear windscreen. "Don't worry, Fred," Steele said. Normally he would have chuckled, Fred was an ace, but Laura's confession had stirred a metal band around his heart. "It's just the feds, keeping tabs on us. Don't lose them." He did smile a tight-lipped smile. Soon they were turning off of South Beverly Glen Boulevard and into the home stretch. Mildred moved closer to Laura. "Honey, you can't let it - them - get to you. You love your job, and you are good at it," she said, "You are the best at what you do. Never let them make you think that you are nothing but the best. You're going to find who did this and make them pay. I have no doubts." * * * Hapgood's forehead beaded in flop-sweat, the clock was running out. His beady eyes were boring holes into Anthony Roselli's back, but Roselli seemed blissfully unaware of the evil eye. He sat lazily in a chair, his feet up, swirling a drink in a glass and watching the colors of the liquid with sunlight shining through it. "Damn it, Roselli! I need that frickin' map. You're killing me with these hurry up and wait games." "Dick, Dick, don't worry," Roselli soothed. "Everything is under control. I have my plan coming together, even as we speak. You'll have your map in less than twenty-four hours now." Hapgood growled inarticulately in response. "Dick, what is the deal with this map anyway?" Tony asked, with an innocent sounding voice. "What the hell does it matter to you, I'm paying good money for it's return." Hapgood shouted. "Just passing time, Dick," Roselli smiled. * * * "Oh, Mr. Steele, why did we have to get a house with so many steps?" Laura looked up the fourteen steps from the drive to the front porch and felt weak in her knees. Steele finished placing Brendan into his carrier just in time to see her color fade. He bent and scooped her up. "Come now, Mrs. Steele," he joked, "surely you remember. Open and spacious stone manor in Lower Bel Air, only ten minutes from work. Gracious two story entry. Open living room with limestone fireplace. High ceilings, wet bar, family room, gourmet kitchen, breakfast room, upstairs library 'slash' study. Master bedroom with marble bath, spa, tub and huge balcony. Seven bedrooms with seven and a half baths. Gym, dry sauna, backyard with cascading rock waterfall. Pool and romantic gazebo." He leaned his head towards hers and said, in a conspiratorial tone, "Not only that, love, but it has three fireplaces, for those romantic evenings." He kissed her gently on her pale cheek. "Let's give it a proper christening, shall we," he said starting up the fourteen steps. "Mildred, could you bring young Brendan? Fred, if you would grab the bags? Okay, we'll be off." Mildred and Fred followed quickly behind. Special Agent Lawton sprinted up as Steele got to the door with Laura. "Mr. And Mrs. Steele," he puffed, slightly out of breath, "let my team check out your house before you take your son in." "Agent Lawton, my wife had a baby after twenty-one hours of labor, then had that baby, our son, kidnapped before she could truly bond with him. Mysteriously he has been returned and finally checked by his doctor. My wife, is exhausted and in quite a bit of pain. She wants nothing more but to rest and bond with our son." Steele paused in his litany, faced the hapless agent with his piercing blue eyes and continued, "Now you want us to wait while you and your junior G-men go over my new home." Steele ran out of steam and realized the FBI was just doing its job to protect Brendan from being kidnapped again. "Sorry, Lawton, I guess I'm a bit over-wrought," he paused again, feeling tired and wilted. "If you are going to come in, could you grab some of the things from the car's boot? We will wait in the front room until you give us the all clear." "No problem, Mr. Steele, I understand how this situation can string you out." He stepped back to the limo's open trunk, nodded to a couple of his men and took what was obviously a framed two by three foot picture wrapped in plain brown paper out. The other agents carefully removed other items from the trunk. These consisted of stuffed animals, in varying sizes, a half dozen flower arrangements, and various baby goods. The brawny agent with the stuffed animals tried to look indifferent, but his neck reddened noticeably. "Where should we put these things?" the agent asked soothingly. "Just put everything in the front room," Mildred quickly replied. "We can take it from there." "Mrs. Steele," Steele murmured, "if you would do the honors." Laura reached into her purse and removed a key ring. She placed a new key in the lock and unlocked the door. "Swiss Shade doors," Lawton said appreciatively. "Yes, Level B Security. Multi-Chamber frame with steel inlays around all doors and windows. All windows are bullet resistant, with built-in alarm wires. In our trade, we have learned the value of good lock and security systems," Laura said, matter-of-factly. "We have ten seconds to disarm the alarm." "Oh, of course," Lawton said and entered. He carefully sat the picture against the wall of the front stair and then, very professionally, he quickly checked every nook and cranny of the entryway and then the front room. Giving the all-clear sign he continued into the house. His men deposited their burdens in the front room and spread out. The Steeles followed, Steele kissing his wife soundly, but briefly as they crossed the threshold. Still in his arms, Laura was carried to the alarm panel where she punched in the code. "Who knows your code?" Lawton asked, returning to the entryway. "Mrs. Steele, Ms. Krebbs and myself," Steele replied, after a slight pause he continued, "oh, and the security system's installer." The FBI agent nodded. Steele carefully placed Laura on a couch and Mildred placed Brendan, in his carrier, next to his mother. Steele stood stiffly, rubbed his lower back and then straightened his tie. Mildred sank gratefully into a chair near Laura. "Anywhere special I should put these?" Fred's gruff voice asked quietly. He stood there with Laura and Steele's suitcases. "Ah, Fred, my good man. Just place them by the fireplace." Steele considered for a few seconds, "take the rest of the night off, we'll worry about ferrying the cars over in the morning." "Very good, sir." "Ms Steele, Your answering machine is blinking 14 messages," Mildred says as she notices the digital readout. "Should I play them for you?" Lawton turns and adds, "Go ahead and play them while I'm here in case any were from the people who were responsible for the kidnapping and return of your son. Oh, and by the way who has this number?" "Mrs. Krebbs, Fred, and of course the security company." Steele responds. "We have just moved in today." "Remington, that's not entirely true, my sister, Frances has the number and my mother." Laura interjected. Mildred presses play, "Laura, this is Frances. Call me as soon as you get home!" There was a beep, followed by, "Laura, this is Frances. Where are you and why haven't you called? Is little Brendan okay? Call me!" The next six messages all followed the same premise. The ninth message caught everyone's attention. After the beep there was one minute and twenty-three seconds of just breathing. Lawton says, "Don't erase that tape. After we listen to the rest, I'll take it to the lab and try to get anything else out of it, background noises, etc." Following the next beep, "Laura dear, this is your mother. I'll be arriving at LAX on the 11:35am day after tomorrow. Please have your nice chauffeur pick me up." The last four were from Frances with each message sounding more urgent than the last. "I'd better call Frances as soon as we get Brendan settled upstairs." Mildred efficiently removed the cassette and handed it to Special Agent Lawton. Lawton's men appeared at the doorway and signaled 'all clear'. "Mr. and Mrs. Steele, we'll be getting out of your hair now. I'll leave one agent on twenty-four hour surveillance. With your permission, I'll set up a trace on your phone line." Steele started to object, but Lawton held up his hands in a placating manner. "We don't have to enter the house for this, we can use the telephone main." Lawton explains. "Oh, very good, Agent Lawton, carry on." Steele responds. As the agents leave, Remington speaks, " Mildred, How about helping me get the mother and child settled in upstairs?" "Sure thing, Boss." * * * "Eight years ago, I hooked up with a Limy, named Colonel Reginald Frobish, who was based in Hong Kong. There had been a series of second story jobs pulled in Hong Kong. Quite a few expensive paintings became available for a brisk trade. Colonel Frobish and I racked up!" "What a great con," Tony chortled. "Those paintings had no provenance, but who was going to check." "Yes, it seemed like the perfect moneymaker at the time," Hapgood said, "but like all perfect things - it had a short lifetime." "Oh no, what happened?" "Someone turned the original pieces over to the insurance company for the reward. My little import empire went belly up." Hapgood mopped sweat from his face and swallowed a couple of antacids. "Unfortunately, my clientele don't believe in the old adage of all sales final. In fact, one of my clients objected so stringently that he put a lien on my business." This was a vast understatement of Hapgood's woes, but it would do. "Ah, now we come to the map." "Yes, the map," Hapgood said mopping his face again. "It seems that not all the paintings were returned to the insurance company. On top of that, my partner turned out to not be a Brit named Colonel Reginald Frobish. It turns out he was a con man named Daniel Chalmers. It cost me a pretty penny to find that out." He mopped his face and fondled his pill bottle. "Then the damned con man up and died, before he could make restitution to me and my family." "Ah, now I begin to understand the connection to Remington Steele," Tony said sagely, nodding his head. "I actually met Chalmers briefly before he died." "Yes, apparently he gave everything to Remington Steele when he died." Hapgood mopped his face again, "*Everything*, including my final payment. *Damn it*, that was two years ago, now I'm behind in *my* payments and *Steele* has the map I need to make good." * * * They went up the stairs at a pace that appeared like they were moving in slow motion or maybe underwater. Laura led, slowly with a slight waddle to accommodate her fresh stitches, the small parade. Steele transported Brendan sedately in his carrier, moving at Laura's pace, but somehow doing it with a jaunty style. Mildred eased along behind, carrying the diaper bags. "We figured -" Mildred started. "We?" Steele interrupted. "Yes, Hazel, Esther, Rose and myself." "Ah, the venerable Dragon Ladies," Steele smiled. "Don't let them hear you calling them venerable, Boss. They might feel led to show you how venerable they really are." Steele cringed in mock terror, "Ah yes." "As I was saying," Mildred continued, "we figured -" Laura had reached the top of the stairs and turned onto the landing, where she sank to her knees with a wordless sound of terror. Remington rushed up the final few steps and carefully placed Brendan and his carrier against the wall and out of the way. Laura was holding onto the railing bars, staring sightlessly over the entryway and front room. "Laura?" Steele asked, concern coloring that one word. "Hon? What is it?" Mildred puffed as she rushed up to Laura, leaving her burdens on the stairs. "Is Brendan safe?" Laura cried out. "Yes, he's right here, safe and sound," Steele answered, in a puzzled tone. "I was holding him in my arms and he fell over the railing." "Laura, that didn't happen." "I know," she wailed. Steele was mystified. "Oh, honey," Mildred soothed, "that's not gonna happen." Mildred eased Laura up and started her moving again. "Chief, could you bring Brendan to the master bedroom?" "Certainly," Steele answered, still puzzled. "I've seen this before," Mildred said knowingly. "It's the postpartum. My sister, Edna, had it real bad. But with support it usually passes quickly." "Ahem," Steele said, "Is it always so -- dramatic?" "Not really," Mildred chuckled. "We figured -" she paused and looked around for interruptions, "- that you would want Brendan in the main bedroom with you the first couple of nights." Laura remained docile and seemed quite content to be led by Mildred. "Very good, Mildred. Under the circumstances it would seem a wise choice." "Here's the bassinet and this dresser is the perfect height for a changing table." Mildred indicated the furniture as she guided Laura to the king-size bed. She was eased into the bed and coaxed into sitting upon it. She sat meekly, but her face lighted as Steele set Brendan, in his carrier, next to her. Brendan's blue eyes were open and alert as Laura undid his straps. "Come to mama," she cooed, as mother and son nuzzled. Remington beamed with tenderness as he watched his wife and child. All of this seemed so new, yet so right. "Chief, take a look through here," Mildred said, opening the door that led into the nursery. "Should we, uh, leave them?" Remington asked, still a bit worried about Laura. "Sure, they'll be fine," Mildred responded, as she stepped through the doorway. "Mildred, you never had children," Steele inquired, waving his arms to include his wife and child, but also the house and the entire world, "How do you know all this?" "Boss, I've been the favorite aunt for both my sister's children." Mildred stopped and spread her arms, then did a slow spin. "What do you think?" she asked, her voice glowed with pride. Steele was dazzled. Two walls had been papered with "Atomic Man" wallpaper above a white chair rail. The other two walls were in a blue with thin red and white stripes. The accessories were all in primary colors - the furniture was all white. Red, blue and white pillows accented the crib and rocking chair in rocket and star shapes. The curtains were blue with a small rocket design. There were also some "Atomic Man" posters and drawings on the striped walls. One full sized color poster was dominant with a small focal light. Steele stepped closer noticing that the poster had been inscribed: "To Brendan, from Atomic Man, Maxwell Donahue." "Oh Mildred," Steele enthused, clapping his hands in salute, "How did you do it?" "I saw the wallpaper at the flea market one weekend and couldn't pass it up. I figured that even if Brendan hadn't been a boy, I could use it sometime." Mildred positively beamed. "When you called and said that Brendan had arrived and was a boy, I rallied the Dragon Ladies together and we decorated." Her grin faded away and she deflated a little, "Of course, that was before -" "Never mind, Mildred," Steele said softly. "Brendan is safe in our hands again." "Anyway, I called Max Donahue and he brought the signed poster right over. He's still pretty grateful," she said. "The other posters are from Mrs. Steele's collection." "Yes. This is incredible. We need to have the Dragon Ladies over for tea soon, to show our gratitude." "Of course, Boss, I'll arrange it." "Laura will love bringing Brendan up in this room!" * * * "So," Hapgood began conversationally, "What's with you and Steele?" "He stole my wife!" Anthony Roselli screamed, jumping to his feet and clinching his hands into fists. "Whoa there, cowboy, cool down. She was married to you first?" "Not really," red-faced Tony said. "But she should have married me, instead of that popinjay Steele. That little boy should be my baby, not Steele's." His voice rose in volume and pitch. "That should be *my* life!" Hapgood wiped the sweat from his face and worried that he might have hooked up with the wrong man again. 'God, why me?' he thought. He was running out of time to wiggle. If Roselli got to be too much of a problem, he could just be eliminated. If Steele and his family got in the way, he would eliminate them too. Hapgood smiled for the first time in hours. * * * When they returned to the bedroom, Laura was nursing Brendan, a receiving blanket was draped over her shoulder to cover Brendan and his feeding. "Laura, Mildred has decorated Brendan's nursery marvelously. You should see it as soon as you can." "I will, but tonight I think I am going to stay right here and rest. It has been a long couple of days." Laura smiled ruefully, "With my mother and Frances coming tomorrow I'm going to need all the rest I can get." "Ah, Mildred," Steele began, "When I sent Fred off for the evening I didn't think about your car in the Tower parking garage." "Oh, that's alright, Chief," Mildred said. "I can take a cab." "No, Mildred, that's not alright." Laura said forcefully. "You're going to stay right here with us. Take one of the extra bedrooms." Laura turned to her husband, "Remington, you need to go and whip up something wonderful for us in your new gourmet kitchen." "Excellent idea, Mrs. Steele." "But I don't want to be any bother." Mildred protested. "Mildred, you are never a bother." Laura said softly but seriously, "You are indispensable at Remington Steel Investigations and -" Laura's voice softened again, "- you're a part of our family." "Aah Honey," Mildred said with a catch in her voice. She grabbed Steele and hugged him firmly while lightly hugging Laura and Brendan. "Well," Steele said as he disentangled his lanky frame from Mildred's clutches, "I'll be off to the kitchen." "Wait," Mildred interjected. "What?" Steele asked. "Wait right here, I want to show you the painting." Mildred steamed off down the stairs. "Painting?" Steele asked. "Yes," Laura said. "Remember the portrait we found in Daniel's effects." After burping young Brendan, Laura laid him in his bassinet then settled herself back on the bed carefully. "Ah yes," Steele said thoughtfully, "Who would of thought that Daniel would have done a portrait of us?" "I thought it was wonderful." "Yes, I understand," Steele said, as if he were mulling a problem, "But Daniel, while talented in many styles, was not a sentimental painter. If it did not have a purpose; it was not worth his time." "So what would its purpose have been?" Laura asked, the detective in her rising up. "Here it is, kids," Mildred said as she puffed into the room. She handed the brown paper-wrapped package that the FBI special agent carried in to Steele. "You open it, Chief, he was your father." "In more ways than one," Steele said softly. He sat on the corner of the bed and untied the rough twine around the package. "Mildred this seems larger than I recall." Mildred smiled enigmatically. "It is, Boss." "What!" Steele and Laura said together. "The framer called me," Mildred started, "After we had decided to reframe the portrait for your new office here in the house. I took it to someone Rose had recommended. He said he would get to it as soon as he could. I said no problem, we weren't ready to move in," she paused collecting her thoughts, "He called back a couple of days later and asked me what to do. So I said go ahead." "Go ahead with what, Mildred?" Steele asked, pausing in his unwrapping. "It seems that the canvas was too small for the stretcher. You couldn't see it because of the old frame." "Too small a stretcher?" Laura asked. "It seems that there were several inches of canvas that were hidden on all four sides, so I told him to stretch it to the proper size." Steel removed the final wrapping paper from the painting, which was now lying face down on his lap. He caught Laura with his eyes and with a grand flourish he flipped the painting over. Now they might find the true purpose of Daniel's painting. * * * "Steele is an ex-spook," Roselli continued in a more conversational tone. "Ex-spook?" Hapgood responded. "You know, a former CIA operative." "Great," exclaimed Hapgood with extreme sarcasm. "And you know this how?" "Because, I'm ex-CIA as well," Tony said in a matter of fact voice, "I saw his file. It was quite small. He had no birth certificate, no fingerprints on record, no records of *any* kind. There was a notation about the Asian theater being sealed, but beyond that, Steele began the day his agency opened. Just like the perfect cover for an ex-spook." "Why are you ex?" "Well, Dick, it goes like this. I believe in getting the *job* done, no matter what it takes to do it. The 'company' doesn't work like that any more. There are too many watchdogs breathing down your neck. Let's just say we didn't see eye to eye and I resigned." Tony smiled a cold smile. "I enjoy the 'private sector' more, these days." "So, Roselli, what are your priorities? What is the job here?" "Dick, my priorities are three-fold." He held up his index finger. "First, I am acquiring your map, your payoff." Next he held up two fingers. "Second, I'm playing a deeper game with Remington Steele. I'm going to out spook an ex-spook." He laughed a hard, cold laugh, which chilled Richard Hapgood. "I'm going to ruin him publicly and with his family, then," Roselli held up three fingers, "I'm going to claim what should rightfully be mine." Hapgood mopped his face, even with the chill Roselli put into him, the pressure of failing was still taking a toll on him. One grim thought surfaced, maybe he wouldn't need to eliminate Roselli and Steele. It looked like they were squaring off to do the job themselves. He smiled a little, as soon as Roselli got the map, they would be off to claim their prizes. * * * Downstairs the front doorbell rang. "Mildred, stay here with Laura, I'll check who's at the bloody door." Steele took the steps easily. He checked the peephole just as a formality; Special Agent Lawton and his FBI crew were still outside. Through the peephole he could make out two people, a man and a woman. Steele opened the door. Standing on the front porch was an attractive oriental woman who stood more than a head shorter than Steele. She was dressed in flared leg blue jeans, a silky red blouse and on top of it all a faded army style fatigue jacket. Over her left shoulder was a bright blue backpack. "Hi, Mr. Steele," the young man spoke, hardly pausing for breath, "this is Victoria-" "Call me Vicky," she interjected, in barely accented English, with a British inflection. 'Hong Kong,' Steele thought. "-Yeung," the man finished. Sticking out his hand, he said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, at last, Mr. Steele." "Of course," Steele said, as the young man pumped his hand enthusiastically. The male half of the duo wore loose fitting khaki pants and shirt, also with a faded fatigue jacket. Instead of a backpack, he had an overstuffed fatigue duffle bag lying next to his feet. He had light, sun bleached hair and a red, neatly trimmed beard and stood half a head shorter than Steele. "Nice to meet you," Steele said, taking Vicky's offered hand when the man finally relinquished his. "And you are?" he asked the young man who stood grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Oh, I'm sorry," the bearded youth answered, a trace of hurt flying across his features, as if Steele should have known him. "I'm Tim Holt," he paused briefly, "Laura's younger brother." To Be Continued . . .
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