"Bernard--Mildred Krebbs' nephew.
He's a student from UC at Santa Barbara."
"Ah, yes! Mildred has spoken of
him," Laura recalled.
"Isn't he a tax advisor on the
side?" Remington asked.
"Yes; in fact, that's how we met.
My brother met Bernard on a camping trip and now Bernard does my
taxes. Anyway, he's always bragging that his aunt works for the
great Remington Steele, so when my problem came up I naturally
thought of you."
"Naturally," Remington echoed.
"Uh, Clarissa, wasn't it? Why don't we continue this conversation
in the living room?"
"Excellent idea," Laura said
quickly.
The trio quickly moved to the
living room. Remington sat on the couch with his arm around Laura
while Clarissa sat in a nearby chair.
"Okay, Clarissa. Tell us your
story. You can begin by telling us how you got in here," Laura
suggested.
"You were gone when I got here,
so I sort of told the doorman I was Mr. Steele's cousin."
"Of course. I noticed the family
resemblance straight away," Remington declared with a grin.
Laura quickly wiped the grin off
his face with a well placed elbow jab.
"Go on, Clarissa," Laura said,
ignoring Remington's silent scream.
"Well, I've been having a problem
with a dissatisfied client. He's been following me and making
unpleasant phone calls. He even ransacked my condo."
"What about the police?" Laura
asked.
"I'd really rather not involve
the police," Clarissa explained. "I was hoping you could help me
instead. Bernard speaks very highly of you both."
"Exactly what is it that you do,
Clarissa? I mean, if this man is a dissatisfied client, we should
know exactly what your profession is," Remington explained.
"I'm a, uh, broker," Clarissa
explained uncertainly.
"Stock broker?" Laura
asked.
"Yes, you could say that. And
sometimes I... I tutor students from UCLA," Clarissa
explained.
"Who exactly is this dissatisfied
client?" Laura asked.
"His name is Norman Keyes. He's
an investigator with Vigilance Insurance. One of my associates
recommended my services to him, but the man was so obnoxious I
told him to get lost. Seems he took offense to that."
"What does he look like?" Laura
asked.
"He's in his fifties, I'd say.
Completely bald, sort of short and stocky. He's constantly smoking
cheap cigars with an atrocious odor, and he has a laugh that sends
chills up my spine."
"You're sure he's the one doing
these things to you?" Remington asked.
"I smelled his cigar smoke when I
returned to the condo and found my things ransacked. It's him all
right!" Clarissa assured them.
"What is it you want us to do?"
Laura asked.
"I don't know. Just get that
slimy sleaze bag off my back. Rough him up, shoot him, blackmail
him--I don't care! Just get him out of my life so I can get on
with my business."
"That's not the way the Remington
Steele Agency handles things, Clarissa. We try to steer clear of
violence," Laura explained.
"However you handle it is fine
with me. I just know I can't go on looking over my shoulder.
Please, you've got to help me. I'm really scared."
"Uh, if you'll excuse us for just
a moment," Remington said, taking Laura's arm and leading her
toward the bedroom. He left the door open so Clarissa could still
see them, but at least they could talk freely.
"Well? What do you think?" he
asked.
"She's obviously distraught. I
know it's not our type of case, but she is a friend of Mildred's
nephew," Laura rationalized. "I certainly wouldn't want it to leak
out that we were taking on this type of case, but I think we have
to help her. Not officially, of course; it will be more like
helping a friend."
"Fine. Whatever you say,"
Remington agreed. "But does this mean she'll have to, uh, spending
the night here? With us?"
Laura sighed. "I'm afraid so;
it's obviously not safe for her to stay alone while this Keyes
character is on the lose. But if it's any consolation, Mr. Steele,
I share your disappointment. I was looking forward to being
impressed by your charms."
"Well, we could always just try
to be really, really quiet," Remington suggested hopefully.
"Sorry; we can't chance it. We'll
just have to wait a little longer to experience that magical
moment. We've already waited over two years; surely we can wait
twenty four more hours," Laura explained.
"I suppose so," Remington agreed
dejectedly.
Laura looked sympathetically at
him, put her arms around him and gave him a kiss. It was thorough,
albeit short.
"Just consider that a promise of
things to come," Laura whispered as she pulled her lips from his.
"Now, you go tell Clarissa we'll help her out while I get her some
covers for the couch."
Remington gave Laura one more
long wistful glance and then returned to the living room to give
Clarissa their decision.
*******
Within half an hour, all was
quiet and dark in the Steele condo. Clarissa, wearing a pair of
Remington's pajamas, was bedded down for the night on the couch.
Laura and Remington were comfortably settled in Remington's bed,
Laura in her sheer evocative negligee' of the evening before and
Remington in his black silk pajama bottoms.
Remington lay thinking about this
latest cruel twist of fate. He had vowed not to spend another
night on the couch and he had achieved his goal. He was sharing
his bed with Laura and she was as willing and anxious as he was to
make this truly a Night to Remember. Everything was perfect--
except for the client sleeping in the next room.
It was all Remington could do not
to gather Laura in his arms and give in to his desires. When it
got too rough, he rolled over as far as he could on his side of
the bed. But he could still picture Laura's hair spread across her
pillow. He could still smell the aromatic scent of her perfume. He
could even feel her soft curves haunting him through the sheerness
of her negligee'. This was *worse* than sleeping on the
couch!
Laura was experiencing the same
sensations as Remington. Here she had finally decided to give in
to him, and yet the inches between them might as well have been
miles. It was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms
and give in to her desires. When it got too rough, she rolled over
as far as she could on her side of the bed. But she could still
picture his dark hair spread across his forehead. She could still
smell the scent of the soap from his recent cold shower. She could
even still picture his beautiful lean body clad only in those
black silk pajama bottoms. She was better off when he was sleeping
on the couch!
Laura restlessly shifted to a new
position at the exact same moment as Remington and their bodies
were suddenly entwined. They stared at each other for a brief
moment, both ready to explode.
"That tears it!" Remington
suddenly exclaimed as he threw back the covers and crawled out of
bed.
Laura sat up and stared as he
grabbed his pillow and gathered several blankets from the
closet.
"Where are you going?" she
quietly asked.
"I'm sleeping in the bathtub.
It's torture sharing a bed with you and not being able to even
touch you. I'm only human!" Remington explained. "Just... go to
sleep."
He turned towards the
bathroom.
"Remington..." Laura whispered
loudly.
Remington turned back around to
see what she wanted.
"If you hadn't left, I would
have," Laura explained. "I'm only human, too."
Remington's face broke into a
million dollar smile. He walked back over to the bed, leaned
across it and gave Laura a tender kiss.
"Thank you," he said
softly.
"For what?"
"That's the first time you've
called me Remington," he explained. He kissed her once more before
straightening up and then silently walked into the bathroom with
his covers.
Laura smiled contentedly to
herself and closed her eyes. Remington may not have actually said
he loved her yet, but his actions were loudly and clearly
declaring his feelings. She could be satisfied with that for
now.
Before the night was over,
Remington found himself wishing he were back on the couch. It was
definitely preferable to sleeping in the bathtub--at least,
comfort wise. No amount of plumping his pillow or his blankets
seemed to alleviate his discomfort. The worst of it, however, was
the Chinese water torture. He swore to call a plumber as soon as
the hour was appropriate. That drip had to go, if for no reason
other than revenge.
Sometime in the wee hours of the
morning, Remington heard voices coming from the direction of the
front door. He quickly recognized Estelle Becker's voice and
somehow forced his tortured muscles to spring into action.
The sudden sound of the shower
running awakened Laura with a start. The next thing she was aware
of was the knocking on their bedroom door.
"Mr. Steele, open the door. It's
Immigration," Ms. Becker explained. "This is an official
visit."
"Oh, no!" Laura screeched quietly
as she scrambled out of bed. "Uh--just a minute, Miss Becker!" she
hollered as she ran to the bathroom door and quickly pushed it
open, running to the tub to grab Remington's covers. To her
surprise, however, there were no covers to be seen. Turning
frantically to locate Remington, she discovered him standing in
the shower.
"It's Ms. Becker!" she
screeched.
"Icy calm, Mrs. Steele,"
Remington said calmly. "Everything is under control. Just go and
welcome her into our home."
"Right!" Laura said
enthusiastically, leaving the bathroom in a rush.
She quickly returned, however,
walking to the frosted sliding glass doors of the shower. "Uh, Mr.
Steele, don't you think you should remove your pajama bottoms
before you get out of the shower?"
"Ah, good point, Mrs. Steele,"
Remington agreed, bending over and removing them. Then opening the
shower door, handed the dripping black silk to Laura.
"Here you go, my dear," he said
with a grin. He knew Laura was staring and he was enjoying the
attention.
Laura just stood there,
mesmerized.
"Mrs. Steele!" Ms. Becker yelled
again as she knocked loudly several more times. "I'm still
waiting!"
Laura snapped out of her daze.
"Uh, coming, coming!" she yelled as she opened the door under the
vanity and tossed the soggy pajamas inside.
Running into the bedroom door and
taking a deep breath, Laura suddenly found herself standing face
to face with an impatient Ms. Becker.
Laura could have sworn Remington
had locked the front door. In spite of her confusion, though,
Laura was all smiles. "Good morning, Ms. Becker! What can we do
for you today?"
Estelle craned around Laura to
get a better look at the bedroom. She could see the rumpled bed
with only one pillow. "Where is your husband, Mrs. Steele?" she
asked.
"He's in the shower right now,"
Laura explained. "I was about to join him when you
arrived."
"Mrs. Steele, can you explain to
me why your couch has been turned into a bed?" Estelle asked. "If
I didn't know better, I'd say it looks like Mr. Steele slept on
the couch and that you two are not living together as man and
wife."
Laura laughed nervously. "I
assure you, Remington did not sleep on the couch. Actually, we had
unexpected company late last night--a new client. She slept on the
couch; not Mr. Steele."
Making her way into the bedroom,
Estelle said, "I want to believe you, Mrs. Steele. But the fact
that there is only one pillow on the bed only deepens my
suspicions."
"Actually, Laura and I shared a
pillow last night. Much more romantic that way. Right, Dear?"
Remington asked as he positioned himself next to Laura and slipped
his arm around her waist. He was clad only in a damp towel.
Neither woman had noticed him
emerge from the bathroom and they were both embarrassed.
"To be honest, Ms. Becker, we
didn't have much need of a pillow last night anyway. We never
quite got around to sleeping," Remington explained.
Laura blushed.
"Busy night, Mr. Steele?" Estelle
asked, smiling.
"Well, it is our honeymoon,"
Remington explained with a grin, cocking his eyebrows and
squeezing Laura.
"So where exactly is this alleged
new client that slept on the couch?" Estelle asked.
Remington sniffed. "Uh--is that
coffee I smell, ladies? I do believe Ms. Cranston must be brewing
us a pot. Shall we retire to the kitchen?"
Estelle, trying to avert her eyes
from Remington's attire but not quiet succeeding, said, "Uh--why
don't we regroup there in a few minutes?"
Remington glanced down at
himself, became aware of his slipped towel and blushed. Adjusting
it, he slapped his chest with his hand and said, "I'll just, uh,
slip into something a little warmer."
Estelle turned and closed the
bedroom door behind her as she left.
Laura and Remington, now attired
in their robes, soon joined her in the living room. Before they
could head to the kitchen, however, Clarissa appeared carrying a
hot cup of coffee.
"Coffee, anyone?" she
asked.
***************
After assuring Immigration that
all was well in the Steele household, Laura and Remington once
again entered their bedroom. With a deep sigh, Laura closed the
door and began choosing her clothes for the day's
activities.
"That was close," Remington
agreed as he watched Laura putter around the room. "If I hadn't
been awake anyway and heard the manager let her in, we would have
had a lot of explaining to do."
"Having trouble sleeping, Mr.
Steele?" Laura asked with a grin as she slowly removed her
robe.
"Laura, I swear to you, I will
not sleep in the bathtub again," Remington declared. "Some
honeymoon. First the couch; then the bathtub."
"Well, toward that end, I suggest
we solve Clarissa's problem as soon as possible. With any luck,
we'll have the apartment all to ourselves tonight," Laura said,
stroking Remington's cheek. "What say we check out Clarissa's
ransacked apartment first?"
"Hmm. What say you check out her
apartment while I check out Keyes?" Remington suggested.
"You're offering to do legwork,
Mr. Steele?" Laura asked him in mock surprise.
"Hmm--in this case, the price is
right," he explained with a grin. "A day of legwork in exchange
for a night with you."
They exchanged a kiss, which
quickly deepened.
Finally, Laura forced herself to
pulled away. "Why don't you shave while I shower?" she suggested,
pulling Remington into the bathroom with her.
"On second thought, why don't I
just join you?" he asked huskily as he opened the shower
door.
Laura looked into the shower and
laughed. "Don't you think it might be a tad crowded?"
There on the floor of the shower
lay Remington's pillow and a huge soggy pile of blankets.
Looking embarrassed, he bent over
and gathered the saturated pile in his arms, quickly depositing it
in the tub. The floor was quite wet by this time.
"No problem. I'll just, ah, run
these by the cleaners," Remington explained. "The pillow needed
fluffing anyway."
**********************
A couple of hours later, Laura
was examining Clarissa's condo for evidence they could use against
Keyes. The place was a mess. Vases and mirrors were smashed; the
mattress was lying on the floor; plants had been overturned and
the dirt spread everywhere; books were scattered around the room;
and the dishes in the kitchen cabinets were smashed. Even the
clothes from Clarissa's closet and drawers had been slashed and
then thrown about haphazardly.
Laura was surprised by the
unusual variety of Clarissa's wardrobe: cheerleader outfits,
slinky evening dresses, sheer negligees, black leather dresses,
corsets and vests, black fishnet stockings and leather boots,
fancy hostess gowns--and the strangest thing of all, a daring
outfit made of feathers. The decor of Clarissa's apartment also
caught Laura's attention--especially the giant mirror over the
king sized bed and the oversized heart shaped tub in the bathroom.
But since Laura wasn't there to comment on Clarissa's unusual
tastes, so she turned her attentions back to the case.
Clarissa then pointed out the
cigar ashes were scattered throughout the apartment--on the
carpet, on the couch, even on the ripped nightgowns. Seeing a
cigar butt in a pile of dirt beside an overturned rubber plant,
Laura exclaimed, "Pay dirt!" As much as she hated to, she wrapped
it in a Kleenex and placed it in her purse.
Laura then glanced out the window
and noticed two well dressed young men leaning against a street
light beneath her. They were looking up towards Clarissa's
apartment, but quickly turned away when they saw Laura watching
them. She had a nagging feeling about them, so she quickly decided
to pump them for information.
She and Clarissa left the
apartment building and walked onto the sidewalk. When the two men
saw, them they looked alert.
"Let's just walk a ways," Laura
whispered to Clarissa. "I think those two have been watching us.
Maybe they know something about this case."
To Laura's delight, the two men
began following them. Deciding she could catch more flies with
honey than with vinegar, she changed her stride into something
more provocative. Then glancing around slowly, she smiled
seductively at their two shadows. Clarissa took her cue from Laura
and behaved likewise.
When Laura paused at the next
street corner and leaned against the street light, Clarissa struck
an provocative pose beside her.
"Hello, there," Laura said
softly. "I'm Laura and she's Clarissa."
"We're familiar with Clarissa's
work," the taller man said.
Clarissa smiled.
"How convenient," Laura said.
"I'm new around here, but Clarissa's an old friend and she's
promised to show me the ropes, so to speak."
Laura walked over to him and
smiled broadly. Clarissa nonchalantly smiled and took his
companion's arm.
"What say we find someplace
private and get acquainted with each other," Laura suggested as
she slowly took his arm.
Sensing that he seemed a little
reluctant, she decided to try a new tactic. "I'm sure for the
right amount, we can make everyone happy," she offered. She hated
offering a bribe, but she was desperate. She was anxious to wrap
up this case as soon as possible so she could finally get down to
business with Remington. Well, perhaps business wasn't exactly the
right word...
Suddenly the taller man flashed a
badge in Laura's face and clapped a pair of handcuffs on her.
"Maybe for the right amount, you can make bail," he said with
authority. "You're under arrest for soliciting. Prostitution is
illegal in this city."
"But-but..."
"You have the right to remain
silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you..."
droned the officer.
Laura looked at Clarissa in
shock. Clarissa, also in handcuffs, just shrugged and
smiled.
Laura felt decidedly ill. This
case was simply not progressing the way she had hoped.
Steele,
Inc.-Atlanta Div.
dtalley@mindspring.com