Chapter One

Becoming parents hadn't marred the dynamics of Laura and Remington's career. Mildred's identical twin sister, Amanda who lived with Mildred had become Cristofer's babysitter whenever they needed one. Now Cristofer was seven months old and quite a demanding little fellow. He could already babble 'Ma-ma,' 'da-da,' and 'ba-ba.' He was quite a daddy's boy and Remington had to do everything in his power to restrain himself from spoiling him.

They hadn't had a good case in nearly a month and Laura was starting to get worried. "Maybe we should find different jobs?" she complained one day as they sat idly in the office, watching soap operas on Remington's portable T.V.

"Be quiet, Laura," Remington groaned as he was engrossed in his favorite soap. "Today we'll find out if Kimberly is sent to prison for Emma's murder and if The Phoenix will rise from the ashes yet again."

"Ohhh Rem, you'll get hooked," Laura warned, but it was already too late.

"Laura, don't be a pessimist," Remington said. "Or I will have no other choice but spank you on your adorable little bottom."

"You'll have to catch me first," Laura returned saucily.

"Don't tempt me, lambchop," he warned. "I might just get violent if provoked."

"I'm hungry!" Laura suddenly blurted out. "Let's go to lunch."

"Wait until 'Days' is over."

"Come on, Mr. Steele," she insisted, switching off the T.V.

"Ahhhh, Laura!" Remington said with a pout.

~*~o~*~

Laura and Remington were planning to go across the street to a little deli. Remington gave Mildred the day off to do as she wished since they hadn't had much action at the agency as of late. Mildred was ecstatic to have the day off. She announced she planned to go home, watch her favorite soap operas, then go to the mall on a little shopping trip.

"Watch 'Days of our Lives' for me," Remington encouraged before they left the office.

"Sure thing, boss," Mildred promised.

"Rem! You're far worse than me and my obsession with 'Moonlighting!'" Laura gasped.

~*~o~*~

While they ate their delicious deli sandwiches and potato chips, they chatted about the strange clients they'd had in the past few weeks as well as about their son. When they returned to the office, they were more than a little surprised to see a client waiting out in the hall for them.

"Where's Mildred when you need her?" Remington complained while unlocking the door.

"You were the one who decided to give her the day off," Laura reminded.

They showed their new client into Laura's office and graciously offered him a chair. "How can we help you?" Laura asked courteously.

"My name is Frederic Bouvier. I own Bouvier Motion Pictures. About a year ago, I got married. Recently my wife, Betsy has been acting quite peculiar. I was wondering if you could find out what is behind this?" asked the man.

Remington and Laura looked at each other, exchanging knowing glances. This was the tenth client in two weeks that claimed that something similar was happening. Remington put it down to insanity, but Laura was beginning to wonder.

"Well, Mr. Bouvier, perhaps you should consult a marriage counselor or a psychiatrist," Remington said with growing annoyance.

"I beg your pardon?!" Mr. Bouvier gasped as if he were greatly offended.

"You people hear in L.A. need shrinks not detectives!" Remington muttered as he promptly threw the would-be client out of Laura's office.

"Mr. Steele!" Laura exclaimed in horror. "Why on earth did you do that?!"

"Forgive me, darling, but I am so sick of listening to all this nonsense. What happened to all those 'normal' cases we used to have?"

"Mr. Steele, I happen to think that there's something behind what these people are saying. I think we should check this out," Laura said persistently.

"I think you're wrong, but I guess we could check into it."

"Thank you, lambchop," she said as she gave him a little kiss upon the tip of his nose.

~*~o~*~

Their first step in the pursuit was to call up Bouvier Motion pictures and talk to Mr. Bouvier. "You're talking to him," Laura insisted of Remington. "And you are going to apologize for those terrible things you said."

Remington didn't respond to Laura. He just raised one eyebrow as he reached for the phone off Laura's desk in order to place the call.

After Remington had got the man on the telephone, he said gingerly, "A... hello. This is Remington Steele-."

Remington held the receiver away from his ear as the man on the other end screamed a torrent of obscene words. They were so loud that Laura could hear them and she was sitting a few feet away.

"A- yes, that's nice," Remington said with a little wince. "I couldn't agree with you more. I just called to inform you that our agency has reconsidered. We've decided to take your case and we are very sorry for any previous misunderstanding."

"Well, what did he say?" Laura questioned after Remington had ended the call.

"He agreed to let us take the case," Remington answered. "He told me where his wife will be today and I guess we'll follow her and see what she's up to."

"What has she been doing that is peculiar?"

"He says she's all the sudden very money-hungry, moody, and she spends a lot of her time out of the home. What she does during all that time, he isn't certain exactly what."

"Hmmmmm... that's what all the others said," Laura declared. "Pretty weird, no?"

"Yes," Remington agreed.

~*~o~*~

Mildred left the shopping center and headed to her car carrying her packages when someone grabbed her from behind, placing a rough, gloved hand over her mouth in order to silence her. She struggled in vain as they drug her over to a over-sized van and shoved her brutally into the back. She didn't get a chance to scream for help as the van sped off like a bat out of hell out of the parking lot.

~*~o~*~

Remington and Laura pulled up at the spa where Betsy Bouvier was supposed to be getting a massage and a manicure. "Tell me, Laura, do you think I can give a good massage?" Remington asked.

"I can vouch for it," Laura said with a little smirk. "And how well do you think I can give a manicure?"

"Suitably, I'm sure," Remington stated. "Well, shall we?"

"Definitely," Laura agreed. "We may as well make the best of it."