As the plane began its descent into Charles de Gaulle, Remington looked over at his wife and smiled.

"It's too bad we're on a case," he said.

"Why's that?" she asked, her smile matching his.

"It's been a long time since we've taken a romantic getaway," he offered.

"Not so," she answered. "We were up in Big Bear just a few weeks ago."

"Chaperoning Kate's science class on their nature hike is not what I consider a romantic getaway," he said, shaking his head. "I still can't believe you conned me into that one."

She smiled as she took his hand, twining her fingers with his. It was moments like this one that she truly treasured… and there had been many of them in their marriage. Marriage. It was hard to believe that she and her Mr. Steele had been together for over twenty years and married for nearly twenty.

"Did you ever think we'd make it this long?" she asked quietly, as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Longer," he answered, smiling. "Laura, I knew from the very start I would love you forever. It was a scary prospect since I wasn't even sure what love really was…"

"I didn't make it easy," she said wistfully.

"Nothing worth having ever is, love," he said, turning his head to look at her. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "What say we find Giselle and dispatch this case quickly so we can take a few days to enjoy all that Paris has to offer?"

"Sounds lovely, but do you really believe that Giselle is not in danger?"

"Yes, love. Believe me, if I thought there was any truth to this slave-trading threat we would already be talking to Interpol. I can't explain it, but I just have a feeling that Giselle is all right. I think someone wants us here in Paris, but not because they're going to hand Giselle over to the Russians."

"I'll trust your instinct on this one, Mr. Steele, but I have to tell you that as a mother, I don't like this one bit. If it were Kate that was in danger…"

"Kate is fine and so is Giselle, you'll see. Now, all we have to do is find her."

"And just how do you propose we do that?"

"By starting with the only lead we have… the painting."

____________________

Remington and Laura walked hand in hand into Galerie DuChamps. It was a small, private museum owned by a renowned Parisian art collector named Guy DuChamps. To anyone who may have been watching, they were simply a couple on holiday enjoying M. DuChamps' impressive collection.

Over the years, Laura had felt that their relationship was a true asset to this side of their work. They could blend in wherever they were by simply being themselves… most people only saw a couple in love--- never two master detectives at work. When she took the time to think about it, she would smile… thinking of how distracting posing as a couple had been in the early years, the years before they were really a couple---officially anyway. Now, however, she needed to focus on the case at hand and looked up as her husband began to speak.

"This, darling," he said, as if he were instructing a child, "is The Five Nudes of Cairo. It has a rather long and colorful history. It's said that the painting is cursed…"

She tried to maintain an air of detached boredom as Remington droned on about the painting and she glanced around the room to see if anyone else was showing an interest… in either the artwork, or her husband's story.

"…you see, the women's religion forbade them from being seen nude by any man except their husbands. Yet, somehow, Fouchard managed to get them to pose for him. So, of course, when the reigning Pasha found out about it, he tried to have the picture destroyed. But it was smuggled out of the country, so he placed a curse on anyone who dared to possess it…"

Laura continued to watch the patrons who mingled around them. It didn't appear that anyone was paying them, or the painting, any undue attention.

"Bingo," Remington muttered.

"What?" Laura asked, looking around.

"See that man over there? The one with the grey hair? That's Julian Cameron…"

Laura unobtrusively watched the man as Remington went on.

"Will he recognize you? "

"Probably," he answered, taking her hand and turning her toward the door. "But let's not find out just yet."

"But don't we want to confront him?"

"In due time, Mrs. Steele," he said. "Let's get back to the hotel."

"I can do a computer search on our Mr. Cameron," she said, looking at her watch as they exited the gallery. "Maybe his recent activity will give us some idea where he's keeping Giselle…"

"If he's keeping Giselle," Remington added, interrupting.

"Exactly. And I'd like to check in with Kate. It's almost five, which means it's just a bit before eight a.m. at home…"

"Your daughter is still sleeping," he said.

"My daughter?" she said with a smile. "I think she gets her sleeping habits from you." She turned and leaned forward to give him a quick kiss. "I'll call her after dinner."

____________________

"You were my Dad's girlfriend, huh?" Kate asked the blonde woman who sat across from her at the breakfast table.

"What makes you say that?" Felicia asked.

"I can just tell," Kate said. She didn't want to say it was the way her mother looked at the woman. "So you knew him before he met Mom, right?" Icy calm, Kate, she thought. You can do this.

Felicia nodded, smiling to herself. The girl was priming to pump her for information, and she was good. It was obvious she'd been paying attention to her parents' skillful interrogations. She wasn't sure what Kate was looking for, and she wouldn't lie to the child if she could help it, but she knew that Michael and Lisa would not appreciate her having this conversation with their daughter.

"Did you love him?" the girl asked.

"We were young," Felicia answered, careful not to give too much away. She was watching Kate casually as she sipped her tea.

"How young?" Kate asked, not meeting Felicia's eyes.

"Oh, I suppose your father was about your age when we met."

"Wow, so you have known him a long time."

"Longer than most anyone, I'd imagine."

"Does he know Giselle?" Kate asked.

Felicia almost choked on her tea.

"Giselle?" she asked, in shock. "How do you know about Giselle?"

Oops. Too far.

"I… uh… I… well, I heard my parents talking before they left," Kate answered sheepishly.

"That's enough," Maria said from the sink. She knew her charge well enough to know that Kate would not stop digging into things that were not her concern. "Deja a la Señorita Simone," she said. "Esto no es su asunto. I thought you were going to the mall today."

"I am," Kate answered. "I need to get some things for school," she said, looking down at the table. Maria had her back to her and didn't notice the action, but Felicia did and looked at her quizzically. "Lauren's mom is picking me up in a little while. I don't know why I can't just drive myself. I have a car, and my license."

Her parents had bought her a Prius for her birthday, and she loved getting behind the wheel. Remington was a bit concerned that she'd taken to Laura's habit of taking her frustrations out on the road, so they'd laid down the law. She could only drive in their local area without her parents. If it involved a freeway, one of them had to be with her. And on the rare occasions that they had to go out of town without her, the car remained parked until her parents returned.

"Just barely," Maria responded. "You know the rules. No driving when your parents are out of town. Go on and get ready to go."

Kate rolled her eyes as she pushed back from the table. She was silent as she turned and left the room.

"You're very good with her," Felicia said, recovering.

"She's a good girl," Maria said with a smile. "But she asks too many questions."

Felicia smiled.

"I think she comes by that honestly," she said with a smile of genuine affection. She'd always envied Laura for her place in his heart, but seeing their child…this lovely young woman that they had raised… she realized yet again how good Laura was for him. She'd given him the one thing he truly needed, and the one thing she would never have been able to give him. She hadn't even been able to make a family for herself, leaving Giselle to be raised by her grandmother.

Kate was so like him in so many ways. Felicia knew that most people focused on the girl's similarity to her mother, but that was because they didn't know him the way she did.

____________________

"Ah, Señora Steele," Maria said into the telephone. "It is so good to hear from you. How is Paris?"

"It's lovely, Maria," Laura answered, smiling up at her husband. "And we're even getting some work done. How is Kate?"

"Oh, she's fine Mrs. Steele," Maria answered. "Regular teenager stuff. She's upset because she can't drive the car while you're gone, and I worry that she may be bothering Miss Simone…"

"Bothering Felicia?" Laura asked. She had been more than concerned about leaving Kate "alone" with Felicia. Remington had assured her that everything would be fine. Maria was there to keep an eye on Kate, and Felicia was trying to keep a low profile, so she wouldn't be any trouble. "I knew this was a bad idea," she muttered in Remington's direction.

"What's that, Mrs. Steele?"

"Oh, nothing, Maria," Laura answered. "May I speak with Kate, please?"

"Yes, Mrs. Steele," Maria said. "I'll go get her."

While she waited for her daughter to come to the phone, Laura turned her attention to her husband.

"I told you this was a bad idea," she said. "I said I didn't like the idea of Kate spending so much time with Felicia. And now, I'm not even there to monitor it…"

"Everything will be fine, love," he said, soothingly as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Easy for you to say," she said. "I think we need to hurry up and wrap up this case so we can get back home as soon as possible."

"What happened to seeing what Paris has to offer?" he asked.

"That was before I realized Kate was at home learning all about what Felicia has to offer…"

"But, Laura…"

"We'll talk about this later," she said, stopping him as she heard Kate pick up the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

"Hi, honey," Laura said. "How are things going?"

"Fine, Mom," Kate answered. "How are you and Daddy? Any luck in finding the guy who's after Felicia?"

"Daddy and I are fine. And the case is progressing," Laura said, trying to remain calm. "Kate, honey, about Felicia…"

"Isn't she great?" Kate gushed. She knew how to push her mother's buttons almost as well as her father did.

"Just wonderful," Laura answered sarcastically. "Honey, I want you to stay out of Felicia's way. She's our guest and we want her to feel comfortable. But I'm sure she'd enjoy her privacy…"

"Don't worry, Mom. I won't get in her way. I'm going to spend the night at Lauren's tonight," she said, thinking a change of subject was her best option at the moment. "Is that all right?"

"It's okay with me," Laura said. "As long as it's all right with Lauren's mom and Maria."

"Lauren's mom already said it was okay," Kate answered. "And I'm sure Maria will be okay with it as long as she knows you are."

"All right then, just make sure you take your cell phone so I can reach you," Laura said. "And we're at the Hôtel de Crillon under our real names, if you can't get me on my cell."

"Yes ma'am," Kate answered dutifully.

"Now, let me talk to Maria. I love you, honey."

"Me too, Mom. Give Daddy a kiss for me."

"Will do."

After a short conversation with their housekeeper, Laura hung up the phone with a sigh of relief.

"Kate is spending the night with Lauren," she said to her husband. "At least now I don't have to worry about her being alone with Felicia."

"Darling, I told you, Felicia is basically harmless."

"Need I remind you Mr. Steele, that our daughter is sixteen. Do you really want her emulating Felicia?"

"Oh good lord," he said with an ever-widening grin. "Forget the case. We need to go home immediately."

"That's what I thought," she said, smiling. "Now let's get to work, shall we?"

"By all means, Mrs. Steele. Lead the way."

____________________

Kate stared at her computer.

She'd tracked the return address on the mysterious letter to a warehouse in Paris. It was part of the holdings of Jean Murrell Exports. She had done a search for Jean Murrell and couldn't find much. It was almost as if he hadn't existed until a few years ago, and the only scrap of information that she could find read like a standard press release. Then she found the photo. The face of Jean Murrell stared back at her and it was hauntingly familiar. She pulled up the background check she'd done the day before on Luc Desmarais. The hair color was different, but there was no mistaking those eyes.

"Ok Monsieur Murrell or Desmarais, whoever you are… what do you want with my father?" she said out loud.

She took out the letter again.

Why was the envelope written to Remington Steele when the letter said "O'Leary?" Maybe this M. Desmarais knew her father when he was undercover… or maybe he was part of that "mysterious past." She'd heard her mother telling Aunt Mildred about the painting, The Five Nudes of Cairo. She'd said both her husband and Felicia had a long history with the piece. The painting must be the "five ladies" M. Desmaris was referring to.

Remembering that Felicia always called her father "Michael," she played a hunch and ran a computer search for "Michael O'Leary."

She was stunned by what she found.

____________________

Remington lay awake, feeling his wife tossing and turning beside him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You're tossing around like a fish out of water. The only time you do that is when you've got something on your mind, and it usually has to do with the case at hand."

"You're right," she answered with a sigh and turned to rest her head on his chest. "I know I promised to trust you. And you know I do… but I just can't go on with this under the assumption that Giselle is all right. Not until we know for sure that she is okay. I just can't help thinking, 'What if it were Kate?' Wouldn't we do everything we could to ensure her safety? Wouldn't we want everyone else to do the same?"

"I know, love," Remington answered. "And looking at it that way, I agree. You're the lead detective here, what do you want to do?"

"I think we should go to Giselle's apartment. If she isn't being held against her will somewhere, then she'll be there, right?"

"Quite likely, yes."

"Do you have the address?"

"Yes, it's in my P.D.A. We can go after breakfast. That is, if you don't want to go right now," he added with a smile.

"You're still sure she's not in danger?"

"As sure as I can be," he answered, pulling her close.

"Then I think we should get some sleep."

____________________

"Lauren, you have to cover for me," Kate said into her cell phone.

"Kate, this is crazy. You'll never get past security. Seriously, the last time my parents took us to the Caymans, it took forever to get through the TSA screening. And then at the gate, they almost didn't let me on the plane when I got separated from my parents. How is an unaccompanied minor going to make it all the way to France? They'll never let you on the plane. You're only sixteen."

"Kate Steele is only sixteen, but Susan Vance is eighteen and on her way to visit friends in Paris before spending the summer backpacking across Europe," Kate said with a grin as she looked down at the passport in her hand. "I'll be fine. Don't worry. The less you know, the better. My Mom is gonna call. Tell her I'm in the bathroom or something and then call me right away. I'll call her back and we'll be in the clear."

"I don't like this Kate," her friend said with a sigh. "It's a bad idea."

"Don't worry, Lauren. It's cool. I'll be fine. I'm a Steele, and I think it's time I prove it."

____________________

"We might have a problem, A Stóirín."

"What is it, Daddy?"

"She didn't come alone. In fact, she didn't come at all, she sent O'Leary."

"Uncle Michael is here?"

"Yes, and he's looking for you."

The young woman sat quietly for a moment before a smile spread across her face.

"Maybe this is better," Giselle said.

"Why do you say that, love?" Julian asked.

"Because, he can help us get the painting. He's as good or better than Maman, and with him we won't have to worry about the melodrama that is sure to follow when she learns that we know each other."

"That makes sense, actually."

"You doubted me?" she said with a laugh.

"Never, darling. So where do we begin?"

"We let him find me, of course," she said with a smile that reminded him so much of her mother. "Do you know where he's staying?"

He shook his head.

"I saw him at DuChamps' gallery," he answered. "I don't know where he's staying, but he can't be too hard to find. How many Michael O'Learys can there be in Paris?"

"None. Try Remington Steele."

"The detective?"

"One and the same."