Chapter 4: Adrift

Remington sat on the filthy cot in the Los Angeles County jail, where he'd been invited to remain a guest for an undisclosed period of time. One leg stretched out in front of him, he rested his arm on the bent knee of the other. The back of his head rested against the concrete block wall, a hand held over his mouth. He'd no idea what time it was, the cell without a window and he stripped of his watch during booking, hours before. It didn't really matter, though. Long ago he'd given up on the notion of sleep when it had become clear Laura would neither be bailing him out that evening nor coming by to visit him.

His arrest in the office of the diamond exchange had seen to it. He might not be able to see her, or speak with her, but every instinct he possessed vibrated with the knowledge she no longer believed in his innocence. The former jewel thief had returned to his old ways. And the price for believing in him? Her Agency. Abandonment. It would be too much for the woman, whose trust in him was tentative on the best of days.

He'd repeatedly vowed to himself throughout the night that when… or if… he was released from the jail, he would find Cranston and all his cronies and make them pay a cost equal to what he had. Only, what could possibly equal what he'd had and now was gone? His life as Remington Steele, but far, far more importantly, the woman that made his heart ache.

He'd see them all rotting in hell, he would, for that.


For the third night in the row, Laura lay in her bed staring up at the ceiling, sleep eluding her yet again.

For years she'd been worried that once she and Mr. Steele shared the 'ultimate moment' he'd disappear back into the shadows, his curiosity fully sated. She laughed out loud, a bereft half-laugh/half-sob. Not once had she imagined their days together would end with a con, a con that would cost her all that mattered most to her: the Agency… And him.

It was so obvious now.

He'd somehow found out about the diamond shipment that would be delivered to the exchange in the offices below theirs. The lure had been too much for the former jewel thief. He'd assembled a team. Distract Miss Holt with what appeared to be an elaborate scheme in which he was the victim. With her otherwise occupied, cut a hole in the floor of his office, climb down, set off a small explosion to open the safe which would be heard by no one after hours. Relieve the exchange of their goods. A fence would have already been set up. Split the take. Then, with his pockets lined, as she scrambled to prove the innocence of her partner, friend… the man she loved… he'd leave for parts unknown, his new life financed by his share of the take.

Leaving her alone, as she always feared. Leaving her business ruined, her life in shambles, something she'd never predicted.

Pushing herself up into a sitting position, she covered her eyes with her hands and began to rock.

The worst part of it all? Her heart was breaking as much because of the loss of him in her life as it was that he'd betrayed her.


Laura could only stare at the diamond encrusted bricks of cheese sitting in front of her on the coffee table in Remington's apartment as her heart pounded so hard it was a wonder Keyes couldn't see it beat.

You handed them exactly what they wanted, Holt, she berated herself.

He hadn't done it. Any of it. Everything she'd accused him of in her mind last night.

Her Mr. Steele was nothing if not one of the most intelligent men she knew. There was not a chance in hell he'd hide the stolen diamonds in his apartment… in a block of cheese, no less. Both ideas were laughable, they were so absurd.

How could she have not seen it the night before? Explosives on the safe! her mind shouted now. Remington Steele did not need anything as prosaic as explosives to open a safe. The only tool he needed was his sensitive fingers. She'd seen him crack enough safes across the years that this detail should have been glaring proof of his innocence.

Guilt kicked her swiftly in the shin.

Her mask of icy calm firmly in place, she excused herself from the apartment. With a little luck, Remington's bail would be arranged, courtesy of a con she and Mildred were running on Norman Keyes and Vigilance Insurance. Climbing into the Rabbit, she turned over the ignition and pointed the car towards BJ Sinclair's home.

No more playing nice. It was time for answers.