Chapter 10: Steal Away with Me
"Streatfeild seemed optimistic about the application for adjustment of status," Laura commented. She stood in front of Remington her backside partially perched on the end of this desk. He nodded his head and rubbed a hand over his mouth.
"He did," he agreed, from where he sat in his chair. She studied him at length and found the strain around his eyes, the tension in his shoulders.
Streatfeild had pulled some strings, but even so, he'd informed them it might be as late as Monday at noon before they heard back from the INS. It didn't take someone with a great deal of knowledge about the man before her to know he was heading towards full blown panic. While panic was not an ideal state for anyone, it often led to disaster where he was concerned as, inevitably, he'd consider some shortcut, resort to some form of trickery, to try to solve his problems with disaster and chaos following shortly behind.
And if the INS were to reject the application, find at the hearing now only nine days away that he was an undesirable and chose to deport him? She unconsciously shuddered at that unthinkable outcome. But if it were come to pass? She wanted every moment alone with him that she could grab, creating memories that might keep her warm on the cold, lonely nights ahead.
"We have nothing on the schedule this afternoon, or tomorrow," she pondered aloud. "How would you feel about flying up to San Francisco tonight. We could have dinner at Marty's, drinks and danc—"
"Arrest him!" Keyes bellowed, pointing at Remington as he barreled through the open office door, an apologetic Jarvis following behind him. The man sported two black eyes and tape over his nose. Laura launched herself off the desk, spinning around and plopping her hands on his hips.
"I thought we made ourselves clear last night, Mr. Keyes," she announced, coolly, "You're not welcome here. Do I need to have you arrested for trespassing?"
"Miss Holt," Jarvis nodded in her direction, then did likewise to Remington, "Mr. Steele."
"Jarvis," Remington acknowledged with a nod of his own. Standing, he silently lamented the interruption, and by Keyes of all people. He took a step to stand by Laura's side. "How can we help you?" Jarvis shuffled his feet and shoved his hands in his pocket, falling into his habit of imitating Barney Fife from The Andy Griffith Show.
"Mr. Keyes has filed a complaint with the LAPD alleging you battered him here in your office last night," Jarvis informed them with an apology in his voice.
"Alleged?" Keyes shouted the question. "Look at me!"
"One more outburst, and I'll arrest you for interfering with an investigation," Jarvis told the bald man, firmly, evidently having already tired of the man's overbearing presence. He returned his attention to Remington. "Is that true?"
"Only after he made several lewd suggestions towards Miss Holt then lay his hands upon her," Remington defended. Jarvis turned his attention to Laura.
"He put his hands on you?"
"You betcha!" Mildred exclaimed, as she entered the room. "I was here and saw the whole thing." She turned eyes heated with loathing on Keyes. "You dirt bag," she admonished, wagging her finger at Keyes.
"Again, all after he was asked to remove himself from our premises," Laura added.
"So Mr. Steele was defending you," Jarvis summarised. Laura ground her teeth at the suggestion she needed someone else to defend her.
"That was his intention, yes," she pushed the foul tasting words past her lips. Remington's hand touched the small of her back in apology, knowing how difficult it was for her to say those words.
"Do you wanna press charges?" Jarvis inquired.
"Ch-… Charges?!" Keyes exploded. "I was just having some fun with the little lady." He turned to Laura. "Tell him, Holt!" he demanded. She puffed up in indignation.
"Yes, I do," she elongated the last two words. "Make sure you charge him with trespassing as well." Jarvis nodded his head, once, decisively as he pulled a pair of cuffs out of his jacket pocket.
"Get 'im, Jarvis!" Mildred cheered.
"Norman Keyes, you are under arrest for the battery of Laura Holt and for trespass on the property of the Remington Steele Agency," Jarvis informed Keyes, as he slapped a cuff on one of the man's wrists. "You have the right—"
"Bullshit!" Keyes exploded, yanking his arm away from Jarvis. "No way some yokel is arresting me for a slap on the ass! Look at her, not a scratch on her!" he protested.
"Mr. Keyes, I'd appreciate it if you'd cooperate before I have to add resisting arrest to the charges," Jarvis warned in a polite voice that belied his increasing irritation with the man. Grabbing Keyes other arm, he slapped the second bracelet on.
"I swear, Steele, if it's the last thing I do, I'm taking you..." he turned to look at Laura, "...and you down. Kiss your license," he indicated Laura, "And your Agency goodbye!" The last was hurled at Remington.
"You have the right to remain silent," Jarvis repeated, as he grabbed Keyes cuffed hands and gave him a shove towards the door.
"Don't worry, Keyes. We'll let Nalborne at Vigilance know you're tied up for the immediate future," Remington called at their departing backs.
"Anything you say can and—"
"I'll get you for this, the both of you," Keyes shouted over his shoulder.
"Will be used against you in a court of law…."
"Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say," Mildred harped at Keyes as she followed him and Jarvis from the room, closing the door behind her.
"You do realize if I manage to escape this net the INS has cast with Keyes' assistance, we've three years of dealing with that petulant little prig, don't you?" Remington asked, pacing over to lean his back end against the desk and cross his arms. Laura's face hardened in answer and she stalked to the corner of the desk and picked up the handset to the phone.
"Mildred, get Matthew Nalbourne on the phone," she directed, disconnecting when Mildred agreed.
"Should I ask?" he wondered with a raised brow.
"What can I say? You're right." The lift and drop of her hands matched the rise and fall of her voice.
The intercom on the desk buzzed. She stabbed at it with a fingertip, connecting it to the speakerphone.
"Yes, Mildred."
"Matthew Nalborne on line two, Miss Holt."
"Thank you." She jabbed the blinking hold light. "Matthew. Hi. It's Laura Holt and Remington Steele."
"Well, hey there. What can I do you for?" She rolled her eyes at the Texan affect.
"I'm afraid, given recent events, we've decided to terminate our contract with Vigilance Insurance effective immediately," she announced. In her estimation, the look on Remington's face was priceless. In his office Nalborne sat straight up in his chair, dropping his feet off the corner of the desk. Vigilance had been counting on the skills of the detective duo, given they'd accumulated a 100% recovery rate on recoveries worked for Vigilance.
"I must say, Miss Holt, this is an unhappy surprise," Nalborne finally responded, as Remington rounded his desk to sit in his chair. "Would you mind sharing the why of it? It wasn't but a month ago we were speaking of a successful partnership." Laura and Remington exchanged a look.
"I'd suggest you ask Norman Keyes that question," she replied. "I imagine he's being booked by the LAPD right about now. Goodbye, Matthew." Disconnecting the call, she turned to Remington. "Well, that's that." He nodded in answer, but instead of looking relieved, his cheek resting against a fisted hand suggested he was anything but.
"I can't help thinking Keyes will come after us all the harder, now," he shared his concerns. She resumed her original perch on the side of his desk.
"So, I'll call in a few hours and drop the charges," she shrugged. "What do you say? Close the office, dinner at Marty's, drinks and dancing at Top of the Mark, Fisherman's Wharf tomorrow?"
"Previous commitment on Friday?" His lip protruded in a slight pout, which, contrary to most days, was actually an encouraging sign. The man liked nothing more than to put off the drudgery of work for play.
"Two meetings, but, actually, I have something I promised Frances I'd help with tomorrow night," she answered, intentionally vague. His brows raised in curiosity. She ignored the look and leaned forward to press her palms against his shoulders while giving him a lift of her own brows. "Steal away with me, Mr. Steele."
What else could he say but…
"When do we leave?"