Chapter 35: Exodus
"We're fine," Laura said, insistently, drawing out each word for emphasis.
"Dr. Kerr said it's just a precaution," Remington reminded her. "He'd like to see the babe come down a bit before he sends you home." She puffed out a resigned breath. Like it or not, she'd been checked into the hospital for observation. Had it been herself Kerr had been concerned about, she'd have adamantly resisted being admitted, even if only overnight. But given it had been their child…
When they'd arrived at the hospital, he'd folded his hand and had signed himself in, then, for good measure, Olivia as well. With the exception of the contusion on her cheek, and more than a bit of a scare, as Laura had thought, their child, thankfully, had managed to emerge relatively unscathed. Sophie, on the other hand, has not fared as well, x-rays confirming a fractured ulna near the wrist. She'd been partially sedated in order to set the arm, and had left the hospital in Thomas's arms, sound asleep. As for Remington, he'd refused the four recommended stitches – surrender and be seen in the emergency ward he might have had little choice in, but to endure Laura's superior smirks, and be told who knows how many times in the years to come that she'd 'told him so' was simply beyond the pale. He'd endured the concussion lecture with a smile, and had praised the angels above when Kerr had agreed not to admit him for observation as he'd be staying with Laura overnight and help would be close at hand should he suffer some consequence from the injury.
"The girls and I need to leave." He picked up her hand and pressed is lips against her knuckles.
"The girls are already gone." She looked at him in surprise.
"What? What do you mean?" He placed his other hand over their joined ones and patted hers.
"I imagine Fred should be arriving in Twin Pines any time now… with Father, Catherine and the girls. Tank and Dozer volunteered to remain out at the cabins as long as it takes for us to finish this." She shook her head, confused.
"But why? Why tonight?"
"I didn't want to risk another 'accident', especially given neither of us would be there should anything happen," he explained. She examined his face at length, then shook her head.
"You wanted to be sure I'd go," she surmised, the accuracy of her suspicion confirmed by the contrition on his face.
"I need the four of you," he lay his hand on her stomach, "To be safe. Your first instinct is to stand and fight. The time for fighting is over now. Castoro's playing for keeps." He pressed his cheek against their hands. "We could have lost everything that truly matters today."
"Come, lay with me," she requested. He went gladly, removing his shoes, then joining her on the bed, spooning his front to her back, his hand seeking out the skin of her rounded stomach. He found he resented the strap wrapped around her stomach, which prevented unimpeded access to their child. But so long as they continued to hear the strong thrum-thrum-thrum of their child's heartbeat, echoing in the room around them, it was an inconvenience he would bear with some measure of relief. "I wasn't going to fight you on this, Remington," she voiced in the quiet room. She waited until she felt the fast, grateful nod of his head against the top of hers. "Which is why I called Murphy as you were helping Thomas and Catherine take the girls to the limo." Out of nowhere, old resentments, insecurities raged to the surface. He stiffened behind her.
"I thought we were long past the days when you believed me incapable of handling a case on my own," he commented, tersely. Her brows drew together.
"Remington, don't," she admonished softly. "Don't do that. This has nothing to do with me believing you're incapable. If I can't be here to watch your back, to make sure you come home safely, there's only one person I trust nearly as much as myself to make that happen. Brandon, Zack, they're good… very good, actually. But I'm not ready to place your life in their hands. Not yet." She felt him relax behind her.
"How much have you told him?"
"Not much," she admitted. There hadn't been time. She hadn't chanced Remington returning to the room to find her on the phone. She'd needed to tell him in her own time what she'd done. "That we're in the middle of a complicated case, an attempt was made on our lives today and I needed to take the girls somewhere safe until it was over. You can catch him up when he gets here."
"And when will that be?"
"He's taking the first flight out of Denver in the morning, so I'd guess mid-morning," she shrugged a shoulder. "I told him he could stay at the house, so he'll drive directly there." She lay her hand over his where it rested on her stomach.
"You'll be leaving directly from here when you're released tomorrow." Her eyes widened in surprise. "I won't risk Castoro's men following you from the house. I don't imagine they'll anticipate you disappearing from here."
"I need to pack," she protested.
"Mildred and Catherine packed up all the girls will need. Jocelyn pitched in and packed for you, with a few suggestions by myself. All will be at the cabins when you arrive."
"Cabins?" she emphasized the plural.
"Mmmmm. Father and Catherine have volunteered to take this sojourn with you and the children." She lifted her brows in surprise.
"Really? Do they understand how rustic Billie's retreat is?" she wondered.
"Honestly, Laura, you're beginning to sound like me," he teased, lightly. "Born to privilege they may have been, but bear in mind that Father and Catherine are very hand's on when to comes to the breeding operation in their stables."
"That is true," she acknowledged. "Still…"
"As Father so aptly pointed out, he and Catherine arrived six weeks prior to our child's birth to spend time with Olivia. They'd be hard pressed to do that with her hidden off in the woods somewhere." The corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile, knowing his next comment would vex her. "Besides, Father's presence will assure you and the girls don't subsist on yogurt, sandwiches and what you optimistically refer to as a salad alone." He grunted when her elbow came in contact with his abdomen, then laughed low in his throat.
"My abilities in the kitchen extend far beyond that these days," she scolded, suppressing her own laugh.
"Ah, yes, you make a bowl of cold cereal with panache," he complimented.
"I boil a mean hotdog," she pointed out, proudly.
"You've become quite adept at heating a can of soup," he added.
"Not to mention warming up spaghetti-o's."
"Yet still can't make an edible piece of toast," he deadpanned. This time, her helpless laughter bubbled over. When he leaned down+ and brushed his lips over the skin of her collarbone partially bared by the gown, she sobered.
"It was the tapes," she announced, succinctly.
"What do you mean?" She let out a long breath.
"I overplayed our hand, that's what I mean," she asserted. "If the raids had happened absent the tapes, or the tapes absent the raids…" She blew out a frustrated breath. "Instead of protecting Sophie, by giving Abernathy those tapes, I put a target on our backs." His hand departed her stomach to rub her arm briskly.
"Laura, you can't blame yourself for actions of a deranged man," he soothed.
"I hate this," she lamented. "I hate that Olivia's going to be heartbroken, not seeing you every day. I hate that you're going to miss out on a minute of this pregnancy." She reached for the hand on her stomach, weaving their fingers together. "That I won't be here to watch your back, to do my job."
"I can't imagine it will be for long. I'll call Livvie each night before she goes to bed. You each night before I go to bed." Releasing her hand, he touched a finger to her jaw until she turned to look at him. "Just imagine…" he waggled his brows at her "…the possibilities." She smirked up at him.
"You really are waxing nostalgic today, aren't you, Mr. Steele?" she teased. "I had no idea you were secretly harboring fantasies of returning to the days when sexual frustration, cold showers and an empty bed were the norm."
"Ahhh, but just think of the reunion," he whispered, leaning down and covering her lips with his. The kiss was soft and slow, meant to stir the imagination. Her lips lifted in a smile under his as she reached between them to cup then caress him. He groaned low in his throat, and ending the kiss, shifted his hips away from her talented little hand. Grasping it in his he pressed a kiss into the palm, released it. "That will do neither of us a bit of good at the moment, ma mhuirnín." She laughed softly.
"Just a preview, Mr. Steele. Just a preview." He snuggled back up against her and found her stomach again.
"Laura…"
"Hmmm?" she hummed the question, closing her eyes as his fingers began to trace patterns over her stomach again.
"Monroe will be providing us mobile phones in the morning," he shared. "I don't think it would be wise for you to call the house, office or anyone easily connected to us."
"You think he might have our phones tapped?"
"If he's connected us to recent events, it's not out of the realm of possibility, is it?" he posed. Her brows furrowed thoughtfully.
"No, it's not," she agreed, then yawned heartily. "And I imagine he probably has a contact within the phone company willing to share our call history."
"Mmm," he hummed his agreement. "And I thought we'd opened a Pandora's box with the Shane case," he murmured contemplatively.
They fell silent, Laura concentrating on the touch of his fingers, his warmth, his scent surrounding her until the comforting familiarity lulled her to sleep. He gathered her closer, closing his eyes, while listening to the steady beat of their child's heart, dreading saying goodbye to her in the morning.
Remington pried his heavy lids open, uncertain what had pulled him from his dreams. Then he felt it: the rippling of Laura's stomach as their child rolled and moved throughout her womb. Her hand glided down his arm, then rested atop his hand.
"It's seems Baby Steele has finally decided to come down from her temporary roost," he whispered quietly in the darkened room, the baby's heart rate beating faster as it moved again.
"He has," she agreed, sleepily, wriggling more snuggly against him, then returning to her dreams.
Laura brooded the majority of the drive to Twin Pines. At least Remington hadn't tried to fight her on driving herself, although she'd been prepared to do battle. Instead, she been simultaneously surprised and pleased when he'd walked her to a white, Ford Explorer waiting in the visitor parking lot. She was not, however, shocked to find Rocky and Bull sitting a car idling next to the Explorer.
"Are they staying at the cabins as well?" she wondered, lifting her inquisitive brown eyes to meet his regretful blue ones.
"Merely taking a leisurely Sunday drive," he answered, lifting a fall of hair over her shoulder, before guiding her towards the driver side where they might find a bit of privacy. "I spoke with Billie briefly this morning when I stepped out to get breakfast," he filled her in. "She'll have the name of an orthopedist for Sophia by the time you arrive, and she knows a small dance school in town so Livvie can keep up with her lessons." She grimaced as she recalled a rather large detail they'd both overlooked.
"I have a doctor's appointment Friday," she reminded him.
"This may well be over by then. Let's see what happens, hmmmm?" he suggested. Instead of making her feel better, she grimaced.
"The Valentine's Day party," she drew out each word regretfully. "It's Thursday. Livvie and Sophie will be crushed if they miss it!" A side of his lips quirked upwards and he pulled her into his embrace to buss her on the forehead before fully embracing her.
"Then we'll have a party at for their entire class after this is over." He couldn't help but be concerned all that was out of her control at the moment would conspire to drive her anxiety into the stratosphere. "Laura, everything's going to be okay." She let out a puff of breath, then nodded her head against his chest.
"I know. It's just—"
"It goes against your grain to cut and run," he finished the thought for her. "I know. But bear in mind you've a far more weighty job resting on your shoulders than I do my own: Keeping our family safe for us." She lifted her head and leaned back to see him better.
"I want our life back." He cupped her face with a hand, and gazed down at her intently.
"We will," he vowed. Sliding his hand to the back of her neck, he drew her lips to his. He kissed her ardently, telling her how very much she'd be missed, and she reciprocated in turn. His eyes burned bright and hers were kissed dazed when their lips drew apart. She reached up and swept back that stubborn lock of hair.
"Stay safe for me."
"Keep our family safe for me," he requested in turn. He leaned down and touched his lips to hers one last time, then, releasing her, swung open the driver's side door. "Off you get."
She hadn't looked back as she pulled out of that parking space. She simply couldn't. She'd spent the first hour of the drive allowing her anger to simmer and burn. Anger at the situation, fury with Castoro. The last half of the drive, she worried. Worried about how Remington's absence would affect Livvie. Worried about how Sophie would react to yet another trauma. Worried about how Thomas and Catherine would fare in such rustic conditions; how they'd neglected the Agency during their pursuit of Castoro; if their fleeing would pose problems with the Court; if Remington could work effectively with William; how Remington would fare with Murphy partnering him. Then worried if she'd somehow had become that woman. You know, that woman who needed a man by her side to stand strong, to feel complete… who saw herself as a wife first, and all else second, third and last. A thought which triggered her irritation again, although this time it was directed square at herself.
All those thoughts, however, dissipated, as she pulled into Billie's fishing camp and saw Livvie and Sophie playing hide and seek with Catherine. Livvie spied her first as she climbed out of the unfamiliar vehicle.
"Mommy!" Olivia screeched, abandoning the game and streaking towards her. Laura stooped down then absorbed the blow as the little body came into contact with hers.
"Hi, baby," she greeted, hugging her little girl tight, before leaning back and examining the bruise on her cheek. "Well, aren't you colorful!" she exclaimed, forcing a smile onto her face, and pressing a kiss to the deep blue mark.
"I've got a boos," Livvie announced, proudly.
"You have a bruise," Laura corrected gently. "And yes, you do." Olivia placed a hand on each of Laura's cheeks, as Laura watched Sophie start to run in her direction, then hesitate.
"Do you have a blues?" Livvie asked somberly.
"I do," she nodded her head, and widened her eyes dramatically. She shifted Livvie into a single arm and pointed at her knee. "Right here." Olivia's eyes rounded, then she leaned down to place a kiss on it, much as Laura had her own. Then the little girl pushed away and was off, running around to the other side of the car.
"Sophie," she called the child's name softly and held open her arms to the little girl. A flash of uncertainty on the little girl's face was quickly replaced by a bright smile as she came running.
"Let me look at you," Laura requested, after she released the little girl from a long hug. Her eyes moved over the little girl's face, then bared arms, until they came to rest upon the pink cast that appeared so weighty on such a tiny limb. "Oh, Soph," she crooned, then stroked the side of Sophie's head. "How do you feel, baby? Does your arm hurt?"
"Granddad and Grans colored on it," Sophie pointed out proudly. Laura bestowed her with a bright smile, translating her answer to mean it was not bothering her.
"I see that." Her eyes sought out Catherine, before returning to the signatures on the cast. "If it's okay with you, I'd like to color on it myself later." Sophie nodded her head eagerly, as Laura's attention was drawn to the sound of banging on the other side of the SUV.
"Da!" Olivia called out. "Daaaaaaaaa!" she elongated his name as though trying to get his attention. Laura stood on her feet slowly and a bit awkwardly, then automatically took Sophie's hand and walked with her around the truck.
"Livvie Bee, Da isn't here," Laura told their daughter. Livvie tilted her head and gave her a perplexed look, then returned to slapping her hand against the door.
"Da! Wake up!" she called again, then grabbed the door handle to try to climb up the side of the truck and peer in. Laura nibbled on her lip, as understanding dawned. In the entirety of Olivia's life, whenever she had gone on a trip, her Mommy and Da had been there without fail. Therefore, her Da should be there now. Releasing Sophie's hand, Laura caught Olivia around the waist and eased her away from the truck, before opening the door and helping the little girl crawl up and in, to see for herself Remington was not sleeping away inside. Livvie turned a crestfallen face to Laura. "I want Da!" Laura lifted her down, and closed the vehicle's door.
"So do I, baby, so do I," she assured her, stooping down to speak to her at eye level again. "But Da had to stay at home and work. He said to tell you he will call you every night before bedtime."
"I want my Da!" the three-year-old wailed, leaving her mother standing there feeling utterly helpless.
"So, where are we?" Remington asked into the phone, popping a slice of kiwi into his mouth, then slicing up the remainder of the fruit.
"Not much more than name, rank and serial number," Monroe answered. "I'm afraid, mon ami, they fear the reach of Castoro far more than whatever my men might have had in mind for them."
"The attack on Clarissa?"
"Pled innocence, both participation in or knowledge of," Monroe relayed the unsurprising news.
"I suppose they denied the attempt on our lives yesterday as well, then?" Remington pressed.
"Merely were a bit overexuberant in their driving, enjoying the challenge of the road," Monroe confirmed.
"So, what did we learn?" he demanded to know.
"Timothy Farrell, Aaron Hopkins. Partners. Work robbery homicide. That is all." Remington rubbed a hand over his face as he paced away from the prep counter.
"The car will have been stolen, of course," he thought aloud. "Elsewise the Highway Patrol would be able to link the accident to them." He shook his head. "At least we may know the identity of Clarissa's second assailant. I'll have Bernice obtain this…" he gesticulated with a hand, "…. Hopkin's photograph and have her add it to the photo line-up. If we've not shut Castoro down by them, I'll show it to Sophie this weekend when I visit."
"I am hearing rumors, old friend, that Laura and yourself are considering taking this child on, quite permanently."
"What?" Remington asked before he fully digested the question. "Hmmm, no. Not considering it at all. We've already decided we'll raise Sophie as our own, should the Court see fit."
"Trying to keep pace with myself and Jocelyn, Mick?" Remington laughed at the notion.
"No, no. We'd quite decided on no more than two, but providence has seen fit that it should be three, it would seem." Unseen he gave a shrug of a shoulder, as he removed the quiche from the oven. Closing the over door, he turned it down to allow the croissants to finish baking. "Sophie needs a family, one Laura and I are happy to provide." The conversation reminded him of a matter with Jocelyn that needed to be attended to. He filled Monroe in on Laura's idea for a foundation and their hopes Melina and Jocelyn would be interested in handling the day-to-day operation of the venture.
"I will speak with her, old friend. She has been looking for a worthwhile endeavor to fill her days and I believe she'll be enamored with this idea." Remington glanced up from the plates he was garnishing when the doorbell peeled.
"It would appear Michaels has arrived," Remington noted. "We'll speak soon."
"Until then," Monroe acknowledged.
Remington disconnected the line, then tossed a dishtowel over his shoulder while walking towards the front door, even as the bell rang again.
"Coming, coming," he called out. Stepping into the entryway, he swung open the front door.
"Michaels," he greeted, holding out a hand.
"Steele," Murphy responded, as they exchanged handshakes. He resisted the urge to close his eye and breathe deep of the heavenly aroma coming from the kitchen. Certainly one of the perks of visiting or assisting Remington and Laura were the incredible concoctions his former nemesis created in that kitchen of his.
"Make yourself at home," Remington offered. "Your room is upstairs, turn right then last door on the left. Should Lina have left any belongings behind, don't mind them. She's not due to return for a bit more than two weeks." Murphy nodded, dropping his garment bag, overnight bag and suitcase on the entry way floor. "In the meantime, I whipped us up a bit of brunch, nothing fancy."
"What's on the menu?" Murph asked.
"Bell pepper and herbed quiche, an assortment of fruit, fresh croissants, orange juice and your choice, coffee or tea," Remington rambled off.
"Nothing fancy," Murphy guffawed. "Only you, Steele."
"Since the girls and Laura aren't here to enjoy it, someone may as well," Remington pointed out, brushing off the backhanded compliment.
"Laura didn't have a chance to get into the details. How are they?" Remington rubbed at his mouth with his hand
"As well as can be expected, I suppose." He continued speaking as he washed his hands, and began slicing the quiche and placing healthy servings on each plate. "Olivia, thankfully, is none the worse for wear, excepting a bruise on her cheek. The babe and Laura were given a clean bill of health this morning. Sophie suffered the worst of it with her broken arm, but it will heal. It certainly could have been far worse… for all of us." He set the plates down at two seats on the dining room table, then returned to the kitchen. "Coffee or tea."
"Coffee, please, black," Murphy requested, then waited until they were both seated and eating before pressing for information. "So fill me in, from the beginning."
"It began the night of Laura's party, with Sophia's arrival…"
Remington filled Murphy in on all the events to date, including Westfield's involvement, the task force, raids and, of course, on the assault on their family the day prior. At the end of the tale, Murphy whistled low, emphasizing his disbelief.
"I've gotta tell you, Steele, I was shocked when Laura told me she was willingly going into hiding with the girls," he commented. Remington laughed low in his throat and leaned back in his chair.
"Oh, I don't know how 'willingly' it was. If she weren't with child, she'd have fought me to her last breath." It was Murphy's turn to laugh.
"Stubborn to the core," he summed up.
"Part of her charm," Remington smiled. "But, in hiding or not—" He stopped speaking abruptly when the mobile phone on the living room coffee table began to ring, making his heart drop to his toes. "Excuse me." He strode across dining and living room, grabbing the phone and answering it. "What is it? What's wrong?" he answered, barking out the questions. Hearing Olivia crying in the background, he quickly added, "Has something happened to Livvie?"
"Everything's fine," she assured him, then amended, with a sardonic undertone, "Although not necessarily from Olivia's point of view."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"She's confused… upset." She blew out a short breath into the phone. "She doesn't understand why you're not here with us. She needs to talk to you. She needs some reassurances." He nodded his head, fighting back his rising temper that Castoro had imposed this upon them, their little girl.
"By all means," he easily agreed, his face softening as he heard Laura encouraging Olivia to take the phone.
"Hello?" she sniffed, her voice wet with tears.
"Ah, a stor, having a difficult time of it, are we?" he asked gently.
"I want you, Da," she beseeched. Remington closed his eyes, grimacing at the sound of her angst.
"Livvie Bee, there's no place else Da wishes to be than there with you, Sophie and your Mommy, but for right now, Da has to stay here at home and work," he attempted to explain to his forlorn daughter.
"But I want you, Da," she repeated, edging closer to another round of tears.
"You've made that quite clear," he confirmed. "But it's very, very important that Da stays here right now."
"I wanna go home," she wailed.
"And miss out on all the fun you'll have with Granddad and Grans?" he questioned, even as his heart tugged at him. "I don't believe that. I think you're just a wee bit sad for the moment, but it will pass." The only answer was several sniffles. "Livvie, how much does your Da love you?"
"More than the moon and the stars," she repeated back the expression he and Laura so often used with her.
"Indeed, I do. I'll call you each night before you go to bed, so we will both have happy dreams, hmmm?" Sniffle filled silence greeted him again. He searched for the words that would soothe her, while dragging a hand through his hair. "I promise, a stor, should Da's work not be finished in a few days, I'll come visit and we'll make breakfast in the morning together, as we always do."
"You promise?" she asked in a small voice after a couple of seconds hesitation.
"I do," he solemnly vowed. "And Da has never broken a promise he's made you, now has he?"
"No," she confirmed, the sniffles abating.
"Now, will you do something for me, Livvie Bee? Will you put a smile on your pretty face so that neither Mommy nor Sophia become sad as well?"
"Okay," she agreed in a small voice before all he heard was rustling. Laura's voice returned to the line.
"What did you say to her?" she inquired.
"I merely promised if my work's not finished by the weekend, I'll be there and we'll make breakfast together as we've always done," he filled her in.
"Has Murph arrived?" Remington's eyes slanted towards the man himself, then away again as he nodded his head.
"A bit ago, actually. I was just bringing him up to speed over brunch."
"I'll let you get back to it, then. And make sure you tell Murphy I said…" His warm laughter filled the room.
He was still smiling when he rejoined Murphy at the table.
"It's seems a crisis has been averted," Murphy observed.
"It has. Much like her mother, Livvie can get a bit out of sorts when she feels her world is outside of her control," he remarked thoughtfully, while thinking he'd be sharing that bit of insight on their daughter with Laura. "And speaking of Laura, she's requested I pass along a message to you."
"She did, did she?"
"She said should you not prevent me from doing something- 'hairbrained', I believe was her choice of words- that you and she would being going to the mattresses."
"'Going to the—'".
"The Godfather. Al Pacino, Marlon Brando, James Caan, Paramount, 1972. The aging patriarch of—"
"I know the movie and the expression, Steele," Murphy broke in. Remington lifted a shoulder and dropped.
"The context might be not quite what she believed, but what truly matters is she got the citation correct," he grinned.
"it may have taken a few years, but you finally lured her fully over to the dark side," Murphy rued.
"Star War—" Murphy held up a hand as he stood.
"Save it, Steele." He picked up his plate and glass. "Any idea where to go from here?" Remington stood and cleared his own place setting, then stationed himself in front of the sink.
"Graham and Warmack will work with Finegold's system installation whilst Burton and Celek will tail Farrell and Hopkins. You and I will report to the command center in the morning," he turned and lifted a brow at Laura's former partner, "After Laura gives you and I our marching orders.'
"Laura?"
"I made certain copies of all the file were packed for her. Laura's mind, left unchallenged, breeds fertile ground for her active imagination and I've found, over the years, that's never a good thing."