Part II
Laura stood under the hot shower for a long time, allowing the clean water along with copious quantities of herbal shampoo to wash the marina stench from her hair. She was still seething over her dunking and Steele's heartless jibes afterwards.
"Slimy, hormone-driven arrogant egotist! If he wasn't constantly sniffing after every well endowed, bleached blond bimbo who batted their eyelashes at him…" And they all did. It was constant. Everywhere they went. Women falling all over him while SHE was lost in the shadows behind him. Having to clean up the messes he made while he blundered his way through case after case, using movie references to explain real life for Pete's sake. Spending money like there was an endless supply of the stuff. Her life would be so much better if he'd never walked into the offices of Remington Steele.
Still fuming, Laura dropped a warm flannel gown over her head, toweling her hair dry before crawling into bed. "I wish he had never shown up to throw my life into chaos." Angry tears coursed down Laura's cheeks as she dropped off to sleep.
Despite her early bedtime, Laura's alarm burst into the 'Tyler and Austin' wake up song seemingly almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Opening her eyes and stretching, Laura listened for a moment before throwing her covers back.
"Do you know what they call the chicken who crossed the road in front of the Uffizi" Austin asked.
"I don't know, what do they call the chicken that crosses the road in front of the Uffizi? Tyler responded.
"Road Pizza." Austin quipped lamely, as a canned sound effect blared over the air waves.
Laura groaned, even as she smiled. Rising resolutely from bed she strode to her antiseptically white bathroom, turning to scowl at her reflection in the mirror. She hated it when she went to sleep with wet hair, resulting in a riot of crushed curls in the morning. Her fingers ran briefly over the four long scars on her right forearm, reminders of the night Nero had disappeared. She had been walking back toward her house with Nero, only to have him leap terrified from her arms, raking her with his back claws when the house exploded into flames. She missed Nero. Many days of searching had failed to locate her furry friend, lost to her, just as her house and all its memories had been. The new condo she lived in was closer to the office, and secure, locked front doors, other people always around. That had seemed important somehow as her notoriety as a private investigator had grown. It was a little sterile, but she really didn't have much time to accumulate new memories, as busy as the agency kept her.
In an efficient hour she had showered, repaired her hair, eaten a quick piece of toast and was in the elevator heading toward the ground level interior parking where the Rabbit was parked – and where it would stay. Laura could walk from here to the Century Towers in 20 minutes – even in heels – and if she needed to go somewhere in the course of her work day, Fred and the agency limousine were available. Laura wasn't crazy about the expense of the condo, but the security and convenience more than justified the cost.
Swinging the doors of the agency wide, she greeted Mildred, who as usual had arrived at eight, just a few moments before Laura, but in time to be responsible for the rich smell of coffee which filled the office. "Morning, Mildred. Murphy in?"
"Not yet, Miss Holt. He called to say he was stopping by the coroner's office to pick up the files on the Peterson matter. You have another client at 9, Melissa Jenkins. She's trying to locate a missing sibling." Ever efficient Mildred handed Laura the file as she spoke.
"Thanks. I'll be in my office." Laura turned right and entered the large office she had previously set aside for her fictitious boss Remington Steele. Her reputation had solidified over the past several years. Rarely did anyone insist on seeing 'Remington Steele' anymore and the illusion that he was traveling, or working in a remote location had served her well. She needed the bigger space, and due to their work load had hired another operative, Charlotte Alonzo, who occupied the central office these days. Out of consideration for Charlotte's privacy Laura rarely used the connecting door. The three separate offices- Charlotte's, Murphy's, and hers - were just that. Separate. She sighed as she stood and looked out the window, tapping the file in her hand. To a large extent they were all independent operatives. On the wall behind Laura was an abstract depiction of a grand piano. It was one of the few personal pieces she had purchased for the agency walls. It was a reminder of her grandmother and the beautiful piano that had been lost when her home burned.
"Hey, Partner!" Murphy knocked as he poked his head in. "Got the results of that autopsy. I think it's clear the death was not accidental. Somebody set this guy up – there was enough rat poison in his system to kill an elephant."
Laura shook her head. "Not a pleasant way to go. Got any suspects?"
"Yeah, a couple. I'll let you know if I need any help, but I think it's pretty much C and D. I'll be in my office working out the details. I'm planning a long lunch. Make sure you eat something Laura." Murphy shook his finger in Laura's direction. He knew Laura had a tendency to forget to eat when she got busy – which was pretty much all the time. Ragging her about it was routine; while it didn't serve a whole lot of purpose, he kept after her out of habit.
"O.K. Murph. Say 'Hi' to Karen for me." Laura grinned at Murphy's back as he flinched a little. Having finally convinced Murphy they would never be more than friends and associates, Laura was delighted that he was dating, and occasionally wondered why she wasn't, but then, there really wasn't time. She really needed to get out more, it was just that running the agency was pretty much an eighty hour a week commitment. She could probably turn more over to Murphy, but he was busy with Karen these days.
As Murphy had expected, Laura worked through lunch, leaving late in the afternoon to do research related to her newest case. She made sure she took time to meet with Charlotte before leaving to go over her case load, as well as to confer with Mildred about her very vital research work with the agency. Mildred was fabulous. A little stiff, but then one would expect that of a former IRS investigator. Both Charlotte and Mildred would likely be gone before Laura returned to the office for her final perusal of the files at the end of the day. Remington Steele's clientele may not be particularly high profile, but having established a reputation by using her fictitious male superior, there now seemed to be plenty of bread and butter cases for a hard working private investigator. Hard working. Those were the words that defined Laura Holt.
Rubbing weary eyes, Laura got up to get a drink, and to stretch for a minute. When she realized it was already nearly eight she decided it was perhaps time to call it a day. Gathering up a few case files to read at home later, Laura took the elevator down.
"Night Miss Holt." The janitor waved from his work in the lobby.
"Night Miguel." Laura's voice cracked, and she realized this was the first time she had spoken in several hours.
Closing her condo door behind her, and turning the deadbolt, Laura tossed her brief case on the coffee table, and wandered into the kitchen. Too tired to cook, and too hungry to order out, Laura sniffed the milk in her fridge tentatively. Not too bad. She grabbed a box of Cheerios, a bowl and a spoon, and flicked on her five inch screen portable television to watch while she ate cereal for dinner. The bowl was rinsed and back in the cupboard in no time, and having exchanged her suit and heels for a nightgown, Laura grabbed the files she had brought home and carried them into her bedroom to peruse as she fell asleep. Too tired to read, the files soon fell to the floor near her bed. Laura lay and contemplated her ceiling in the dark. Was her life all she had hoped it would be when she created Remington Steele Investigations? Somehow it seemed as if there ought to be something more. Her liquid brown eyes slowly closed, and a tear escaped to run slowly down into her ear.