A Steele Between Two Thorns - Part Thirty-Two
“I had a think last night, Laura.”
Laura smiled and took another bite of her omelette. “What about?”
“Our wedding. The next one, I mean.”
She frowned. “Having second thoughts?”
“No, no. Making plans.” He grinned at her. “For your approval, of course.”
“I’m glad one of us has ideas. I swear I’ve seen a friend married in almost every church in the city, and none of them felt right.”
His smile widened. “How about San Francisco then? I distinctly remember you saying once that it was -“
“The most romantic city in the country,” she finished. She put down her fork and thought for a moment. “I like it.”
Steele felt his heart give an enormous, happy thud, and he laughed triumphantly.
“We’d better do it fairly soon,” Laura said, “or my mother’s going to be breathing down our necks.”
“As soon as we’re done with this Antony affair, we’ll get things under way.” He paused. “There’s something else that occurred to me, though.”
She raised her eyebrows questioningly.
“What names are we going to use? Remington Steele and Laura Holt are already married.”
Laura shrugged. “That’s alright. We don’t have to get another marriage license. If anyone asks, we’re just…”
“Sanctifying things?”
“Exactly.”
“And what about during the service?” he asked quietly. “Are you going to make your vows to Remington… or Harry?”
Laura smiled reassuringly and took his hand. “Harry, of course.”
“Won’t that raise some uncomfortable questions?”
“We’ll tell people it’s your middle name. Besides, you won’t want my entire family calling you Remington for the rest of your life.”
He nodded and went back to his food for a few minutes. “Laura?”
“Mmm?”
“This - wedding thing. It is something you want to do, isn’t it? I mean, if we’re going to get married I don’t want it to be an ordeal.”
“It won’t be,” she smiled. “It’ll be lovely.”
Steele grinned widely. “Good. I’m looking forward to it as well. I’ve never been to a wedding where I didn’t have to think about liberating some jewelry from the guests.”
Laura laughed. “Just promise me a few things: no Mendelssohn, no drunken bachelor party the night before, and no funny stuff with the garter.”
“Not even when we’re alone afterwards?”
“Well, maybe then. But not in front of my mother.”
“Why do I feel as though you’re speaking from previous experience?”
She blushed a little. “Donald did it with his teeth.”
Steele couldn’t get rid of his grin. “And what did Frances say?”
“She giggled. If I begin to giggle, promise me you’ll throw some water on my face.”
“It would spoil your dress. I’ll kiss you instead.”
“That works too,” Laura smiled. “Now, we’d better get to work. Do you have that address?”
Steele pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. “Bill Peterson, 92 Leicester Drive -“ His voice trailed away as he stared at the words.
“What’s wrong?” Laura asked.
He looked up at her, “Our suspect’s name is Peter Williamson.”
“So? It’s an alias.”
“For Bill Peterson, possibly?” He pointed to the name.
Laura’s mouth formed a silent “Oh” as she made the connection. “The murderer would be the only one truly sure that Tony was innocent.”
“And he’d want to keep Antony close to make sure he stays free of suspicion.”
They both fell silent for several moments.
“But why?” Laura asked finally. “Tony knew him before this happened, didn’t he? And people don’t just suddenly decide to become serial rapists.”
“Perhaps he had a grudge against him. Antony seems to attract that sort of thing.”
“Come on.” Laura said abruptly, grabbing her purse.
“Wait, Laura! You’re his next target, so you plan to go marching up to his front door?” Steele knew even as he said this that arguing with her would be no use. It never was when she got that childishly excited look on her face.
“I’m also the perfect bait,” she said, confirming his fears. “If I’m the intended victim, who better than me to flush the criminal out?”
Laura smiled and took another bite of her omelette. “What about?”
“Our wedding. The next one, I mean.”
She frowned. “Having second thoughts?”
“No, no. Making plans.” He grinned at her. “For your approval, of course.”
“I’m glad one of us has ideas. I swear I’ve seen a friend married in almost every church in the city, and none of them felt right.”
His smile widened. “How about San Francisco then? I distinctly remember you saying once that it was -“
“The most romantic city in the country,” she finished. She put down her fork and thought for a moment. “I like it.”
Steele felt his heart give an enormous, happy thud, and he laughed triumphantly.
“We’d better do it fairly soon,” Laura said, “or my mother’s going to be breathing down our necks.”
“As soon as we’re done with this Antony affair, we’ll get things under way.” He paused. “There’s something else that occurred to me, though.”
She raised her eyebrows questioningly.
“What names are we going to use? Remington Steele and Laura Holt are already married.”
Laura shrugged. “That’s alright. We don’t have to get another marriage license. If anyone asks, we’re just…”
“Sanctifying things?”
“Exactly.”
“And what about during the service?” he asked quietly. “Are you going to make your vows to Remington… or Harry?”
Laura smiled reassuringly and took his hand. “Harry, of course.”
“Won’t that raise some uncomfortable questions?”
“We’ll tell people it’s your middle name. Besides, you won’t want my entire family calling you Remington for the rest of your life.”
He nodded and went back to his food for a few minutes. “Laura?”
“Mmm?”
“This - wedding thing. It is something you want to do, isn’t it? I mean, if we’re going to get married I don’t want it to be an ordeal.”
“It won’t be,” she smiled. “It’ll be lovely.”
Steele grinned widely. “Good. I’m looking forward to it as well. I’ve never been to a wedding where I didn’t have to think about liberating some jewelry from the guests.”
Laura laughed. “Just promise me a few things: no Mendelssohn, no drunken bachelor party the night before, and no funny stuff with the garter.”
“Not even when we’re alone afterwards?”
“Well, maybe then. But not in front of my mother.”
“Why do I feel as though you’re speaking from previous experience?”
She blushed a little. “Donald did it with his teeth.”
Steele couldn’t get rid of his grin. “And what did Frances say?”
“She giggled. If I begin to giggle, promise me you’ll throw some water on my face.”
“It would spoil your dress. I’ll kiss you instead.”
“That works too,” Laura smiled. “Now, we’d better get to work. Do you have that address?”
Steele pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. “Bill Peterson, 92 Leicester Drive -“ His voice trailed away as he stared at the words.
“What’s wrong?” Laura asked.
He looked up at her, “Our suspect’s name is Peter Williamson.”
“So? It’s an alias.”
“For Bill Peterson, possibly?” He pointed to the name.
Laura’s mouth formed a silent “Oh” as she made the connection. “The murderer would be the only one truly sure that Tony was innocent.”
“And he’d want to keep Antony close to make sure he stays free of suspicion.”
They both fell silent for several moments.
“But why?” Laura asked finally. “Tony knew him before this happened, didn’t he? And people don’t just suddenly decide to become serial rapists.”
“Perhaps he had a grudge against him. Antony seems to attract that sort of thing.”
“Come on.” Laura said abruptly, grabbing her purse.
“Wait, Laura! You’re his next target, so you plan to go marching up to his front door?” Steele knew even as he said this that arguing with her would be no use. It never was when she got that childishly excited look on her face.
“I’m also the perfect bait,” she said, confirming his fears. “If I’m the intended victim, who better than me to flush the criminal out?”