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They sat in a non-descript sedan with no license plates and carefully watched the two boys skateboarding in the park. It was early in the morning and as yet, the playground was uncrowded, with only a few other people besides the youngsters. Nearly an hour had passed and they were both getting restless. The man in the driver's seat lit his fifth cigarette and took a long drag.
"This is just great, Havers. There was only supposed to be one kid. How do we know which one to take?"
His companion glanced down at the picture in his hand. "I guess we see which one looks like his old man."
"How we gonna do that?" He jabbed his finger in the boys' direction. They were practically identical in their helmets, knee and elbow pads.
Havers sighed heavily. "Give them some time, Brody. It's a hot day. They'll take those helmets off. Just wait and see."
"I say we grab both of 'em and get outta here. My butt's tired of sittin' here doin' nothin'."
Havers blew out his breath in contempt. "Yeah, right. Just go out and snatch them with everybody watching." He gestured to his right at the long, blue limousine parked near the skating track and the big man in the chauffeur's cap leaning up against it. He then pointed to the young pair of joggers coming around the park for the third time. "You have to have some patience, Brody, or you'll never get anywhere in life."
"Screw patience. I just want the cash."
They both grinned at the thought of how much they would get paid for this job then Havers' face sobered.
"That's what I want too. So we have to do it right. Kent only wants one kid and it has to be the right one." He sat up suddenly and looked out the rear window. "Hey, it looks like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum are leaving."
Brody twisted around to see the joggers getting into their car. "Well, that's two down." He pointed his cigarette at the chauffeur. "What about Jeeves over there?"
Havers twisted his lip as he thought it over. "He's the only one here now. If we wait much longer this place will be too crowded. We better take him out."
Brody smiled eagerly. "Now you're talkin'."
Summer was Brian's absolute favorite time. Not that the other three seasons were much different in Southern California. The weather here was always a mixed up jumble. It could be cold and dreary on the Fourth of July and yet be ninety degrees on Christmas day. Still, there was something wonderful that went on between ten year old boys and this time of year.
For Brian Steele, two months shy of ten, summer meant no school and days spent outside from sunup to sundown. Summer was the beach and skateboards and the swimming pool, Dodger Dogs and peanuts and homeruns. Best of all though, summer meant getting to see Danny.
Danny Travis was his cousin. Not quite a year older, they were the best of friends. The Travis family lived on a large horse ranch in New Mexico. Usually the Steele's went down there for several weeks vacation but this summer, Danny and his older sister, Trina, were staying with Brian's family while Uncle Andy and Aunt Cait went on a long overdue honeymoon. Danny's younger brothers and sister had stayed home with their grandparents, but he and Trina got to come and visit Brian and Katie Laura.
Brian couldn't have been happier. Now he could show his cousin all the things he liked to do. Not that he didn't enjoy himself at the ranch, but there were so many different things here, he couldn't wait to share them with Danny.
Which was why they were here at the park, trying out the new skateboards Brian's dad had presented them with last night when his mother wasn't home. Brian knew his parents sometimes disagreed on what was safe and what wasn't. His mother worried over him an awful lot and usually his father went along with her. Last night had been a rare exception but Brian had really wanted that new board. It was just like his father to make sure Danny had a new one as well.
It was a beautiful Saturday morning. His dad had promised to take them to the park first thing but something had come up at the office that required both his parents. It was only supposed to take a few hours but Brian knew all too well how those "few hours" could sometimes stretch into a few days of frenzied work on some case, especially if his mother was involved. He didn't want to take a chance of missing this day.
It didn't take long to cajole Fred into driving them. Though he was technically an employee of the Steele's, he had long since become an integral part of their family. His wife, Maggie, had been nanny to both the Steele children. Brian couldn't imagine life without either of the Parks. They weren't quite like a second set of parents, yet they weren't really big brother and sister either. It was hard for Brian to pin down but he supposed "friends" was the best word to describe them. Fred had been an easy mark for his disappointed sighs and downcast face. After only a short time, the chauffeur had hustled both boys into the limo and driven them to the nearby city park where a new track for skaters had just been finished.
"Hey, Brian! Watch this!"
Brian paused with his board and watched his cousin execute some fancy footwork over a small jump they'd made. Danny wasn't quite as good as Brian but then, there wasn't much sidewalk to practice on at the ranch and what Danny lacked in style, he more than made up for in daring. Brian flashed his cousin a thumbs up of encouragement from across the track then, adjusting his helmet, started his own approach.
He wished they could've made the jump bigger but he knew just how far he could push Fred before he reined him in. He also knew that if his mother was here, they wouldn't be jumping at all, so he satisfied his sense of risk by taking it at top speed. Hitting the board squarely, he sailed over the ramp and landed smoothly. With his extra speed, he soon caught up with Danny. His cousin gave him a high five as he raced by.
Brian let his momentum take him around the curve, then he turned back to grin in triumph. He frowned however, when he saw his cousin's thick black hair plastered to his face with sweat. Danny had taken off his safety helmet. Both boys thought the equipment was uncomfortable but Brian also knew they wouldn't be out here long if Fred noticed this infraction of his parents' rules. He didn't want to call attention to it by shouting back at his cousin, so he stepped up his pace to skate around the track and catch up.
As he sped up, his mouth twisted in annoyance. Danny had started again and was trying to keep ahead of him. Brian glanced over his shoulder to see if Fred was watching. He didn't see him in his usual place. That was good. Now, if he could only get Danny to put the stupid helmet back on.
"Come on," he shouted ahead to his cousin. "You're gonna get us in trouble."
His only answer was a loud laugh as Danny sped up to take the jump.
"Danny, wait!" Brian called out in alarm.
But it was too late. Danny hit the board and launched himself through the air. He would have landed cleanly if it weren't for the strange man who appeared suddenly right in Danny's path. He snagged the boy practically in mid-flight. The new skateboard went rolling off into the grass.
"Hey, Mister!" Brian started to protest but felt himself grabbed from behind. Instantly he started to struggle. "What do you think you're doing..." he began.
"Cut the crap, Kid, if ya know what's good for you," his assailant ordered harshly.
Brian felt the beginnings of fear as the man wrenched his neck around and fumbled for the strap to his helmet, then yanked it off. The attacker grabbed a handful of his hair and turned him roughly. Brian had no idea what the man wanted but he glared at him with as much defiance as he could muster. His courage failed him though, as he found himself staring up into a hard face with hollow cheeks and cold, blue eyes. Those eyes studied him for a long moment then glanced down at something in his hand. Brian thought it looked like a picture of someone.
"What do you think!" came a call from across the grass.
Brian tried to turn that way but the man had a strong grip on him. Out of the corner of his eye he could barely see the man's accomplice struggling to hold onto a kicking and biting Danny.
Brian's captor looked back at him then shook his head. "You got him," he called. His eyes narrowed and Brian felt them burning into his soul. The man's free hand abruptly produced a gleaming switchblade. He brought it close to Brian's face and touched the point to his throat.
Brian held his breath and tried to keep his legs from shaking. Was this man going to kill him?
"You don't know me, Kid, ya hear? You never saw me. You tell anybody what I look like and..." The man's mouth lifted in a malicious grin. "Let's get out of here!" came the shout from the other attacker.
The man holding Brian suddenly shoved him away roughly, causing the boy to fall down hard on the concrete. He glanced back down at the photo, then flicked it onto the ground at Brian's feet. "Be glad he's not your old man," he laughed and then trotted over towards his partner.
Brian never moved. He watched, frozen with fear, as the two men moved away, the one still carrying Danny. He must have done something to his cousin, for Danny was no longer fighting. He hung limply in the man's arms as they swiftly disappeared out of sight.
He should be doing something... calling for help... running after them... something, but he could still feel the point of the knife against his skin. He couldn't make himself move. It was all he could do to remember to breathe. He wondered suddenly where Fred was. It wasn't like him to disappear while Brian was in his charge. He was finally able to turn his head to search for his friend and his eyes caught the picture the man had tossed at him. He slowly picked it up with trembling fingers.
There was no mistaking the man in the photo.
"Dad!" Brian gasped, his voice no more than a whisper.
He glanced back toward where the men had gone and suddenly knew what had happened.
"Wait..." he tried to call out as he got to his feet, but all he got out was a small squeak.
He heard the roar of an engine in the distance and knew the men were leaving... taking Danny in his place. He was left alone in a park that had never seemed so large and empty. His breath was ragged and he became aware of his own heartbeat. He didn't know how long he'd been standing there, but suddenly he turned toward the limo and ran.
He'd been scared before but now he was terrified. Those men had wanted him. Any second now they would realize their mistake and come back. He had to get some place safe and the only familiar thing around was the car.
He slammed up against the limo and fumbled with the handle, only that moment realizing it should have been locked but wasn't. He swung the heavy door open and dove inside.
He couldn't keep from screaming as he fell on top of Fred who lay sprawled across the back seat. The chauffeur was very still, his face white as chalk.
"Fred! Fred, wake up!" Brian pleaded. He reached out a shaky hand to touch the man's face. He seemed cold but Brian wasn't sure what that meant. He leaned his ear down on his friend's chest and was reassured a bit by the sound of a heartbeat but it was a short-lived moment as he saw what could only be blood on the upholstery under Fred's head. "Don't die, Fred," Brian begged. "Please don't die."
Not knowing what to do next, Brian pulled the big door shut and hastily locked himself and Fred inside. They had to have help fast. Brian didn't know how badly Fred was hurt or what those men were doing to Danny. Besides, he didn't want to be here if they decided to come back. He felt the tears start to slip down his cheeks. If only his mom or dad were here... they'd know what to do.
And then he remembered the phone. Of course the limo had a phone. He didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before. He reached over Fred to get it and frantically punched in the number to the Steele offices.
Remington Steele was bored. They'd been stuck here in the office since early morning, going over books and tax forms and ledgers until he felt like pulling his hair. He didn't know how Laura could look so fresh, like she was actually enjoying herself, but then, his wife had always been a workaholic of sorts. She was probably reveling in the hands-on involvement this audit required.
He on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to get up out of the plush chair that had long since ceased to be comfortable and walk out. He would much rather be at the park with the boys as he'd planned. Instead, he had to control himself and sit here, feigning a deep interest in the facts and figures before him, keeping up a facade for the little nebbish of a CPA who was conducting the whole affair. After nearly twenty years of being Remington Steele, there were still times when playing a figurehead could be a bloody nuisance.
He glanced at his watch as he tried to stifle a yawn. Ten-thirty. Lord, had it only been two hours since they'd started? He'd just about given up all hope of rescue from this monotony when his ears picked up a faint ringing in the main lobby. Mildred was out there working on the computer and even though she had retired from her receptionist duties, he knew she would answer the call out of sheer habit. It was Saturday. No clients should be calling, at least none that would require his attention. He could only hope it was something from home, something that would call him away.
When the door to his office opened and Mildred poked in her head, he practically leapt to his feet.
"What is it, Mildred?" he asked, trying unsuccessfully to keep the anticipation out of his voice. He saw the look Laura gave him and he tried a little harder as he walked over to converse quietly with her. "Yes, Mildred," he asked in a low voice. "Is there a problem?"
Though well into her seventies now, Mildred Krebbs was still a devoted employee. She kept their books with fervent zeal and was proud of the fact there were never any errors in any of her ledgers. Steele was of the opinion she was actually delighted about this audit. It gave her a chance to show off in front of her old employer, the IRS.
None of that delight was evident in her face at the moment however. Concern deepened the lines already there.
"It's Brian, Boss," she informed him. "He sounds pretty upset. I can't make out what he's saying."
All other thoughts vanished at her announcement. With one swift glance towards Laura to be sure she was still occupied with her work, Steele took Mildred's elbow and propelled her ahead of him into the lobby. In only a few long strides, he was at the desk picking up the phone. Mildred was only seconds behind him and she hovered worriedly at his side.
"Brian?" Steele asked into the receiver. "What is it, Son?"
"Dad?" came the immediate reply. "Oh, Dad, I didn't know what to do. They got Danny and Fred's hurt and they're gonna come back and..."
"Whoa there, Mate," Steele interrupted. His son's words were coming fast and furious, spilling over each other in his haste. "Slow down and tell me what's wrong."
Steele could hear Brian draw in a shaky breath before he began again.
"They took Danny."
"Who did?" Steele asked, starting to feel some of the same fear that was so evident in his son's voice.
"Two men," Brian told him. "I don't know who they were. I never saw them before but they took him away in a car and I didn't know what to do."
"All right, Son. First things first. Where are you?"
"At the park... in the limo. I locked all the doors."
"Good. Now, where's Fred?"
"Here with me," Brian answered and suddenly lost what control he'd had. Steele could hear the boy sobbing, nearly hysterical and his grip tightened on the receiver until his knuckles were white. He felt a maddening frustration that he was so far away and couldn't really do anything.
"Brian, Brian... calm down, Son. I can't help you if you don't calm down and talk to me."
There came another quivering breath over the phone and Steele knew his son was trying to do as he'd asked.
"Fred's hurt, Dad," Brian finally managed to say. "I think he's hurt bad."
Another stab of dread shot through Steele at the thought of his long-time friend's life being in jeopardy.
"Is he breathing... can you tell if he's alive?" he asked, trying to keep his own voice under control. He didn't want Brian to pick up on his fear.
"Yes, but he's bleeding. They hit him on the head."
"All right, hold on. We're on our way there. I'm going to call the police and an ambulance for Fred. If they get there ahead of us, let them in."
"Okay, Dad."
"Now listen... you need to hang up right now..."
"Nooo..." Brian interrupted, all his terror sounding loud and clear. "I'll be all alone."
"It will only be for a few minutes until we get to the car," Steele said soothingly. "Then we'll call you right back so you won't be alone. If you don't hang up, we won't be able to reach you."
There was a short pause while Brian considered that, then he spoke up.
"Okay, Dad. I will... but please hurry."
"We'll be there as soon as we can. Don't worry. Everything will be all right."
Steele didn't even wait to hear the click. He handed the phone to Mildred.
"Call the police and an ambulance. Send them to Lakeview Park..." Steele paused as another thought occurred to him. "Call Maggie as well. Tell her to keep the girls at home. We'll let her know about Fred as soon as we find out anything."
"Right away, Chief." Instantly all business, Mildred hurried to comply.
Steele didn't stand on ceremony; he merely burst back into the office and strode over to where Laura had half risen from her chair to demand an explanation from him.
"No time," he informed her as he took her arm and helped her complete the job of getting up. "You'll have to excuse us, Mr. Crawford," he told the IRS representative. "Family emergency. Miss Krebbs can help you with the rest of this." With that, he rushed Laura out of the office and through the lobby.
She went without a struggle, knowing he would have a good reason to drag her away from something so important. But he knew she wouldn't go very far without some sort of explanation. Still, he waited until they reached the elevator and a degree of privacy before he said anything.
"Danny's been kidnapped," he said quickly when he saw her about to let loose a barrage of questions.
"Kidnapped?" she replied is disbelief. "Kidnapped... Danny?"
Steele nodded grimly. "Brian called from the limo practically hysterical."
"Is Brian all right?" Laura asked at once, panic flitting across her face.
Steele nodded again. "Scared to death, but he seems fine. Fred's hurt though."
"Fred? My God..." Steele could see it was taking Laura some time to let everything sink in. After all these years with her, he could watch her mind work by studying her face. She turned that face up to him now. "How bad?"
Steele shook his head. "Brian wasn't sure. He's unconscious but at least he's still alive."
The elevator doors opened and deposited them at the parking garage. No other words were spoken between them as they raced to their car. It seemed to Steele that it took an eternity to unlock the doors and get the key into the ignition. In the passenger seat beside him, Laura was fumbling to get the phone off its post. They were both a wreck, just what their son didn't need right now. He took one precious moment to lay a hand on top of Laura's. She glanced up at him questioningly.
"Icy calm," was all he said.
It was all she needed. She took a deep, steadying breath then quietly picked up the receiver. Steele started the engine smoothly and soon they were out of the garage and speeding down the street.
All the way to the park Laura had to keep telling herself this wasn't just a bad dream, that it was really happening. They had already experienced this once before, with Katie Laura when she was small and Laura had vowed never to have to go through it again, which was precisely the reason they kept their children out of the media, why they went to private schools, why they had Fred around, for God's sake. How could this have happened? More importantly, why? Why Danny and not Brian? They could have taken both boys for that matter but from what she could make out of Brian's story, they were looking for someone specific.
All these thoughts ran through her mind over and over while she talked to her son and tried to comfort him the best she could. She had never heard him so frightened and all she really wanted to do was take him into her arms and reassure herself that he was alive and unharmed. Gone was the professional investigator. Her maternal instincts had taken over and she was all mother... desperate to get to her son and help him.
Halfway to their destination, the police arrived at the scene and Brian hung up the phone. Laura and Remington were left in silence as they raced the rest of the way. They were stopped once, at the entrance to the park, by an officer who demanded some identification then waved them through. As they approached the skating area they could see the limo surrounded by half a dozen police units. There were blue-clad officers scattered all over the playground, apparently searching for leads. An ambulance, it's lights flashing, was just pulling out of the parking area. Laura craned her neck for any sign of Fred but there was no way to see into the vehicle and it was soon speeding back the way they had just come. Her attention was once more directed toward their car and the center of all the police activity.
"I don't see him," she stated in a worried tone as Remington parked the car. She was out the door before he'd even turned off the engine. "Brian!" she called out as she headed toward the main group.
Remington came up beside her, took her arm, and together they half walked, half ran to their limousine. Her mind registered him next to her, his face stonily devoid of anything except determination. It was his eyes though, that managed to cut through her single-minded concern for her son. Those clear blue eyes that so often held humor, love and passion, were now sparked with an anger she had witnessed only rarely. Whomever had schemed to hurt them had taken on a formidable opponent in Remington Steele.
"There's Mitchell," he observed crisply with a nod toward a tall, lanky man with a thick mop of red hair.
Lieutenant Mitchell Harris was the head of the Missing Persons Division and the Steeles had worked with him on countless cases. He was one of the few policemen they'd encountered who didn't harbor a resentment of private investigators. In his line of work, he was only too happy to have extra help in solving his backlog of kidnappings, runaways, disappearing husbands, custody disputes and all the other mysteries that ended up in his department. He was obviously in charge here and Laura was glad of that. It would help to have a friendly face in this sea of blue uniforms.
He must have seen them, for a path through the officers suddenly opened up. Laura felt her heart leap with joy as she saw Brian standing there next to the lieutenant. She felt the flood of tears at the same time a huge smile spread across her face.
"Brian!" she cried.
"Mom!"
Brian ran to meet her, throwing his arms around her neck and clinging tight, his tear-streaked face buried against her. She held him, weak with relief, and watched Remington shake Mitchell's offered hand in unspoken gratitude. His other hand rested on her shoulder.
"How's Fred?" she heard him inquire and felt guilty she hadn't thought to ask.
"Alive," the lieutenant informed them matter-of-factly. "Won't know much more than that till the doctors can get a look at him. Paramedics said he was stable for now. Those goons hit him pretty damn hard. Looks like they meant to take him out of the picture... permanently." He held up a plastic wrapped tire iron.
Laura shuddered and held Brian closer. She felt her husband's grip tighten.
"What about Danny?" Steele asked grimly. "Do we know anything yet?"
Mitchell shook his head and pointed down at Brian. "We didn't want to push him. He's pretty shook up. We thought we'd wait till you got here."
Remington looked at Laura and nodded, letting her know it would be up to her. Brian was liable to feel more comfortable talking to her. She took her son by his shoulders, noting absently just how tall he'd grown in the last few months. He wasn't her baby anymore.
"Let's find some place to sit down," she suggested and walked Brian over to a nearby bench. Steele and Mitchell followed after them.
"I know you're scared, Honey," Laura began. "But the lieutenant here needs to know about the men who took Danny. Do you think you can remember?"
Brian nodded slowly, the freckles that dotted his nose and cheeks standing out darkly against his pale face. He swallowed hard and gathered up his courage.
"One of 'em grabbed Danny while we were skating. I didn't see him very good. The other one was holding me. I couldn't turn around." His hand raised to rub distractedly at his tousled, brown hair. He looked up to meet Laura's concerned gaze, his soft, brown eyes filling again with tears. "He had a knife, Mom. He said if I told anybody what he looked like, he'd kill me."
Laura heard her husband mutter something from behind her that sounded suspiciously like, "I'll kill the bugger," then he came around and knelt down in front of their son. He took the boy's hands between his own.
"We're not going to let anyone hurt you, Son," Remington assured Brian earnestly. "I know you're frightened but you're the only one who can help Danny right now."
Brian brought the back of his hand across his face and wiped at his nose. Remington reached into his pocket and produced a handkerchief. The boy took it dutifully. Laura's heart warmed at the scene. These two looked so different yet were so much alike. Brian sniffed once more then turned back to Laura.
"The guy that had me was tall and skinny. His face was real thin... like he was sucking his cheeks in like this." Brian made the appropriate face and Laura smiled, some of the tension relieved.
"Was he white, black...?" Mitchell prompted, eager to get more information.
"White," Brian stated with an emphatic nod of his head. "Real white with black hair."
"Mustache... beard... anything?" the lieutenant asked, jotting down notes on a small pad he'd taken out of his pocket.
Brain shook his head. "Nothing like that but he did need a shave." He paused and thought a moment. "He had real bad teeth, all yellow and crooked... oh, and he smelled awful." Brian wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Like an old ashtray."
"Is that all you remember?" Remington asked.
Brian thought hard then shrugged. "I guess."
"And the other man," Laura reminded gently. "Can you tell us anything about him at all?"
Brian chewed on his lower lip as he tried to recall. "Well... he was smaller. He had a hard time holding on to Danny 'cuz he was biting and kicking. He had brown hair and a moustache... I think."
"Okay, Brian. You did real good." Mitchell patted his shoulder. "Maybe later your folks can bring you to the station and you can look at some pictures for us."
"You mean mug shots?" Brian asked.
The lieutenant shook his head and smiled. "Can't tell who your parents are," he commented lightly then turned to Steele. "Go ahead and take him home. I think he's been through enough right now. As soon as you think he's up to it though, bring him down. We need you at home anyway, in case these guys call."
"You think it's ransom then?" Laura asked. Mitchell shrugged. "Gotta cover all bases."
"That doesn't make sense," Remington interjected. "My sister and her husband don't have any money to speak of and they certainly don't have any enemies..." He paused for a moment then continued. "Not anymore anyway."
While he was talking, Laura noticed the fear that had faded somewhat from Brian's face was back in full force. "What is it, Son?" she asked in alarm. He reached into his pocket and clutched something there. "Brian?" Laura repeated more insistently.
Remington stopped talking and turned back to the boy. "What's wrong?" he asked, his eyes darting between Laura and Brian.
"Dad, I..." Brian pulled his hand out of his pocket. "I know why they took Danny."
"What?" Laura gripped her son's knee firmly. "I thought you'd told us everything."
Brian glanced at all three adults in apprehension. Then he opened his palm and held out the crumpled photo. Laura took it gently and opened it up to reveal the picture of Steele. She stared at it in confusion.
"What does this mean?" she asked to no one in particular.
Remington took the picture from her and knelt down again to face Brian. "Where did you get this?" he asked.
Brian's eyes were large and scared. "The man had it. That's why they took Danny... because he looks like you, Dad." Brian started to cry softly. "He told me to be glad I wasn't your son." He turned back to Laura. "They wanted me... they thought Danny was me." He leaned into Laura's embrace, his slender frame shuddering with sobs.
She held her son and listened to the concerned conversation above her as Remington and Mitchell discussed a plan of action. Ordinarily she would have been right in the middle of things, but all she wanted to do was sit here and hold onto Brian. It had been too close a call. She'd almost lost Katie Laura once. The thought of losing Brian was too terrible to have to deal with.
"Is there a way to keep the press out of this?" Steele was asking. "If these men find out they have the wrong boy..."
"You don't have to tell me," the lieutenant replied grimly. "We might be able to put them off for a while but not long." He paused then continued on in a slightly lower voice that sounded very conspiratorial to Laura. "Course we might be able to mislead them for a bit."
"How do we do that?" Remington asked, lowering his voice as well.
"You folks have been pretty discreet about your private lives. Obviously that's why the kidnappers got the wrong kid. I say we go along and pretend they have Brian. You got a picture of Danny?"
Steele nodded. "At home, yes. You're saying put Danny's picture in the paper and tell everyone he's Brian."
"That's the only way I can see of keeping them from snooping around on their own. Danny must resemble you, so it shouldn't be too hard to convince them."
Laura's jaw clenched in suppressed anger. It had always been a family joke that Caitlin's son looked more like Remington than his own. It had also cast aside any doubts anyone might still have about Remington and Cait being brother and sister. It was grimly ironic that this should now be the cause of so much grief. Her heart went out to Caitlin... Cait! She sat up straight and tugged at her husband's sleeve.
"What about Cait and Andy?" she asked in concern. "They'll have to be told. We can't let them read about it in the paper."
Remington's face was again reflecting that anger Laura had sensed there. She knew how deeply he cared about his sister and her family. That he might be the cause of any hurt to her would cut him to the heart. Laura wasn't sure if he could have been any angrier if the men had taken Brian. He loved the Travis children nearly as much as he did Katie and Brian.
"We'll call them when we get back to the house... Andy's parents as well. We can't have them hearing it in the news either." He turned to the lieutenant. "We'll get you that photo. Right now I'd like to take Brian away from here."
"Sure thing," Mitchell agreed. "We'll follow you there though... just in case they realize their mistake. We'll also need to set up surveillance and taps, for when they contact you." "Certainly," Laura told him as she stood up with Brian. "Whatever you need, Mitch. We'll help however we can."
It was a quiet ride home. The only sounds were Brian's occasional sniffles as he tried to control his tears. While she held her son, Laura steeled herself for the reception they would get at home. Maggie and the girls would all be in need of their strength. She glanced in the side mirror and could see the patrol car behind them. No, getting home wasn't going to put an end to this ordeal. It was only beginning.
Danny didn't think he'd ever been as scared as he was right now. He couldn't remember much since that man grabbed him in the park. He remembered fighting and then the man must've hit him. Everything after that was fuzzy and his head hurt pretty bad. The next thing he could recall was waking up in this dark, empty room. He had no idea where he was or what had happened to Brian. It wasn't what had already happened that frightened him so much though. It was what was going to happen. For a long time after his head cleared, he'd been all alone. Then he'd heard voices on the other side of a rough wooden door. His hands were taped together in front of him but his legs were free, so he was able to move about. He leaned his ear up against the door and listened to his kidnappers discuss their plans for him.
It had been confusing for a while. They talked about the ransom and somebody named Kent. Danny didn't know who Kent was but he knew what ransom meant... money... usually a lot of it. It didn't make any sense. His family wasn't rich... in fact, they were pretty far from it. Of course, Uncle Remington had a lot of money. Maybe they were going to ask him to pay the ransom. But if that was it, then why hadn't they taken Brian?
And then it sounded like they did have Brian. Maybe they had taken both of them. Maybe Brian was just in another room like he was. Maybe they'd only taken him because he was with Brian and they didn't want any witnesses.
Thinking that was what had happened, Danny made his way to each of the other walls of his prison and tapped softly, hoping to find Brian on the other side somewhere. He'd had no luck but that didn't mean his cousin wasn't there. He might not be able to hear or he might be tied up and unable to answer.
He'd gone back over to the door to see if he could hear any more from his captors. A one-sided conversation was going on. One of the men was obviously on the phone, talking to the person, Kent, who seemed to be the boss. They kept talking about "the kid"... like they only had one. Then they talked about Steele and making him pay through the nose. He never told Kent about having Danny as well. It was all too much to figure out.
After the man hung up, Danny didn't hear much so he'd sat down on the floor to wait. There wasn't anything else to do. His head throbbed and he was hungry and thirsty. On top of that, he had to go to the bathroom. Overall he was pretty miserable and he hoped the men would come for him soon. It didn't take long.
The door opened with a glaring light that hurt his eyes after being in the dark for so long. He couldn't make out the face of the man who loomed above him in the doorway.
"Here's lunch, Kid," the man announced and tossed something at him. It sounded like a paper bag. "We're gonna call your old man pretty soon and I'm sure he'll wanna talk to you. We want you to tell him we're treatin' ya right." He laughed loudly. "I sure hope Steele does what we tell him. I'd hate to have to waste a nice kid like you. By the way, the john's out here. You gotta use it, you knock and ask real nice." He laughed again, louder this time and slammed the door shut.
Danny sat in the darkness and tried to sort out what the man had said. They were going to call his dad but Uncle Remington had to do what they said. As he sat there and mulled it over, his nose caught the smell of french fries and he remembered his lunch. He felt around for the bag and found a hamburger wrapped in greasy paper, surrounded by a scattering of loose, soggy fries. Ordinarily he would've turned his nose up at such fare but he was too hungry to care right now.
He wolfed down the burger and wished there was another one. He had to content himself with the fries. But as he ate, everything suddenly became clear. He froze, a half-eaten fry mid-way to his mouth. Brian wasn't here. These men thought he was Brian. How many times had people mistaken Uncle Remington for his father? They'd been compared to each other for as long as Danny could remember. It was usually funny. Now it was frightening.
He sat in the dark, his appetite gone, and wondered what was going to happen to him. These men were bound to find out he wasn't Brian. What would they do to him then? Brian Steele was worth a lot of money. Danny Travis wasn't. His mom and dad couldn't ever come up with the kind of money these men were after. His mind flashed back on all the cop movies he'd seen. His future didn't seem very promising if those films were right. These men would probably kill him and then go back for Brian. He raised up his knees and rested his head against them. His mind was far away, back at home, with Trina and the twins and little B.J., who could be such a pest at times but who Danny suddenly wanted to see very much... the ranch, with Grandma and Grandpa and all his aunts and uncles and cousins... and Mom and Dad."
He started to cry. He tried to tell himself that he was ten years old and too grown up to act like such a baby but it didn't do any good. The tears only came faster. All at once his stomach began to churn in rebellion of what he'd just eaten and he curled up on the dirty floor. He wanted to go home.
Steele rested against the window seat, framed by the den's bay windows. He stared out at the large expanse of brilliant, green lawn without really seeing it. He hated being useless and that was exactly how he felt. Mitchell and his men had taken over, surrounding the house, tapping into the phones, setting up their equipment. There was nothing Steele or Laura could do except watch. Never content to do that, Laura had seen Brian settled in his room, then gone with Maggie to the hospital. Steele hovered on the edge of all the activity, wanting desperately to do something but it seemed the best he could do was to stay out of their way.
It was all done now. The only thing left was wait... wait for something to happen... wait to hear from the bastards who were responsible for all of this. So he sat here, the lunch Laura had left for him untouched on its tray. His mind was a million different places... all of them dark and brooding. He and Laura had long ago come to grips with the risks of their profession. Even when the children had come, they dealt with the dangers that went along with notoriety and a degree of wealth. They thought they had all contingencies covered; they thought they were prepared.
He hadn't counted on anybody else getting hurt. When Caitlin came into his life, he'd considered himself extremely lucky to have found what he thought had been lost to him forever... a family. He'd lived so long without one... without ties of any kind. Now it seemed the other way around. He'd been with Laura for nearly twenty years. He had his own children... his own family, and with Caitlin's marriage to Andy, they'd inherited a rather large extended group of in-laws who welcomed them with open arms. Now Steele could hardly remember not having a family. He would do anything to protect them.
"Daddy?"
Steele pulled himself back from his musings and turned away from the window. Katie Laura was there, looking a bit timid about interrupting him. Even in the funk he was in, he managed a smile for her. She was always able to brighten his darkest moods. When she was a very little girl, all she had to do was crawl into his lap or take his hand in a way that let him know how much she loved him. Now, at thirteen and on the brink of young womanhood, she still had a knack for knowing just when he needed her company. He reached out and took her hand to pull her over to sit beside him.
"Mom just called," Katie told him. "She said Fred's going to be all right. Maggie's staying there but Mom's going to come home."
Steele breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad about Fred. How's Trina doing?"
"Okay, I guess." Katie shrugged her shoulders. "She doesn't really want any company right now. I tried to get her to talk to me but she told me to go away."
Steele patted his daughter's hand. "I'm sure she's just worried and a little frightened. I'll go talk to her." He leaned forward to regard Katie intently. "How are you holding up, Sweetling?" he asked softly.
Katie's clear, blue eyes were filled with concern but it wasn't for herself.
"I'm fine, Daddy. I'm worried about Brian though."
Steele nodded his understanding. "We all were."
Katie shook her head. "No. I mean I'm worried about him now. He won't come out of his room and he won't let me in. He won't talk to me."
That was unusual, Steele had to admit. His children were one of the few pairs of siblings he'd seen who didn't constantly bicker and argue. In fact, Brian adored his older sister and usually did anything he could to please her. For her part, Katie had always considered herself Brian's second mother. She doted on her little brother. For her to be worried was normal. For Brian to shut her out was not. Steele leaned over and planted a kiss on the top of his daughter's dark hair.
"It's probably nothing," he assured her. "But I'll go see if I can talk to him."
"Thanks, Daddy." Katie gave him a grateful smile.
He found Trina first. As he headed upstairs he saw her sitting at the top of the landing, her fingers laced around her ankles and her chin resting on her knees. She didn't acknowledge him as he sat down beside her. She was younger than Katie, not quite twelve yet, and that slight difference in age seemed enormous at the moment. While Katie appeared such a young lady, Trina was still very much a little girl. Maybe it was just because she was hurting so much right now. She seemed very small and vulnerable. He reached out and tugged gently at the long, black braid that hung down her back.
"Don't keep it all inside, Angel," he began softly, using her pet name. "That only makes it worse."
"Did you find Mom and Dad yet?" she asked without looking up.
"No, not yet," he answered with a sigh. "That's the problem with getting away from it all. Makes it damned difficult for people to find you."
He saw a slight smile play at the corners of Trina's mouth but when she finally turned to meet his gaze, it was gone.
"What's going to happen to Danny?" she asked, her big, blue eyes haunted by what he might tell her.
Now it was Steele's turn to look away.
"I wish I knew," he replied honestly. "We'll know more after they call with their demands."
Trina laid her forehead against her knees and Steele put an arm around her and held her close.
"We'll get him back, Trina," he promised. "Try not to worry."
"I'll try," she said in a muffled voice. She raised her head and gave him a rueful smile. "Did Katie tell you I was mean to her?"
Steele shook his head kindly. "She's just worried about you. She knows you didn't mean anything. In fact, if you want to see her, she's down in the den."
"Okay," Trina said and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Uncle Remington. I love you."
"I love you too, Angel," he told her and watched her trot down the stairs. That was one crisis averted, now he needed to deal with Brian. He got up slowly, and wondered if it was because he was nearly fifty years old or just because he'd reached his maximum of stress and anxiety today.
The door to his son's room was closed and he rapped on it quietly in case Brian was sleeping. There was no answer so he reached for the knob and opened the door just enough to poke his head in.
Brian wasn't asleep. He was standing in front of the mirror over his dresser, staring at his reflection as if in a trance.
"Brian?" Steele spoke softly so as not to startle the boy.
Brian scowled for a moment before he turned to see who had come in. He didn't say anything but moved over to flop down on his bed and lay with his face buried in his pillow. Steele came the rest of the way into the room and walked over to sit on the side of the bed. He didn't say anything for a moment. Laura was usually the one to come in and comfort their son when he was upset.
"Your mother called," he finally said when it was clear Brian wasn't going to initiate conversation. "Fred's going to be fine."
Brian's shoulders heaved with a heartfelt sigh. "I'm glad," he mumbled into the pillow. "I was worried about him."
"I know you were," Steele said. "We all were. Maggie's going to stay with him at the hospital for a while." Steele paused and decided to try another track. "Right now I'm worried about you, Mate."
Brian finally rolled over to regard his father quizzically.
"Me? I'm fine. I didn't get hurt."
"Not physically, no," Steele agreed. "But maybe in some other ways."
Brian stared at him blankly. "What do you mean?"
"Seeing what happened to Danny, then finding Fred like that... all those things must have been frightening." Brian turned away from him to face the wall. "It's all right to be scared, Son," he continued, since he seemed to have found the right area of concern. "In fact, it's very normal."
Brian got up and walked back over to the mirror. He stood there looking at himself for a long, silent moment. "I really don't look like you, do I?" he asked quietly.
Steele watched his son and wondered where all this was leading. "No, not really... you do look very much like your mother."
"But Danny looks like you," Brian continued.
"Danny looks like his mother. Have you ever considered that?" Brian shook his head slightly and Steele smiled. "Maybe Danny wonders why he doesn't look like his father. In any case there's nothing either one of you can do to change the way you look. I'm afraid you're stuck the way you are."
Brian studied his reflection intently. "Dad... do you think those men would've believed me if I told them I was the one they wanted?"
Steele was taken aback at that. Was that what was bothering his son so much? "I don't know... perhaps. Why?"
Brian turned an anguished face to his father. "Dad... I..." He stopped and waged a struggle against the tears that were filling his eyes. "Dad... I could've told them... I knew they wanted me... I..." He swallowed hard. "When that man threw the picture down... I knew they thought they had me. I should've said something... I should've told them... I could've saved Danny but I didn't. I was too chicken... that one had a knife... I was a big coward."
"Brian..." Steele began but his son interrupted him.
"No, Dad. I was." He turned back to the glass and his voice was barely audible. "Part of me was even glad it was Danny and not me. I sat there and let them take him."
Steele rose up from the bed and came to stand behind his son, his hands on the boy's shoulders. He could see Brian's tear-streaked face in the mirror. "What do you think would have happened if you'd done that?" he asked gently.
Brian shrugged. "They would've let Danny go and taken me."
Steele shook his head. "You don't know that, Son. They might have just taken you both. Or they might have hurt Danny so he couldn't identify them. Right now Danny's safe because they think he's you."
"But I was still a coward," Brian insisted. "You wouldn't have just sat there and let them take your best friend. You wouldn't have been scared."
"I think you have the wrong idea about me," Steele informed him. "There have been plenty of times I've been scared to death. Don't you think I was terrified when I thought something had happened to you?" He turned Brian around to face him. "Don't you think I'm still scared about Danny?"
"But, Dad..."
"No," Steele interrupted him firmly. "You're not a coward, Brian. You're a nine year old boy who's had something terrible happen. But we'll get through it... you'll see."
Brian held his gaze for a long time then he threw his arms around Steele's neck. "You really think Danny'll be okay?" he asked in a small voice.
"Of course he will, Son. Of course he will," Steele assured the boy and hoped to hell he was right.
When Laura came in and found him, Remington was sitting at the top of the stairs. He sat unmoving, his clasped hands hanging loosely between his legs. As she stood and looked up at him, for a moment he seemed no different than he had eighteen years ago when she'd first met him. Time had been kind to him. His dark hair had just begun to show some slight silver, his face nearly as youthful as she remembered it then; time and experience had only made him more attractive. But the moment passed and he seemed to have aged suddenly. Worry and fear added years to his countenance. She walked up the steps and sat down next to him, slipping her arm through his and taking his hand.
He seemed to pull himself back from someplace far away and turned to give her a slight smile. "How's Fred?" he asked.
"He's got a concussion. They want to watch him for a few days but he should be okay. He feels pretty bad about everything."
"I hope you told him how ludicrous that is. The blackguards hit him from behind. Nothing he could have done."
"You and I know that but he says the boys were his responsibility and he should have been able to do something."
Remington chuckled wryly. "He sounds just like our son."
"Brian?" Laura asked in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"He thinks he's to blame since they meant to take him. Thinks he should have spoken up."
Laura breathed out a heavy sigh. "Maybe I should go talk to him."
Remington squeezed her hand to keep her beside him. "I already did. I think it helped a little but nothing's going to be completely normal again. Brian's had to ask himself some pretty tough questions... questions about courage and being a man."
Laura gave him a skeptical look. "He's only a little boy. Nine years old seems awfully young to have to go through the rites of manhood."
Remington regarded her kindly. "Your little boy is growing up my dear one. I'll admit he is a bit young but that doesn't matter now. This thing happened and he's got to get through it. I think he'll make it."
Laura sighed again and leaned her head against him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her close. They sat that way, each drawing solace from the other, until the shrill ring of the telephone brought them both abruptly to their feet. Laura raced down the stairs only slightly behind her husband.
The den on the main floor had been set up as the operating center for the police. Mitchell met them at the door as they entered.
"Take it easy," he advised. "Keep it calm but be sure you make them put Danny... uh, Brian... on the phone."
Remington nodded, squeezing Laura's hand once more before he released his hold on her. She heard his deep, calming breath before he strode over purposefully to answer the phone. Laura realized then that she was holding her own breath and she let it out slowly, trying to calm herself down.
Remington picked up the receiver and the recorders clicked on. "Steele here," he said crisply into the telephone. There was an agonizingly long pause and then Laura saw all the tension go out of her husband's body and he eased his lean frame into the chair behind the desk. "Cait," he breathed out. "Yes, Luv... we have been trying to get in touch with you."
Laura suddenly felt weak-kneed and gratefully took the seat Mitchell brought for her, hardly registering the conversation between Remington and his sister. She hadn't realized before exactly how wound up she was. She supposed they would go through this every time the phone rang. She didn't know how long she sat there, half-listening to Remington's one-sided conversation. She didn't realize he'd hung up until he came over to once more take her hand.
"They're catching the next flight out," he informed her dully and she could see all this was taking its toll on him as well. He stood next to her in silence for a long moment until suddenly he whirled and slammed his hand against the wall. "Damn! I feel so bloody helpless!" he exploded.
Startled out of her haze, Laura rose up out of her chair and went to him. She took his arm and turned him toward her. Without a word, he took her into an embrace, soaking up the only comfort they could give each other. Laura closed her eyes and held him tight.
Danny awoke abruptly when someone grabbed his shirt to haul him to his feet. Sleepy and disoriented, he stumbled along into the main room, blinking confusedly in the suddenly bright light.
"C'mon, Kid," a man growled. It sounded like the same voice who had brought him his lunch. "We're gonna put in a call to your old man."
Fear brought Danny wide awake and froze him to the spot. As soon as they called Uncle Remington they would know who he was and then it would all be over.
"Move it!" the man ordered harshly and nearly yanked Danny off his feet. "I don't want any trouble outta you." He produced a long knife from somewhere and it gleamed in the light. "Is that clear?" he asked with a low laugh.
Danny couldn't speak but he managed to nod his head. His legs felt like rubber but somehow he kept them moving as he followed his captor into the kitchen.
A second man looked up as they entered. He was sitting at a small table and holding a telephone. He seemed cleaner than the first one and he smiled as they came into the room. Danny decided maybe he wasn't quite as bad as the man who held him.
"I see you're still in one piece," he commented and then gave his accomplice an aggrieved look. "Put the blade away, for Heaven's sake. I swear, sometimes you overdo it. I saw you pull that thing on the other kid."
"It gets the point across," the man argued but closed the knife up and slipped it into his pocket. Danny breathed a little easier as he was guided to a chair across from the second man and pushed into it.
"Now listen to me," the kinder one told him. His voice was stern but not terrifying as his partner's was. "We're going to call your father. No doubt he'll want to talk to you. No funny stuff, you hear? Just tell him you're okay."
Danny nodded slowly and swallowed hard. He wasn't sure what this man would do when he found out he didn't have the right boy. Hopefully he wouldn't turn his friend with the knife loose.
Brian wasn't convinced. He knew his dad had been trying to make him feel better but he also knew he should have done something to help his cousin. Those men had let him go and he was a witness. Brian's logic told him that if they knew he was the one they really wanted, they would let Danny go. If only there was a way he could trade places with his cousin... but he didn't know how. He stayed in his room mulling the situation over until hunger drove him downstairs.
He barely recognized his home. Everywhere he turned he kept running into people he had never seen before. He assumed they were police officers working on the case. Most of the activity centered around the den, so after making himself a sandwich, he headed there.
He stood in the doorway surveying all the equipment until Lieutenant Harris spotted him and beckoned him to the desk. "I brought some books over for you to go through," the officer told him and gestured for Brian to take his seat. "Save you the hassle of going to the station."
Brian sat down and gingerly opened the first thick book of photos. He supposed no one ever took a good mug shot but these men all seemed exceptionally seedy. He shivered once but told himself they were only pictures. Soon he was munching on his peanut butter and jelly sandwich and flipping slowly through the books.
He glanced up when his father came in and stood looking over his shoulder.
"Find anything yet?" Remington asked.
Brian shook his head and went back to studying the pictures.
"Hopefully they'll be in there and... Peanut butter?" Remington interrupted himself with an exaggerated expression of distaste.
Brian had to laugh. This was a long standing battle between them. His father was forever waging a war against what he considered junk food but Brian sided with his mother on this issue. He knew his father wasn't really angry. As if reading his mind, Remington smiled and tousled Brian's hair.
"I give up," he said throwing his hands into the air.
The telephone chose that moment to ring and at once all trace of levity was gone from Remington's face. Brian tensed as well as he watched his father reach for the phone. They'd been waiting all day for the kidnappers to call. Each time the telephone rang only made the waiting worse.
"Steele here."
Danny watched the man punch in the number, his heart thumping wildly with each jab of the man's finger. It seemed like an eternity passed while they waited for the signal to go through and ring the other end of the line. He sat on the edge of his chair, completely still, as the man came to attention. Obviously someone had answered.
"Listen carefully," the man began intently. "We got your kid. You do what we tell you and you can have him back." There was a long pause and Danny held his breath, waiting for everything to come out.
"Yeah, yeah, he's fine," the man went on and Danny let his breath out in confusion. Surely Uncle Remington had told the man about their mistake. "Yeah, I thought you'd want to talk to him. Only for a minute though." The man held the phone out to Danny. "No funny stuff, remember," he cautioned.
Danny reached out, took the receiver and very timidly put it to his ear. "Hello..." he began in a quiet and trembling voice.
"Brian, Brian... I'm so glad to hear you." It was definitely Uncle Remington but why was he calling him Brian? "Listen, Son... I know this is all very frightening. Just tell me you're all right."
"I'm okay," Danny replied. "But..."
"That's a relief, Brian," Remington interrupted him before he could ask any questions. "We're all worried... Your cousin, Danny is very worried."
For one brief moment Danny was totally confused, then it suddenly became clear. Uncle Remington knew about the mix up. He was trying to tell Danny to go along with it. Danny sagged with relief.
"I'm okay, Dad," he answered, hoping that would let his uncle know he understood and would play the game.
"I'm glad, Son," Remington continued and Danny could actually hear the relief in his uncle's voice. Obviously he wasn't the only one who had been worried about the kidnappers' mistake. "Keep your chin up for a while longer. We're going to get you home in..."
"That's enough," the man at the table interrupted and yanked the phone out of Danny's hand. "Satisfied?" he asked into the receiver. "Okay then. We've been on this line too long. We'll call you in one hour with your instructions." Without another word he hung up and looked at Danny. "Very good," he announced with a smile. "If everything else goes that smoothly, we'll be in the money and you'll get to go home."
Matthew Kent whistled happily along with the radio as he drove down the San Diego Freeway on his way to Long Beach. Everything was going without a hitch. Brody and Havers had come very highly recommended and they seemed to be worth the money he'd promised to pay them. They nabbed the Steele kid without any problems and started the ball rolling on setting up a meeting to supposedly exchange the boy for a ransom.
As far as Kent was concerned, those two could keep the money. They'd earned it and he didn't want it. It wasn't Steele's money he was after. He grinned as he pictured the look on the detective's face when he realized the whole thing had been a set up. That would just be the beginning. He had plans for Mr. Remington Steele. The big shot detective would pay for putting Kent's father in jail.
He'd waited a long time... nearly seventeen years. He'd only been a kid himself when Steele had broken up Kent's father's cocaine operation. In the resulting bust, a police officer had been killed and that had sealed the elder Kent's fate. No short sentence, no chance at early parole... no father for an eight year old kid. He scowled at the memories that still played so vividly in his mind, even after all these years.
He remembered his mother crying at night... he remembered the teasing of the other kids because his old man was in jail... the nights he laid awake listening to the men's voices from the other room as his mother tried to make a living for them. All that pain lived in his heart and grew into hate. Not for his father but for the man he felt had caused it... Remington Steele.
Those memories fueled the fire of his vengeance now and he chuckled to himself as he pulled into the narrow driveway of the small, rundown bungalow where they'd stashed the kid. This was going to be sweet.
Brody let him in and quickly shut the door. The house was old and dirty, not unlike many of the places Kent had lived himself as a child. It was fitting that Steele's own son should end up here.
"Where is he?" Kent asked, looking around the sparsely furnished living room.
Havers, seated on a moth-eaten sofa, jerked his head in the direction of a closed door. It was obviously a bedroom.
"He been any trouble?"
Havers merely shook his head but Brody laughed loudly. "Naw... too scared to try anything."
"He did just what we told him," Havers said. "We gave Steele your instructions. Everything should go smoothly."
"I'm counting on it," Kent told them. He glanced down at his watch. It was just after eight o'clock. They had five more hours until their scheduled meeting with Steele. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, savoring the anticipation. He'd waited all this time and now it was down to a few hours. It was an exhilarating feeling.
Brian sat on the edge of his bed and waited. His room was dark except for the moonlight shining in softly from the window. He'd gone to bed on schedule but shortly thereafter had gotten up and redressed. He knew enough about his parents' business to don a dark tee shirt along with his blue jeans. He even had a pair of black Nike's to complete his night attire. Now he sat holding his flashlight tightly and listening to the thumping of his heart. If anyone had any idea of what he was up to, they would never let him go. He knew that very well. He also knew he had to go. He owed this to Danny.
He'd been sitting in the den, still going through the mug shots, when the kidnappers called back with the instructions for tonight. Everyone in the room had been too busy to pay much attention to him but he'd listened intently to everything. His father was to meet them alone at one o'clock in Griffith Park. While all the adults were busy making their plans, Brian made his own. He was going along to make sure Danny got back. If, for some reason, something went wrong, Brian wanted to be there to show himself to the men, to convince them they had the wrong boy and make an exchange. He didn't know what would happen after that. He didn't want to think about it.
He glanced down at his watch. The numbers glowed red in the darkness. It was just about midnight... time he started. He needed to sneak out and get down to the garage without being seen. He grabbed up his dark windbreaker and the black stocking cap he'd found in his father's dresser. He'd been afraid his light hair might give him away. He slipped it on his head and tiptoed over to the window.
He knew he'd never make it if he went through the house. Cautiously, he lifted up the window, keeping an eye out the whole time to see if any stray police might be outside guarding them. When he got it all the way up, he stopped and waited. When no alarm was raised, he let loose the rope ladder they each kept in their bedrooms for use in case of fire or other emergency. Well, he told himself, this was definitely an emergency and he ducked out.
It was a warm night and Brian was sweating as he carefully made his way down the unsteady ladder. He was glad his room was over the dining room and not the den where most of the activity was going on. Hopefully no one would bother checking up on him during the night. He'd stuffed some pillows under his blankets just in case but he knew they wouldn't pass a close inspection.
He made it to the ground and stopped for a moment to get his bearings and to let his legs steady a bit. He glanced back up to see how far he'd climbed and nearly cried out in dismay. There was no way to get the rope down. It hung against the side of the house, clearly obvious in the moonlight. He'd forgotten all about that detail when he planned his escape.
He glanced around but saw no one. There was nothing he could do about it now. He would have to leave it. He just prayed no one would notice until he was already gone. Taking a deep breath, he trotted across the lawn toward the garage.
The night was clear and breezy. The last vestiges of a Santa Ana wind made it warm, even this late. Driving the winding road that led up into the wilderness side of Griffith Park, Steele took no notice of the weather. He gripped the steering wheel intently, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror often. He could see no one behind him but the kidnappers were probably already at the rendezvous site.
He'd followed their instructions to the letter. A quarter of a million dollars in small bills were packed in two briefcases in the trunk. He was to meet them at the end of the road that led up to Mount Hollywood at one o'clock to make the exchange. Steele had promised to be alone, no police. With only this one road up the hill, any kind of a covert back-up would have been too easy to spot. He was on his own but Mitchell had hidden a homing bug in the cases and he had every road out of the park staked out. Hopefully the exchange would go smoothly and Steele could take Danny home. He would let the police worry about catching these men.
It was risky. There was no way to guarantee they wouldn't just kill him and Danny and take the money anyway. He didn't know if he could trust them to keep their end of the bargain. He only knew he had to do as they instructed. He couldn't take any chance with Danny's life.
He thought of his sister... what Cait and Andy must be going through to be so far away and not be able to get here any faster, knowing that even if they did, there wasn't anything they could do. He thought of Laura... how hard it was for her to sit home and not come with him. He'd had half a mind to double check the car to be sure she hadn't stowed away but he knew she would stay home. She wouldn't take that chance with Danny either and she knew their own children would need her if something did happen.
His own children... God, when had he become so responsible? He remembered a life, long ago... reckless, unfettered, no ties. When had he given that all up? But he knew. The moment he made the decision not to get on that plane and follow the Royal Lavulite, he had turned his back on one life and taken the first steps on an entirely different path. It hadn't been an easy transition... for either Laura or himself. Those early years together had been rocky to say the least but, looking back, he knew he wouldn't have changed anything. He only hoped that when he kissed her tonight upon leaving, it wasn't for the last time.
The road had gotten steeper and he slowed down, knowing he was coming to the end. He turned his headlights up to bright and peered over the wheel. When he saw the car parked sideways across the road, he brought his own vehicle to a stop. Someone got out and waved him forward, over to the side. He pulled over and killed the engine.
The man had a kerosine lantern in his hand and he held it up high and beckoned to Steele. With slow, deliberate movements, Steele opened the door and got out. The man came forward to hold the light up to the window and check the interior. Steele could finally see a gun in his other hand.
"I'm alone," he advised the man.
"Just makin' sure," he growled. He turned around and swung the lantern high.
It was apparently a signal, for the doors opened and two other figures emerged. It was too dark to see their faces. Steele stood and waited for them to come into the light. He studied each in turn but could recognize neither. The one with the lantern must have been Brian's assailant, judging from his height and his narrow, gaunt face.
"Glad to see you follow instructions," one of them spoke up softly, almost pleasantly.
As far as Steele could tell in the dimness, the man was young, mid-twenties maybe. He seemed to be in charge as the other two deferred to him.
"Where's Brian?" Steele asked coolly.
"Where's the cash?" the man with the lantern asked sharply and the younger man held up a warning hand to his associate.
"Let's keep it friendly, why don't we?" he advised, still in that same pleasant tone of voice. He gestured to the third man, the shortest of the three. "Show him the boy."
He nodded silently and walked back to the car. He opened the back door and reached inside to pull Danny out. Steele could see the boy standing in front of the man but couldn't see well enough to make out his features. It looked like his hands were bound.
"Are you all right, Brian?" Steele called from where he stood.
"I'm okay," came Danny's frightened voice, still together enough to keep playing along.
"What about the money?" the tall one asked again.
Steele jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the trunk and held up his keys with his other hand. The man grabbed them and marched to the back of the car. It was quiet as he fumbled for the right key and worked at the lock. The only sounds were the rustle of the breeze through the trees and the steady rhythm of crickets. It seemed like an eternity as he and the man in charge stood and regarded each other and waited for the trunk to open. "What's the problem?" the young man asked his henchman after a time.
"Damn thing seems to be stuck," he grumbled as he still fiddled with the key.
The man's eyes narrowed as he stared at Steele but he didn't say anything. Steele wondered what was wrong with the lock. They'd never had any trouble before.
"Got it," the man finally announced and raised up the lid. "Here's the loot, right like he said and... Damn it!" He jumped and hit his head on the trunk lid. "What the hell..."
Steele turned to see what was wrong. There shouldn't have been anything amiss back there. He put the cases in himself.
"What's going on, Steele?" the head man asked in a threatening tone. He held a gun out menacingly.
"Nothing," Steele assured him. "I don't know what..."
"What in the hell?" The man with the lantern reached into the trunk and pulled out a dark, struggling bundle.
Steele's heart nearly stopped. He'd never seriously thought Laura might be in there. As the man brought his burden over to them and set it on its feet, Steele suddenly knew it wasn't Laura. He felt his stomach lurch like someone had kicked him as the man pulled off the stocking cap and held up the light to reveal Brian.
He should have seen this coming. He damned his own lack of foresight. Even so, he had to give his son credit. He faced them all defiantly in spite of how frightened Steele knew he must be.
"It's the other kid from the park," the tall man declared.
"What kid?" his boss asked sharply.
"There were two of 'em," his accomplice explained defensively. "You said you just wanted the Steele kid so we left the other one there. But this is him."
"What the hell is going on here, Steele?" the young man demanded in a low voice. "If you've gone and done anything stupid..."
Steele knew all too well what was going on but he had to think fast to try and explain his son's presence. He reached out to take Brian's arm, meaning to draw him close but the lantern man had a firm grip and wouldn't let go.
"This is my nephew, gentlemen," he told them in what he hoped was a light tone. "I didn't know he meant to come with me but he was only worried about his cousin. I assure you, he'll be no trouble."
"I'm sure he won't," the man in charge snarled. Gone was his pleasantness. He turned to yell back over his shoulder. "Put that kid back in the car," he ordered.
"Wait..." Steele started to protest.
"You can't do that!" Brian interrupted abruptly. "You guys must be pretty stupid," he shouted and Steele knew he was yelling to cover up his fear.
"Brian," he hissed under his breath, trying to get his son's attention without alerting their captors. "Be quiet." He was afraid of what Brian might say but his son either didn't hear him or chose to ignore him.
"You can't even kidnap the right kid," Brian continued defiantly. "You don't have Brian Steele. I'm Brian Steele."
Steele's heart sank at his son's statement. It was bravely spoken but it might have just ruined any chance they had of getting out of this. The tall man held the light closer to Brian's face and studied him carefully. The man in charge made a growling sound in his throat then shouted again.
"Get over here, Havers," he ordered. It was the first time any of them had called another by name.
Havers trotted back over to face his boss's wrath.
"You know about all this?" he asked evenly and Havers nodded his head.
"We didn't think you'd want both kids. The other one is the spitting image. What were we supposed to do?"
"You were supposed to do what I was paying you to do, not screw it all up."
Steele's eyes darted between them as they continued their argument. This wasn't going well at all and he wondered if the two henchmen could hear the menace in their chief's voice as plainly as he could.
"Doesn't matter much now," Havers was saying. "It worked. We got the money, whichever kid we took."
"Money!" the young man screeched. "You think I care about the money. I don't give a damn about the money." He was ranting now and waving his gun wildly.
Steele took the opportunity to pull on Brian. Preoccupied with other things, the lantern man let go. Steele discreetly pushed his son behind him.
"Not another word!" he whispered fiercely and prayed Brian would listen to him.
"You're a crazy bastard, Kent," Havers declared in contempt. "What did you do all this for if you didn't want the money?"
Kent's face went livid in the lantern light. Without a word, he fired. The shot rang through the night air. Steele felt Brian's startled jump behind him as Havers crumpled into a heap.
"What the hell..." the tall man began but then his face changed as he realized his position. "Hey, Kent... I didn't do anything... I..."
The gun fired again. The man stood for a moment, staring at Kent with disbelief. Then one hand clutched at his abdomen and the other let the lantern drop to the ground only a second before he staggered backward and fell.
Steele's blood was racing. He heard Brian make a small, frightened sound. He might have tried to take the man if it weren't for the boys, but things being what they were, he worked hard at keeping his face passive as he watched him walk over and pick up the lantern.
"Pity," he said as he shook his head over his fallen men. "They did so well up till now." His voice was once again calm and conversational.
"What is it you want?" Steele asked evenly.
"You," Kent said simply, his gun held unwaveringly at Steele.
"You've got me," Steele said, hoping he could be reasoned with. "Why don't you let the boys go?"
Kent laughed. "No way. They're part of this." He glanced over at the bodies. "I guess Havers was right. It doesn't really matter which one is your kid. They'll both do." He laughed again then held the weapon a little higher and gestured to his car. "Over there... both of you."
With nothing else to be done, Steele took Brian by the shoulders and walked the short distance. "Hold it," Kent ordered. He reached inside the front seat and produced a thick roll of duct tape. He shoved it at Brian. "Tape your old man's wrists together," he demanded sharply.
Brian glanced up at Steele questioningly. Steele gave him a small nod. His young hands were trembling as he worked at the tape, trying to find the free end.
"Come on, come on," Kent snapped harshly and slapped the back of Brian's head.
Steele controlled his urge to leap at the man to the barest twitch. It was not lost on their captor. He held the gun up to the side of Brian's head.
"Now, now, Mr. Private Detective," he cautioned with a grin on his face. "Not in front of the children."
With no other choice, Steele put his wrists together and held them out for Brian to tape. After he had been securely bound, Kent came up and brought the gun under Steele's nose.
"We're going to go for a little ride now," he informed them. He took a step back and waved Steele into the back seat. "You get in. I'm keeping Junior here up front with me... just so there's no monkey business." He shoved Brian toward the open front door.
Steele did as he was told and ducked down to slide in. Kent slammed the door shut after him and then closed Brian's as well.
"Dad..." Brian began but Steele hushed him.
"Keep still now, Son. We'll have to see what his next move is."
"Uncle Remington?" came a whispered voice beside him.
It was dark in the car but Steele could still see Danny cowering in the corner.
"Don't worry, Danny Boy," he whispered back. "We'll make it out of here."
His nephew scooted over closer to him. "I heard the shots," he continued in a ragged voice.
"I know," Remington told him. "We just have to wait a bit and..." He fell silent as Kent got in.
Without saying anything to his prisoners, Kent revved up the engine and started off down the hill. Steele hoped he was planning to take them some place outside the perimeter of the park. They would most certainly run into one of Mitchell's road blocks. Any kind of outside confrontation was bound to give them some edge on escaping.
It was three o'clock in the morning but sleep was the furthest thing from Laura's mind. Waiting had never been her strong suit and now she wished more than anything that she could have gone with Remington. At least then she would know what was going on. But the kidnappers had been explicit in demanding he be the one to deliver the ransom... alone. And so she stayed behind and dealt with the anxiety of waiting. It wasn't easy.
Of course there had been plenty going on here to keep her occupied. Not long after Remington left, Caitlin and Andy arrived in the squad car Mitchell provided to bring them from the airport. Frantic about their son, they had to be filled in on what was happening. Hearing the commotion, the girls came down from their rooms. Laura had finally gotten Katie back to bed but no amount of persuasion could get Trina to leave her parents so Cait had at last gone up, promising to lay down with her, leaving Andy deep in a discussion with the lieutenant about tonight's plans.
Laura had thought it odd that Brian hadn't come down as well. She considered going up to check on him but, remembering her discussion with Remington earlier about what he was going through, decided against it. She would leave him to himself for tonight. There would be time for talking later, after Danny was home safe. With nothing left for her to do, she wandered out onto the ballroom terrace to keep her vigil.
"Miss Holt?"
Laura smiled softly. Besides Remington's occasional playful use of her maiden name, there was really only one person who still called her that. She turned to see Mildred standing in the open french doors, two steaming mugs in her hands.
"You should be in bed, Mildred," Laura said in a gently reproving voice.
"I thought you could use some coffee," her old friend explained as she came over to stand beside her. Laura took one of the cups from her. "Besides, I'm not so old yet that I can't stay up worrying about the Boss."
"Thanks," Laura said with a grateful smile. She took a small sip of the hot liquid. "I don't think I'll be very good company."
Mildred shrugged. "I didn't come out here for conversation." She reached out and squeezed Laura's hand. "Just thought you might need somebody, Honey."
"Thanks, Mildred," Laura repeated then turned her eyes up to gaze at the clear, star filled night and sighed. "I just wish it was all over."
"I'm afraid it's just gotten worse."
Laura turned at Mitchell's grim voice. He stood in the doorway, his head nearly brushing the top of the frame. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"We can't find Brian," the lieutenant informed her.
"What do you mean? He's in his room... asleep."
Mitchell shook his head slowly. "'Fraid not. One of my men saw a rope ladder hanging out his window. We went up and checked. Looks like he ran away. Stuffed a bunch of pillows under his sheets."
Laura hardly heard the last statement as she raced past him. He followed after her, his long strides keeping him right behind.
"He's not there, Laura," Mitchell insisted as she headed upstairs. "We already checked."
It didn't matter. She had to see for herself. She burst into her son's room and stood there, taking in its emptiness.
"I told you he was gone," the lieutenant stated emphatically. "I've got my men checking the grounds but we don't know how long ago he left. We were looking for people getting in not going out. Is there anywhere he might go?"
Laura felt her heart sink. She knew very well where Brian was. "Call off your search, Mitch," she told him in a quiet voice. "He's not here. He went with Remington."
"What?" Now it was the lieutenant's turn to stare at her in disbelief.
Laura nodded grimly. "He's been upset about letting them take Danny in his place. He probably thought he could make up for it by trading places."
"Oh God!" Mitchell breathed out.
Laura sank down on Brian's bed and buried her head in her hands and echoed Mitchell's sentiment.
Steele didn't know how long they'd been driving. He'd been able to keep track of where they were until Kent turned off on some dirt road. Now he had no idea where they were headed, though he was certain they hadn't left the park.
It was quiet in the car. Kent hadn't said anything else to them and when Steele tried to question him, he'd told him to shut up in no uncertain terms. The boys were both silent. Danny had sidled up next to him, his hands taped together the same as Steele's. Though the air was warm, Steele could feel his nephew shiver occasionally. Trying to make as little noise as possible, and maneuvering awkwardly with his owns hands bound, Steele worked at the tape around Danny's wrists. He managed to loosen it somewhat. Up in the front, Brian turned back to look at them once in a while but otherwise was quiet.
Steele wondered what was going through his son's mind. Even though what he'd done tonight had turned out badly, Steele was proud of Brian. He hoped they lived through this so he could tell the boy how courageous he'd been. Laura would be furious of course, but Steele knew that underneath her motherly anger, she would be just as proud.
Laura! Steele closed his eyes as his mind conjured up an image of her and what she must be doing at this moment. Surely by now she'd discovered their son was missing. She would have conducted a thorough search for him. He wondered how long it would take her to realize just where Brian was. If he knew his wife, it wouldn't be long.
She must also know by now that something had gone wrong with the exchange. She would be frantic. What he couldn't be sure of was how long Mitchell would be able to keep her from coming after them. The plan had been to wait until dawn. If he didn't return by then, the police would converge on the meeting place. He thought of the homing devices still snugly in place. Too bad this man had no interest in the money. It would have been a comfort to know someone would be able to find them. All anyone would find now would be his deserted car, the money still there and two dead kidnappers.
He realized they had slowed down and now Kent stopped the car. In the gleam of the headlights, Steele could see a small, rundown shack up ahead. It must have once been some kind of station for the rangers or the city workers who occasionally passed this way. By the looks of it, it had been a long time since anyone had used it.
Kent got out and came around to the other side. He opened Brian's door and pulled the boy roughly out. Even in the dark, Steele could still see the man's gun pointed at his son's head.
"Out," Kent ordered crisply.
Steele opened his door, a bit awkwardly with his hands bound, and climbed out of the car.
"The kid too," Kent barked.
Steele leaned his head down. "Come on, Danny," he said encouragingly.
Danny slid across the seat and got out, stumbling a bit on cramped and weary legs. Steele reached down to steady him.
Kent pushed Brian away from him, toward Steele. "Okay... all of you, into my office." He waved them toward the shack.
With the boys going ahead, they staggered up the dark, rocky path. It was easier for Brian who had his hands free. Steele and Danny struggled along the best they could. When they finally reached the door, Kent came up from behind and pushed it open. He reached his free hand inside and fumbled at the wall for a moment then he stopped and flicked a switch. Light flooded out from inside the building where Steele could see a lone bulb hanging from a chain on the ceiling.
"Inside," Kent told them and they filed in. He shut the door and motioned to the boys. "You two... go sit in the corner."
Brian glanced over at Steele. He nodded. Kent noted the exchange. "You do what I say, Kid!" he exploded. He shoved Brian over toward where Danny had already taken refuge. "Your old man doesn't count anymore."
Steele remained silent. Brian wasn't hurt and it was best not to antagonize this man. He watched his son sit down cross-legged on the floor beside his cousin then Steele turned back to face Kent.
"Do I get to learn now why you've gone to such great lengths to take us prisoner?" he asked calmly.
Kent smiled. "Why not? You're not going anywhere and nobody's ever going to find you." He stepped up closer to Steele. "For starters... the name's Kent, Matthew Kent. Mean anything to you?"
Steele shook his head.
Kent shrugged. "Didn't think so. How 'bout Bruce Kent?"
Steele searched his memory for something but came up blank. "Could you give me a clue?" he asked conversationally.
Kent's eyes narrowed, obviously considering if he should get angry. "Think back about seventeen years, Mr. Private Detective. Hot shot Remington Steele busts a cocaine ring. Big news... it made all the papers."
Steele thought hard but knew it would be nearly futile. Seventeen years ago he was still content to let Laura do most of the work on their cases. What was he talking about, "let"? He was lucky then if Laura even told him what they were supposed to be working on. Back then he was Remington Steele in name only. It wasn't something he could explain to this man. Even if he tried, Kent would never believe him.
"You still can't remember, huh?" Kent asked, anger sounding loud and clear.
"I am sorry," Steele apologized sincerely. "It's been so long and there've been so many cases since then."
Kent was silent for a moment, his face full of barely controlled rage. When he did finally speak, it was in short, clipped sentences.
"Too many, huh? Just can't remember? Well, maybe I can help jog your memory."
Steele saw the blow coming. As Kent swung at him with the gun, he tried to step backward, doing his best to avoid it. The barrel glanced off his jaw and hit his cheekbone. The impact sent him reeling but he managed to keep his balance in spite of the dizzying pain. Kent grabbed his taped hands and pulled him forward again.
"Did that help at all?" he asked harshly.
Steele didn't speak. Even if he'd wanted to, he didn't think he could open his mouth. He could already detect the coppery taste of blood.
He wasn't ready for the next strike, a hard-driven fist to his abdomen that doubled him over, gasping for breath... and he never even saw Kent bring the gun down on the back of his head. He felt the white, searing pain shoot through his skull like a small lightening bolt. The room swam before his eyes and the light dimmed as he pitched forward. Unable to break his fall, his face hit the wooden floor boards with a dull thud.
"How's your memory now?"
Kent's voice was right at his ear and Steele flinched at its intensity. His attacker must have knelt down beside him. He opened his eyes and tried to focus but there were three Kent's swimming before his blurred vision. With a concentrated effort, Steele managed to push himself up onto his knees. He squinted up at Kent.
"What do you want?" he asked thickly, his breath coming hard. Kent smiled maliciously. "Haven't you figured it out yet? Maybe you're not as bright as everyone thinks you are." He stood and moved over to the corner where Brian and Danny sat. He reached down and took hold of Brian's arm. Hauling him to his feet, Kent dragged the boy over to Steele. He reached out with his free hand and grabbed Steele by the hair. He jerked the detective's head up.
"Look at your old man now, Kid," he told Brian with a laugh. "Not so great anymore, is he?"
Steele looked over at his son. Though his sight was unclear, he could still see the anguish on Brian's face. Somehow he found he was able to lift a corner of his mouth into a very slight smile of encouragement. This only served to enrage Kent. He shoved Brian back toward Danny.
"Sit down and don't move," he ordered sharply. Then he turned back to Steele. "You're going to beg me to stop before I'm done," he threatened.
Steele returned his gaze coolly. "Go to hell."
He knew he would pay for it. The kick landed directly in his stomach. He fell to the floor again, gasping for breath and clutching his middle, but he was given no further time to dwell on this new pain.
Kent continued his assault, each blow accompanied by a recitation of Steele's faults and his father's merits. Steele was hardly aware of what he was saying. Kent's voice soon became a dull droning to his pain-impaired hearing. With his vision blurred, he could barely make out the boys huddled together in the corner, watching in mute terror.
God... don't let him kill me in front of the boys, he prayed silently. Don't make my son have to see this. But the attack went on. Steele was helpless to stop it. His only hope now was that the man would be satisfied with hurting him and leave Brian and Danny alone.
Laura paced the length of the ballroom and waited for dawn. She had run the gambit of emotions during this endless night. Fear, anger, rage... each had run its course until now she was numb. There was nothing to do but wait. Letting her feelings rule her head would accomplish nothing.
When they discovered Brian was missing, she'd wanted to race up the mountain but she restrained herself. She couldn't help her son or her husband if she fouled up the plans for the exchange but, as the hours dragged by and it became evident that things had not gone as planned, it had taken all Mitchell's powers of persuasion to keep her here. They would stick to the original plan and wait until dawn.
She'd come in here to be alone. She couldn't stay in the den and stare at the telephone like it was going to reveal something... or face the haunted look on Andy's face as he waited for word of his son. Besides, she'd never been the type to just sit around and do nothing. She needed to move... if she could just keep moving. "Laura?"
Her name had been spoken softly but in the empty room it seemed to echo off the walls. She turned to see Caitlin standing just inside the door.
"I hope I'm not intruding," her sister-in-law began hesitantly.
Laura shook her head. "No... not at all." She walked over toward the other woman. "I thought you were asleep."
Cait shook her head. "Trina finally nodded off but I couldn't. I keep thinking..." She paused and shook her head again. "I just couldn't sleep."
Laura sympathized completely. There was no way she would be able to sleep until this whole thing was over.
"Andy told me about Brian," Cait went on. "I'm so sorry."
Laura felt tears well up unexpectedly and she fought to quell them. Caitlin's quiet concern was tearing down the dam she'd built on her emotions and she couldn't afford to let it go right now. She needed to be able to think straight. She took Cait's arm and began walking again... a more leisurely pace this time.
"I should have known he would do that. He was pretty upset."
"Don't blame yourself, Laura," Cait advised her kindly. "No one is to blame for any of this except the devils who took Danny."
Cait's voice had sharpened with her last statement, her Irish brogue suddenly very noticeable. Laura glanced over at her. She was so much like her brother... not just in looks alone but in temperament as well... easy going, loving and caring... but hurt someone they loved and you had better watch out. Laura wished she could say something to make Cait feel better... to give her some thread to cling to, but her own optimism had run out long ago.
"Something's gone wrong, hasn't it?" Cait asked in a quiet voice.
Laura met her gaze and knew it would be useless to try and lie. She turned away. "They should have been back by now. It doesn't take that long to drive up the hill." She felt Cait tense.
"What do we do about it?" she asked
Laura turned back to study her sister-in-law. There were no hysterics, no panicked outbursts... simply that same determination Laura had seen in Remington's face earlier in the day.
"Mitch still says to wait until dawn as planned. He's afraid if we barge in there ahead of schedule, it might make things worse."
"I don't know how it could be any worse," Cait observed. "Both the boys gone and Remington too. If they were going to come back on their own they should have done so already."
"I know," Laura admitted. Then, because there was nothing else she could say, she simply repeated herself. "I know."
Cait stopped walking. "I don't want to lose them, Laura. I don't want to lose them." Her voice was trembling.
Laura had never been overly demonstrative but she didn't hesitate to put her arms around Caitlin comfortingly. Cait returned the embrace. They stood together for a moment, each drawing strength from the other.
"We'll get them back," Laura promised and, for the first time really believed what she was saying.
Brian didn't want to believe what was happening. He sat next to Danny and watched helplessly as Kent continued exacting his savage revenge. His father had long since quit trying to get back up after each blow. He lay unmoving on the floor and the only way Brian knew he wasn't dead was occasionally one of Kent's strikes would elicit a soft groan.
It had to stop. Brian wasn't sure how long it took to beat someone to death but he knew his father couldn't possibly take much more of this abuse. He had to do something... but what? How could he stop this hate-crazed man so obviously bent on killing.
He tore his gaze away from his father and glanced around the small room. There was nothing here except dirt and spiderwebs. Kent hadn't brought anything in from the car except... Brian's eyes widened... except the gun.
It was on the floor where Kent set it in order to have both hands free. Steele was in no shape to do anything and he obviously felt the boys were no threat. If there was a way to get it, Brian might be able to put an end to this. He nudged Danny in the ribs to get his attention. His cousin turned, eyes wide and frightened.
"Danny, look," Brian whispered and pointed at the gun. Danny turned to see what Brian was talking about. The pistol was not more than a few feet from them. "Can you reach it?" he asked hopefully.
Danny held up his taped hands and shook his head. Brian thought for a moment.
"Try your foot," he suggested.
Danny's eyes darted constantly between Kent and the weapon as he slowly stretched out toward it. He was short by a few inches and he turned back to Brian to see what he should do.
Brian had been watching Kent too. The man had forgotten them as he vented his anger.
"Here," he whispered in Danny's ear. "Trade me places. My legs are longer than yours."
Cautiously, his eyes on Kent the entire time, Brian crawled over his cousin and settled back down on the other side of him. Kent didn't notice. He landed a brutal kick against Steele's ribs. Rage only added to Brian's determination. He reached out his leg and felt the pistol under his foot.
Ever so slowly, he dragged the weapon closer, stopping every now and then to be sure Kent wasn't looking in his direction. Eventually the gun was within arms reach. Never taking his eyes off Kent, he leaned over and picked it up.
It was heavier than he thought it would be. He'd never held one before. Even though they were private investigators, his parents didn't believe in using guns. They had none that he knew of in their house. He took it in both his hands and turned toward Kent. He got to his feet and pointed the weapon at his father's attacker.
"Stop right now!" he order and hoped his voice didn't sound as scared as he felt.
Kent glanced over at him for a moment then did a slight double take at the sight of his gun in the boy's hands. His lips curled up in a sneer.
"You're going to hurt yourself, Kid," he said casually. "Put it down."
"You get away from my father," Brian told him defiantly.
"Or what?" Kent snarled. "You going to shoot me?"
Brian nodded once and Kent laughed. He stood up straight and stepped over Steele's still figure.
"Come on, Kid. Give me the gun."
He reached out his hand and took one step toward the boys.
Brian never hesitated. He pulled the trigger, staggering a bit from the recoil, then watched in astonishment as Kent's leg buckled underneath him.
"Damn you!" Kent cursed as he pressed a hand to his thigh and tried to get back up.
"You stay right there or I'll shoot you again," Brian threatened. He gestured to Danny who had risen to stand beside him. "Go get that tape from the car."
Danny once more held out his wrists. Brian held the pistol with one hand and managed to find the end of the silver tape with the other. He gave it a yank and it pulled away reluctantly. After a few moments, his cousin was free. Shaking his hands to get the kinks out, Danny headed out to the car.
From his place on the floor, Kent glared up at Brian.
"It doesn't make much difference now, Kid," he said with a slight sneer. He gestured at Steele. "The damage is done. You won't get him out of here."
"Yes we will," Brian countered determinedly.
"Face it," Kent continued. "He's as good as dead right now."
"Shut up!" Brian ordered and pulled back on the hammer.
Kent fell silent. Danny reappeared with the roll of duct tape. Brian pointed at Kent.
"Tape his hands and feet," he told his cousin. "Make sure his hands are behind him. I don't want him going anywhere until the police find him."
Danny walked over to Kent. He was a bit uneasy at first but, when the man didn't put up a fight, he fell to his task and wrapped the tape securely. Only then did Brian put the gun down and kneel at his father's side.
Remington lay face down on the dirty floor, his clothes torn and covered with dust and blood. Brian very gently rolled him onto his back, unable to hold back a small cry of dismay at what he saw. His father's nose and mouth were bleeding, his face already bruised and swollen.
"Is he alive?" Danny asked, obviously afraid he wasn't.
Brian laid his head down and found his father's heartbeat. He could also detect the faint rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He let out his own breath in relief. "He's alive but I think he's hurt pretty bad." He lay his hand against his father's cheek. "Dad," he called softly. "Dad, can you hear me?"
His only answer was a slight groan. With great care, he removed the tape from his fathers wrists. Danny came over to kneel beside him.
"How we gonna get out of here, Brian? We don't even know where we are."
"That doesn't matter," Brian insisted. "Mom and the police'll be lookin' for us. We just have to get out in the open... find a road or somethin'."
Danny glanced down at Remington's battered body. "But your dad can't walk down the hill."
Brian thought hard for a moment then an idea came to him. "You can drive can't you?"
Danny's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "A little. Grandpa lets me help him drive the tractor."
"A tractor's gotta be harder than a car," Brian concluded confidently. "We'll get Dad out to the car and you can drive us out."
"But..."
"You have to!" he told his cousin firmly. "Dad needs help and it's the only way."
Danny fell silent, whatever doubts he had left unspoken. Brian turned back to his father.
"Dad," he called urgently. "Dad, you gotta wake up." He shook Remington's shoulders gently, trying not to hurt him. "Dad, come on."
"Mmmm... wha...?" One eye fluttered opened, the other already swollen shut. He looked up at the boys with a glassy stare. "Brian?" he asked, his voice thick and he winced with the pain of trying to speak through his injured jaw.
Tears sprang into Brian's eyes when he saw the effort it cost his father just to remain conscious. He wiped at them angrily. He couldn't let himself cry now. There was too much to do.
"Don't talk, Dad," he said soothingly. "We're getting outta here." He glanced at Danny and wondered if the two of them would be able to carry his father. He doubted it. "You're gonna have to help us, Dad," he advised the stricken detective. "Do you think you can get up if we help you?"
It took Remington a moment to register what his son had asked him to do and Brian watched in apprehension as his father slowly nodded.
"Danny, you take that arm," Brian ordered. "I'll get this side." His cousin moved over to help.
It was a struggle. Every move his father made was an agonizing effort and it was all he could do to remain upright, relying heavily on the support of the boys. Brian strained to keep his father on his feet and hoped they would be able to hold out until they got to the car. He heard Kent laugh at them but he ignored him. With any luck, he would soon be in the hands of the police.
They moved slowly, letting Remington shuffle forward step by step. Once outside, the journey was even more precarious... each rock a stumbling block. Brian could hear his father's labored and rasping breaths and his frequent gasps of pain as he walked bent over. He only hoped they weren't hurting him worse by making him move like this.
After what seemed like forever, they made it to the car. Danny opened up the door and they helped Remington to lay across the back seat. Brian climbed in after his father and sat with Remington's head in his lap. Danny reluctantly got behind the wheel, his head barely tall enough to see over the dash.
"No keys," he announced.
Brian sighed in exasperation. "Kent's gotta have 'em. I'll be right back."
He carefully slid out of the seat, so not to hurt his father, then trotted back up to the hut. Kent was still sitting where they had left him. Brian took a deep, steadying breath then walked up to the man. He patted his pockets and found the car keys then turned to go.
"He dead yet?" Kent asked with a laugh and Brian fought the urge to go kick the man in the face.
He walked back to the door and noticed the gun on the floor where he had put it down. He picked it up and took it with him. If Kent somehow got loose, at least he wouldn't be armed. He ran back out to the car and tossed Danny the keys.
"Come on," Brian urged, impatient with his cousin's hesitancy.
"Okay, okay," Danny replied sharply. "I gotta find everything."
The engine at last started up. Danny searched for a moment then found the headlights and flicked them on. The road looked dangerously steep.
"I don't know about this," Danny muttered.
"Just do it," Brian encouraged. "You'll be fine."
"If you say so," Danny replied with little confidence. He put the vehicle in gear and started slowly down the hill.
To Brian in the back seat, the ride seemed bumpier than it had been coming up. He tried to brace his father against the jolts. Once they had gotten him into the car, Remington had passed out again and couldn't complain about any further pain.
"Can't you go any faster?" Brian asked, anxious to be as far away from Kent as possible.
"Not if you want me to stay on the road," Danny answered. "I'm doing the best I can."
"I know," Brian told him apologetically. "I'm just worried about Dad."
They traveled on in silence for a time until Danny suddenly stopped the car.
"What's wrong?" Brian asked in alarm.
"Which way do I go?" Danny asked and pointed to the road ahead. It branched off in two different directions. Neither looked very promising.
Brian craned his neck to see. He had no idea. "Just take one," he advised with a shrug. "They both go down. They gotta run into the main road somewhere."
Danny sighed and headed to the right. The road seemed smoother and he drove a little faster. Brian was relieved. This must be the right way. Soon they would have some help.
"Hang on, Dad," he told his father softly. "We're gonna get home."
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the car lurched to the left and stopped abruptly. Remington groaned at the sudden jolt, even though Brian had tried to hold his father tightly to keep him from moving too much.
"What happened?" he demanded.
"I don't know," Danny replied. "We musta hit a hole or something." He revved the engine but it was no good. The back wheels spun uselessly. "The car won't move."
Brian tried to open his door so he could get out and see what the problem was, but it wouldn't budge. The car was definitely listing to the left. "Can you get out?" he asked his cousin.
Danny tried his door. It scraped loudly as he pushed it open and managed to crawl outside. Brian slipped out from under his father and crawled over the seat to get out through the front. What he saw filled him with bitter disappointment. The left rear wheel was sitting up to the fender in a huge rut. It was obvious they weren't going any further.
"I'm sorry," Danny apologized. He sounded like he was ready to cry. "I didn't see it."
"It's not your fault," Brian consoled him. "You tried your best."
"What do we do now?" Danny asked.
Brian looked around the dark, wooded area. He wished he didn't have to think anymore. He wished his father wasn't hurt so he could take over and make the decisions... he wished his mother or Lieutenant Harris would show up and just take them home. He was tired and scared but he knew it was up to him to get help. No one knew where they were and he didn't think his father could wait much longer.
"Okay, here's the plan." He took a deep breath. "You stay here and take care of Dad. I'm gonna hike out. I'll try and find somebody. They must be looking for us by now."
"What about Kent?" Danny asked nervously.
"He's not going anywhere," Brian assured him. "Besides, he doesn't know where you are." He got into the car and leaned over the seat to reach down into the back. He picked up the pistol and handed it out to Danny. "Just in case," he explained when his cousin looked at him questioningly. Danny took it gingerly. Brian peeled off his windbreaker and laid it over Remington's shoulders. "Take care, Dad," he whispered softly and reached over to stroke his father's dark hair. "I'm gonna get some help for you." He wiped at an errant tear and climbed back out of the car.
"You sure we're doing the right thing?" Danny asked.
"What else can we do?" Brian replied. "Don't worry, I won't be long." He glanced at the car. "Take care of Dad."
"I will," Danny promised and got into the car.
Brian watched him scramble over the seat. Then, gathering up his courage, he started off down the hill.
Dawn broke crisp and clear. Laura stood next to Mitchell's unmarked car and hugged herself against the morning chill. Beside her, Andy and Cait stood waiting. It was quiet except for the occasional static of a police radio. The air was heavy with tension as everyone waited at the main road block for the first team's report. The crunch of gravel turned Laura to see the lieutenant walking toward them.
"Here comes Mitch," she announced and the Travis' both straightened up expectantly.
"Well?" Andy began but Mitchell held up his hand to forestall their questions.
"I'll get right to it," he told them. "It doesn't look good."
Laura's jaw tightened but she kept silent... let him tell it all and then react.
"We found your husband's car. The money's still there. No sign of him or the boys. We did find two dead men by it. They'd been shot at close range. One of them matches the description of Brian's Hollow Faced Man."
Cait leaned into Andy's shoulder, unable to contain her disappointment.
"What does that mean?" Andy asked. "What do we do now?"
"We're not drawing any conclusions yet," the lieutenant answered. "There're signs of another vehicle up there. We'll be combing the area. Nobody came out of the park last night... at least not in a car."
"So we're back to waiting," Laura observed drily.
Mitchell nodded. "We've got helicopters coming and I put in a call for more manpower. We'll find 'em but it may take a while. You folks could wait more comfortably at home."
Laura shook her head. "We'll stay."
He smiled slightly and gave her a nod. "I'll be directing things from here. You'll know as soon as I do."
Laura returned his smile. "Thanks, Mitch."
He trotted back over to a waiting group of men. Laura turned to her in-laws.
"They'll find them," she assured, repeating the lieutenant's promise, knowing she was trying to convince herself as well.
Brian was so tired. He stumbled down the brush covered hill, lost his footing and fell. He didn't know how long he'd been walking but dawn had brought a renewed hope. At least he could see where he was going. Hungry and thirsty, dirty and bruised, he got back up on his weary legs and kept going. He couldn't stop. His father's life depended on him and always in the back of his mind was the thought that Kent just might free himself and be out looking for them. He had to find help.
He kept walking. Several times he thought he heard a helicopter but he hadn't seen anything. Maybe someone was looking for them. He could only hope that sooner or later they would find him or that he would run into one of the search parties. All he could do was keep going.
He must have walked for a full five minutes on the asphalt before his fogged senses told him he'd found a road. He felt like jumping for joy but couldn't dredge up the spare energy. He didn't know what road he was on but he knew it had to lead somewhere out of the park.
He plodded on, watching his feet as if to be sure they kept working as he lifted each one in turn. He was hardly aware of the chopper overhead. The sound of his name being called over a loudspeaker startled him out of his trance. He stopped and slowly looked up.
The copter was hovering over him above the trees. He watched in fascination as a man leaned out with a bullhorn and told him to stay where he was... someone was coming for him. He closed his eyes and sighed wearily. At last he could let someone else take over.
Looking back, what Laura remembered most about that moment was Mitchell running toward her, his hair bright red in the morning sun, a huge smile lighting his face.
"They've found Brian," he shouted as he caught Laura up in a big bear hug. "They're bringing him down."
"What about..." Andy began but the lieutenant didn't let him finish.
"Danny's fine too. Brian says he's with Remington." The smile faded a bit as he released Laura and stood facing her. "He's been hurt. Brian's thinks it's bad. We're getting a rescue team ready to go up."
"I'm going with them," Laura stated in a tone that invited no argument.
"So are we," Cait and Andy both announced.
Mitchell held up his hands to ward them off. "I'm not going to stop you. I know better than that."
It was chilly in the car. Still in shorts and tee shirt from skating in the park, Danny shivered. The sun had come up finally and he'd opened up the front doors to try and let a little warmth in. It seemed like Brian had been gone forever. He checked on his uncle again and sighed with relief. He was still breathing. Danny was terribly afraid Remington was going to die before any help came.
"Danny Boy?"
Startled to hear his uncle, he leaned over the seat. "Uncle Remington... how are you feeling?"
Remington looked awful in the light of day. His face was swollen and discolored. There was dirt and dried blood around his nose and mouth. In spite of that, he managed a small half-smile.
"Like bloody hell," he croaked out. "Where's Brian?"
"He went to get help. The car got stuck and we couldn't move it."
Remington shook his head slightly and grimaced at the movement. He closed his eyes. "I don't even remember how we got here." His voice was thick and he was hard to understand. "Wha... what happened to Kent?" Danny was quiet for a moment and Remington opened his eyes to regard him quizzically. "Danny?"
"Brian shot him," Danny said reluctantly.
"Oh my God," Remington whispered.
"He didn't kill him," Danny hastened to assure his uncle. "He shot him in the leg and we taped him up."
Remington sighed and winced at the pain it brought.
"Uncle Remington?"
"Mmmm..." came the weary reply.
"Thank you for coming to get me."
"Did you think I wouldn't?"
Danny shrugged uneasily. "I didn't know what was going to happen. I was scared."
"We all were. Remington paused and Danny saw him lick his swollen lips before he could speak again. "Nothing in this world could've stopped me from finding you, Danny Boy. Always remember that." Remington closed his eyes again and this time he didn't reopen them.
Danny sat quietly for a long time, thinking his uncle's words over until he heard the helicopter and stuck his head out the door to see where it was coming from. At that moment he saw the group headed up the hill. In the front were several men who looked like rangers and coming right behind them was Aunt Laura and... Danny couldn't believe it... his mother and father.
Steele lay in his hospital bed and fretted. He was never a good patient. He knew that. He supposed he should be grateful to even be alive.
He was still fuzzy about a lot of what happened. He knew he hurt nearly everywhere. The doctors told him he had some cracked ribs, a fairly severe concussion and a fractured cheek. There had been some internal injuries as well. He knew he'd been in surgery but he wasn't completely sure why. He didn't remember a lot of it and he was glad. What he recalled most vividly was the end of his ordeal, looking up into Laura's worried face and thinking it the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. The flight to the hospital was a blur and he was thankful for that. He did remember however, talking to Danny and what his nephew had told him about Brian. He wanted to talk to his son but he supposed he would have to wait. They had allowed him very few visitors, none of them children.
The door to his room opened and he saw Caitlin's dark head in the entryway.
"Are you awake, Rem?" she asked.
"Certainly," he answered the best he could. His cheek and jaw were still swollen, making talking painful. "Come in, Luv."
She came over and pulled up a chair beside his bed. He could still see traces of the emotional ordeal she must have gone through... mostly in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," he told her before she had a chance to say anything.
Cait looked at him in surprise. "Sorry? For what?"
His tongue felt thick in his mouth but he made himself talk. "For putting your son in jeopardy."
"Remington, I came here to thank you for saving him. None of it was your fault."
He shook his head. "He was in my care. I should have been able to protect him."
She gave him a reproving look. "There was no way you could have known this was going to happen. Besides, they weren't even after Danny. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Perhaps," he conceded. "But I never could've forgiven myself if anything had happened to him."
"Well... let's just be glad nothing did." She smiled and squeezed his hand. "You brought my son back to me, that's the only thing that matters." She paused for a moment and Steele could see the tears filling her lovely blue eyes. "And you came back to us too," she went on. "I'm not sure what I would've done if... you're the only family I've got besides Andy and the kids. I don't want to ever lose you, Rem."
Steele didn't say anything. He couldn't. He felt the pressure of his own emotions building up and he didn't want to risk breaking down. Cait seemed to sense his difficulty. She wiped at her eyes and gave him a smile.
"Look at me, carrying on so." She glanced down at her watch. "I've got to go now. I told Laura I'd only be a few minutes. She's outside with Brian. He's been crazy to see you so she threw her weight around and got permission." She stood up and leaned over to kiss his forehead. "Take care. I'll stop by again later."
Steele watched her go, so very glad things had turned out the way they did.
"Take care, Luv," he whispered.
Brian walked down the hospital corridor feeling small and intimidated. He knew they were breaking rules but he took courage in his mother's confident stride beside him. She had assured him it was all right for him to accompany her. They stopped at the door and Laura knocked lightly then opened it up. She prodded his shoulder and he entered ahead of her.
He felt those silly tears again at the sight of his father lying in the bed, tubes in his arms and machines beeping behind him. He'd been so afraid that when he'd left the car that night, it would be the last time he would see his father alive.
"Dad?" he called softly.
Remington turned, saw him standing there and beckoned him to the bed. Brian came over and stood there silently, not sure what to say. Looking at his father's face made him wince. The passing days had made his injuries look worse than Brian remembered them.
"How are you doing?" Remington asked him.
"Me?" Brian squeaked out. "I'm fine. How are you?"
"I'll be fine." His father gave him a smile. "I told you we'd get through it."
Brian looked down. "I'm sorry, Dad. I messed everything up."
"It's appears to me you saved the day, Son," Remington observed.
Brian looked at him incredulously. "But if I hadn't been there..."
"Kent would have done exactly the same thing he did," Remington interrupted. "He never wanted the money." He took Brian's hand. "I'm proud of you, Brian. You saved my life and probably Danny's too."
Brian stared at his father for a moment then glanced over at his mother. Laura was smiling at him. Brian felt a smile start on his own face as he turned back to the bed. He wanted to hug his father but was afraid of hurting him. He contented himself with squeezing Remington's hand tightly.
"Then you're not mad at me?"
"I wouldn't go that far," Laura commented but Brian saw the twinkle in his father's eye and knew he wasn't really in trouble.
He sighed and then remembered what else had been bothering him.
"Do you think the police have our skateboards?" he asked.
"Yes, they do," his mother replied from behind him and came over to the bed as well. "Which reminds me."
Brian took a step back and let his parents conduct their good natured argument about the safety of skateboarding in peace. It didn't really matter anyway. He was just happy they were all around to still be a family. When he saw they were going to be busy for a while, he took advantage of their distraction and slipped out the door. He had one more visit to make here.
Laura sat at the foot of Remington's hospital bed. She couldn't take her eyes from his face, even though it was bruised and bandaged. She'd been so afraid.
He lay quietly, the energy he'd spent talking had worn him out. As she studied him, she thought back to those early days. She had distrusted him, questioned every little thing he did or said. She'd fought long and hard against the feelings she knew were growing stronger between them each day. She had to smile at herself for how foolish she'd been. But she was a different person then, with so much to prove to the world and herself. Sometimes she wondered why he'd put up with her for so long.
"Because I love you."
She heard him as clearly as if he'd said it out loud and she had to blink just to make sure she wasn't hearing voices. "What's the matter?" he asked sleepily.
Laura shook her head and took his hand reassuringly. "Nothing. I was just thinking back."
"Dangerous habit," he murmured. "You should always look ahead."
"I know. Although most of our problems seem to come from the past."
"Ghosts, my dear," he told her as he closed his eyes. She thought he was asleep but she felt him squeeze her hand. "They're only ghosts and they can't hurt us."
Brian peeked around the door cautiously then smiled broadly. "Hello, Maggie," he whispered.
She turned in the chair by her husband's bedside. When she saw him she returned his smile with equal enthusiasm. She got up and walked over to give him a big hug.
"I'm so glad you're safe, Brian," she told him in soft voice. "When we heard about what you did..." Her kind face darkened with disapproval. "You know you had everyone scared to death."
Brian hung his head. He didn't like it when Maggie was upset with him. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I guess I didn't think it through very well."
She was quiet a moment then she reached out to lift his chin. He met her eyes and saw she had more than forgiven him. The smile returned to his face and he hugged her again.
"Can I see Fred?" he asked.
"Of course." Maggie took his hand and walked him over to the bed. "I'll just go tell your mother where you are. I'm sure she'll be worried." She turned and walked out the door.
Brian took Maggie's seat next to Fred. His old friend appeared to be sleeping. Brian looked at the white bandage encircling the man's head and shuddered as he remembered the last time he'd seen him. He reached out to touch his hand and the chauffeur stirred.
"Mmmm... Maggie?" He slowly opened his eyes and focused on Brian.
"Bri... Brian?" Fred struggled to sit up.
"Wait a minute," Brian told him. He glanced around, found the control button and raised the head of the bed. "There," he announced. "That's easier."
Fred smiled his thanks. "Still got a doozy of a headache," he complained. His face grew serious again. "How are you, Brian? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Brian assured him.
"And Danny?" Fred's face was anxious.
"Danny's okay too. Everything turned out all right."
"What about your dad?"
Brian jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "He's down the hall. Mom's with him. He got hurt kinda bad but Mom says he'll be okay in a few weeks."
"I'm sorry I didn't stop those..." Fred began.
"That's what I wanted to see you about," Brian interrupted. "Mom told me you felt bad about what happened. I wanted to make sure you knew it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have stopped them."
"But I should have..."
"Should have what? Gotten killed?" Brian frowned. "That's just how I felt when I knew they wanted me and not Danny. Dad tried to tell me I wasn't responsible for what those men did but I didn't listen and I nearly messed everything up. I don't want you to feel like I did."
Fred gazed at him intently for a long moment, then smiled. The sight of it there warmed Brian's heart. He gripped Fred's hand tighter.
"I'm awfully glad you didn't get killed, Fred," he told his friend. "It wouldn't be the same around the house without you."
"That's exactly what I was thinking about you," Fred replied
Brian laughed, for the first time in a long time, and it felt wonderful.