STEELE LIKE OLD TIMES
BY
MAURA I. KELLY
(BOSTON, FALL l996)

Remington Steele read through the L.A. Tribune lazily, looking for nothing in particular, when an item and photograph about an exhibit opening at the Boston museum caught his eye.

"Well, well," he breathed in as he reread the article with more attention.

"Well, well, what?" Laura Holt Steele asked as she poked her head into her husband's office.

"What? Oh, Laura... oh, nothing," Remington supplied as he quickly crumpled up the newspaper and tossed into the circular file. "So... tell me, Laura, what's on the agenda today?"

Laura looked suspiciously at her partner as she walked into his office. "You already know we finished up our last two cases Monday." She stood in front of his desk looking wistful. "And since this heat wave hit, no one seems to require our services."

"Then I think it would be a good idea if we left town for cooler climes," Remington suggested enthusiastically, getting up from his chair to come around to join her. "Maybe we could cheer you up with a small vacation."

"What do you have in mind?"

Remington seemed to ponder his answer. "How about Boston? Nothing like New England in the fall, and we could attend that University Seminar you were so eager to go to. What was the name of it?"

"The Criminal Justice System in the New Millennium. The one you categorically told me you had no interest in whatsoever."

"I changed my mind, Laura," Steele said solemnly. "I think it would help our detective work to be better acquainted with how the laws might affect the future."

Laura looked dubiously at her husband. "Why do I get the feeling you're up to something, Mr. Steele?"

"Because, my dear Miss Holt, you have a suspicious mind."

"Only when I'm around you," Laura commented sagely.

"Why, Laura, whatever do you mean?" Steele questioned as he reached out and snagged his wife in a kiss.

Any possible retort by Laura was lost in her husband's embrace.

* * *

Cass Winthrop casually read the Bay City newspaper as he sat eating his breakfast. His wife Frankie, also at the breakfast table, didn't seem to mind. She was busy working on a file as she too ate. Their two and a half year old daughter, Charlie, had already been picked up by her playgroup, leaving the meal peaceful for a change. The silence was broken by a small grunt from her husband as he spied some article in the paper.

Frankie looked up from her work. "What'd you find?"

Cass looked over at his wife distractedly. "Sorry, Sweetheart... what did you say?"

"I just asked you what was it you found so interesting?"

"Nothing really. Just something about Grant Harrison and his bid for reelection."

"Oh, well we knew Grant would run again, even after all the scandal last year."

"It amazes me how the voting public can constantly reelect officials who consistently strain the ethics of the government."

"And of good taste," Frankie added, gathering together her files as she got up from the table. "I've got to meet Joe in about a half hour."

"Before you go, I wanted to ask if you were still interested in attending that seminar in Boston next week?"

"I thought you didn't want to go." Frankie looked at her husband curiously. "You told me, and I quote, 'since I'm not practicing much law anymore, why bother?'"

"I've been thinking about that." Cass looked sheepishly at his wife. "It can't hurt to brush up on any advances in the criminal justice system that might crop up in the new century. That way if I ever decide to go back to law full time I'll be prepared." Cass smiled charmingly. "I also know you really wanted to go."

Frankie looked at her husband speculatively. Boston was not one of Cass's favorite towns. Too much family history there. It was where he'd grown up with his cold, dispassionate mother and a mostly ineffectual father... parents who had eventually disowned him many years ago in the midst of a social scandal. That was really the main reason Frankie hadn't pushed about going to this conference. She knew her husband's feelings for that particular city. Besides, as Cass had said, he wasn't practicing much law anymore... not since he and Felicia had opened up their bookstore. So the fact Cass was suggesting they go to the seminar in Boston was putting all her senses on alert. Her husband was up to something.

"All right... if you're sure you want to go. I'll set it up right now."

"Great." Cass picked up the paper casually as he watched his wife head over to the phone in the living room. He observed her actions for a few seconds and then glanced down at the article that had caught his eye... an exhibit opening at the Boston museum.

* * *

Nick Michaels hadn't liked leaving Yvette at home with the baby, but he'd been invited to be a guest speaker at the Criminal Justice Seminar at Boston University. His wife had wanted to go as well but she couldn't afford the time away from her job and there was also six month old Cassidy to consider. Yvette felt it was better if she stayed home and let Nick go... especially since Buddy lived in Boston. That way the two newly found brothers could spend some time together.

Buddy's adoptive parents, Mike and Kitty Ragland, had invited Nick to stay with them while he was in town, giving the Los Angeles attorney a chance to get acquainted with his half-brother's family. Nick had to admit he was a little nervous as he stood there in the airport terminal. Buddy was supposed to pick him up and was planning to bring along his brothers Matt and Rafie. Nick now understood a bit how Buddy must have felt when he first came to the family ranch in New Mexico last year and met all his long lost relatives.

Nick heard his name called and turned around to see Buddy hailing him from across the airport lounge area. It still amazed him how much Buddy looked liked their Father, a man Nick had only seen in pictures. Trailing along behind the big Boston detective, were two other men... a tall, thin Latino and a smaller man, baby-faced and handsome. All three were dressed in long coats and fedoras... a sight that might have been intimidating if it weren't for the smiles on their faces..

"Nicky... it's great to see you." Buddy grabbed him up in a bone cracking hug.

"You too, big brother," Nick responded just as enthusiastically.

"Little brother, I'd like you to meet my other 'little brothers'... Rafie and Matt," Buddy introduced teasingly.

"It's a pleasure." Nick reached out to shake each by hand.

"Likewise," Rafie answered.

"We've heard a lot about you, Nick," Matt joined in.

"And Buddy's told me a lot about you two. I'm just glad we got a chance to finally meet."

"Mom, Dad and Darnell, are waiting dinner for us, so we better collect your bags and get going."

"Yeah, Mom's real strict about us showing up for Sunday dinner on time, whether we're working or not," Rafie added.

The group left the gate section of the airport and headed for baggage claim to collect Nick's things, then head out to the Ragland residence.

Nick was welcomed with open arms by Buddy's parents. The dinner table conversation and bantering reminded him of growing up at his Grandfather's house. His mother and aunts would constantly compete with each other in telling their father the events of the day. As Nick grew older he joined in on the chats. Even after the other girls left home and it had just been his mother and Grandpa Nick, they still kept each other appraised of the days happenings.

So the joking and teasing that was going on at the Ragland's table felt somehow familiar. It was also enjoyable to observe how his brother had been brought up and how naturally he fit in with his family.

"So, Nick... are you all set for tomorrow?" Mike asked his guest.

Nick smiled cheerfully. "Yes, Sir. I'm looking forward to it. Buddy has been telling me about some of the climbs you've done together."

"I'll bet he's also been telling you how he's the fastest in the family too?" Rafie scoffed sarcastically.

"When everyone knows it's you, huh, Rafie?" Matt smirked playfully.

Everyone laughed at Matt's remark and the dinner table conversation soon drifted towards the case the "Hat Squad" was working on at the moment. Nicky was aware that this was name of the police unit Buddy and his foster brothers and Father worked on in the Boston Police Force.

"Have you boys made any progress on the thefts?"

"Naw, Dad. We're still trying to get a handle on who might be behind them," Buddy informed his father.

"Whoever they are, Dad, they know their business," Matt added. "We haven't been able to get close."

"What thefts?" Nick inquired curiously.

"We've had a number of rip-offs from museums and jewelry stores," Buddy explained. "We think they're all connected."

"Yeah, these guys are good. Always the same M.O... they break into the target at night, get past the alarms like experts and leave no trail." Rafie was obviously disgusted.

"I assume you guys checked other cities to see if they hit anywhere else?"

"Yeah, but nothing's turned up yet. Either they're new at this, which is hard to believe because they're too good, or..." Buddy stopped, lost in thought.

"Or what?" Rafie questioned.

"Or they never worked in the U.S. of A. before," Buddy ended excitedly.

"We never thought of that," Matt admitted.

Mike looked over at his eldest. "Good thinking, son. You better check with Interpol and Scotland Yard and see if they've had any thefts using our guys' M.O."

"Okay, we have a guest and I'm sure Nicky doesn't need to hear all this," Kitty admonished firmly.

"Oh, it's all right, Ma'am."

"Mom, I think little brother could use some lessons on police procedures since his expertise is defending the public," Rafie gently teased.

"Yeah, besides, Nicky's here to attend a Criminal Justice conference. It won't hurt for him to start early." Buddy grinned widely.

"Speaking of that," Kitty turned to her oldest son. "Have you prepared that speech you're supposed to give as the representative of the Boston P.D.?" Kitty inquired.

Buddy grimaced. "I'm working on it, Mom, but you know I'm not very good at making speeches in front of a lot of people," he reminded his mother.

"That's why they should've invited me to do it," Rafie announced. "I'm the best talker in the family."

"That's for sure." Matt directed his next comment to Nick. "On stakeouts we can never shut him up, while Buddy rarely says anything."

"I'm sure your brothers appreciate your candid opinions on their behavior, Matthew," Kitty slightly reproached him. "And I'm also confident that Buddy's speech will be wonderful."

"Here, here," Mike agreed. "Now enough, shop talk, boys. Let's discuss the plans for our trip tomorrow."

* * *

The morning was exceptional, cool but not cold. The group had gathered in the driveway to pack the car up for the coming climbing trip. Everyone was dressed appropriately except for Kitty who wasn't accompanying them.

Nick followed Buddy and Matt and piled into Rafie's white Cherokee while Mike put the last of the equipment into the back of the truck and then got into the front seat of his pickup next to Darnell. Kitty waved from the porch as they pulled out of the driveway and headed down the road.

* * *

Nick still couldn't believe where he was right now. He had done many different things with his cousins and his Grandfather but this was the first time he'd ever scaled the side of a sheer rock cliff. It was exhilarating.

When they'd first arrived at the base of the mountain, Mike had explained the rudiments of the equipment to him and they had then started up. Now here he was standing on the top of a mountain with his brother, looking out onto a vast landscape. He felt as if he could see forever.

A hand rested on his shoulder. "What do you think, little brother?"

"It's phenomenal." Nick turned to look at Buddy. "How often have you guys climbed here?"

"A lot. It's Dad's favorite place. The view alone..."

"Is worth the effort. You're right about that, though I suspect I'll be sorry in the morning."

"Why?"

Nick rubbed his upper arm. "I think I've used muscles I didn't even know I had."

Buddy laughed humorously. "You'll get over it."

Nick joined in the laughter and then sobered. "Thanks for inviting me, Buddy. You have a great family."

"Yeah, I think so," Buddy said warmly. "And you're my brother, Nicky. You're welcome anytime."

* * *

Steele could see that Laura was totally engrossed with the lecture they were attending and probably wouldn't miss him as he slid out of his seat. He quickly walked down the aisle and slipped out the side door of the auditorium. Steele knew the person he expected to meet would be waiting, he'd seen him leave the assembly hall a few minutes ago. Walking briskly down the front steps, he quickly cut across the grass, heading towards the stand of trees at the end of the courtyard. He caught sight of his friend leaning against the largest oak... that head of curly black hair hard to miss.

It had been a long time since Steele had seen Cass Winthrop. Their history had its beginnings in both of their youths. They'd first met when Cass had been kicked out of his upper crust home and was wandering aimlessly throughout Europe, in search of some sort of acceptance. Steele, or rather, Harry, had been a product of the streets of Dublin, taken in by Daniel Chalmers and only just learning the ways of making a living off the rich tourists who frequented the Riviera. They were so opposite, yet actually quite a bit alike... both young men in search of their futures. Though they hadn't stayed together long, they'd crossed paths occasionally over the years, the last time over a decade ago... another lifetime ago, back when both men had been much younger. Neither one had any permanent roots or family ties and at that particular time of their lives, never really desired any.

Cass looked much the same... dressed fashionably as always... maybe a few extra lines around the eyes that told of time and responsibility. Steele covered the last few yards quickly and put out his hand in greeting to his old friend.

"Cass, it's good to see you. I knew you would be here."

"You too, Harry." Cass returned the handshake and then pulled Steele into a quick hug.

Steele looked at his friend speculatively as they both sat down.

"What?" the lawyer in Cass asked defensively.

"You've changed. You were never one for demonstrative affection."

The man smiled self-consciously. "Something I learned from my wife."

"I liked to meet her."

Cass gave Steele an appraising look. "And you, my friend... a detective. And an honest and honorable one from all I've heard about Remington Steele."

"Something I learned from my wife."

Cass laughed delightedly. "Who'd ever imagined it, Harry? You and me turning into honest, respectable family men."

"I never would have, but I wouldn't trade it for all the riches in the world," Steele expressed seriously.

"Neither would I, my friend, neither would I."

* * *

Nick had enjoyed himself so far, but then again this was only his first lecture. Buddy had kidded him this morning about how boring he himself found these seminars and how most of the time the speakers put him to sleep. But he had made Nick a solemn promise not to snore when he delivered his talk tomorrow.

Nick walked out of the latest lecture, deciding to get a snack before the next one got started. He wandered out into the hallway, checking his watch absently, trying to calculate what time it was in California and wondering if he could call and catch Yvette before she left for work.

He checked the diagram on his program showing all the facilities available at the college. Finding a food court near to his next lecture, he headed towards it.

When he reached the area, he quickly purchased his meal and found himself a table. Nick glanced around and realized that there were very few people in the eating area as yet. Digging into his lunch, he was unaware of anyone standing near his table until a voice interrupted his rambling thoughts.

"Nicky?"

"Frankie!" Nick immediately stood up to greet his friend and the godmother of his son. "What are you doing here? Is Cass with you?" Observing the tray of food she was carrying, he quickly invited her to sit with him.

"Yes, he's with me... somewhere. He seems to have sneaked out of the lecture we were attending." Frankie looked a bit exasperated. "I have no idea where he is at this particular moment."

Before Nick could question his friend any further, another female voice chimed in. "There seems to be an epidemic of that. My husband disappeared during a lecture too."

Nick was dumbfounded to see Laura Steele standing in front of him, holding a loaded tray as well. "Laura, what a surprise. I didn't know you and Remington were here."

"Hi, Nick. I didn't expect to see you here either."

Nick invited Laura to join them and quickly made the introductions. "Frankie Winthrop, Laura Steele."

"Holt."

"Frame," both women corrected Nicky simultaneously.

Then to Nicky's surprise they greeted each other like old friends. "You two know each other?"

"Laura and I worked at the same agency years ago," Frankie informed him.

"Oh God, Hayvenhurst," Laura intoned, rolling her eyes. Then she grew serious again. "At least Frankie wasn't there as long as I was."

"Well, you were the rising star when I started, Laura."

"Or as much a rising star as a woman could be in that place," Laura added acidly. "Frankie only stayed as an intern for one summer."

"Why?" Nick inquired curiously. "Wasn't Hayvenhurst where you first met Murphy, Laura?"

"Why... because Frankie's expertise as a physic detective was way out of the realm of most of the head honchos at Hayvenhurst. And yes, that's where I first met Murph."

Frankie laughed. "Murphy...?" Frankie looked closely at Nick. "Michaels? My gosh, Nicky, I never made the connection between you two." She paused. "But then, I didn't know Murphy all that well." Frankie scrutinized Nick dubiously. "But I'm damn sure I would have recognized him at Cassidy's christening."

"He and his wife weren't able to make it to the baptism. As a matter of fact, Laura and her husband didn't make it either."

"That's right. Brian wasn't feeling well so we stayed at home with him," Laura explained.

"You have a son?"

"And a daughter, Katie Laura."

"Oh, we have a daughter too... Charlie."

"She's as cute as a button," Nick added. "Frankie and Cass are Cassidy's godparents. They were the couple who helped us out last March during the snowstorm."

"Ah, I always wondered why you named him Cassidy," Laura mused. "It's an unusual name."

"I have an unusual husband."

"I can relate to that," Laura admitted. "I just wish I knew where mine has wandered off too and why."

* * *

Steele and Cass slowly strolled down the sidewalk between the row of low hanging trees as they discussed the real reason for their interest in coming to the conference.

"So, Harry, when do you want to take care of our little problem?"

"Tonight."

"So, soon?"

"The sooner the better, don't you think?"

"I suppose you're right." Cass sighed, not relishing the task ahead. "It's waited too long as it is."

"Have you seen it yet?"

"Yes, when I got into town that was the first thing I did."

"I'm going over there right now. Laura plans to go to a workshop I have no interest in."

"Which one? And when am I going to meet this wife of yours?"

"Legwork and its Applications in the New Century," Steele muttered distastefully and then added, "Tomorrow, I think, when we've taken care of our job."

* * *

Cass quickly slipped into an empty seat next to Frankie. She had told him earlier which lectures she'd wanted to attend so he had no problem tracking her down.

"Where were you?" Frankie whispered out of the side of her mouth so as not to disturb the presentation.

"Ran into an old friend and we ended up talking over old times," Cass answered, keeping his voice low as well.

"Do I know your friend?"

"No, I knew him a long time ago."

"It's a him? I never knew you had any old friends that were male," Frankie teased her husband. Cass had a well-known reputation as a ladies' man when she first met him.

"And here I thought you knew everything about me, Sweetheart," Cass returned. "Anyway, he and I are going to meet for a drink later on tonight, if you don't mind?"

"Not a problem," Frankie agreed as she redirected her attention to the lecture again.

Cass sat with arms crossed as he only half listened to the speaker. His stomach growled, reminding him he'd missed lunch. Most of his thoughts though, centered on the activities he and Harry were planning for tonight.

* * *

Steele found Laura just coming out of the workshop she'd been attending. He'd been to the museum and learned as much as he needed to know for the job tonight.

"Hi, Remington."

"Hello my darling, how was the lecture?"

"It was great and you would have hated it."

"Thanks for understanding."

Laura laughed. "Anytime, Mr Steele. The fact that you even came to this seminar with me is appreciated."

Steele tried not to feel guilty as he and Laura walked out to where they had left their rental car.

"I ran into, Nicky earlier today."

"Nick Michaels is here? I thought he'd still be at home playing the new father."

Laura smiled. "I don't think he wanted to leave Yvette alone, but his new found brother is here and I guess either he or Yvette were supposed to be the representative for the County of Los Angeles. So..."

"So, he didn't have much choice. And it made more sense for Yvette to stay home with the baby."

Laura nodded. "Oh, I hope you don't mind, but Nick told me about one of the lectures being presented tonight and I'd like to go."

Steele couldn't believe his luck. "Actually no, I don't mind. I met an old friend today and I was planning on possibly meeting him for a drink later. So why don't you go to the lecture."

"Really? Do I know him?"

"No, I don't think so. How about an early dinner. I missed lunch."

"That's what happens when you ditch classes," Laura kidded him. "But that sounds fine to me."

* * *

Cass looked over at his friend. They were both dressed in black turtlenecks, pants and jackets. Steele handed Cass a pair gloves he pulled out of his backpack. It also carried rappelling ropes and other tools necessary for a job like the one they were doing tonight.

Cass realized it had been many years since he and Harry had first met, but at this moment it seemed that no time had past. He couldn't believe that here he was breaking into a museum again. Not that he'd done this very often. Harry had been the one who excelled in this kind of recreation. Cass enjoyed pulling the cons and scams more then the purloining of art objects.

"Hurry up, Cass, or you'll be left behind."

"Do you promise?"

At Steele's look Cass tried another tack. "It's been a while, ya know. I don't make a regular habit of B and E."

"B and E?" Steele looked at his friend strangely. "Breaking and entering? Where did you learn that?

"Frankie, why?"

"Laura uses it too."

"Funny that."

"Hurry up, Cass."

"Give me a break here, Harry. You've had more experience lately doing this type of thing."

"What? The honest and honorable Remington Steele? Bite your tongue."

"I didn't mean that kind of experience. I meant your private detective practice. I know even my wife's done more of this lately then I have."

It took the two men about seven minutes to scale the side of the building. The museum was as large as a city block and the roof stretched out before them. There were twelve skylights scattered across the roof. Steele had thoroughly cased the building earlier that day and had studied the blueprints of the museum before he had arrived in town. Cass left this part of the job to his friend.

"This way." Steele gestured to his friend to follow him halfway across the roof. "We need to go into the museum at the eighth skylight. Security is very antiquated. It could really use an update."

"Well, why don't you offer your services after we finish our business here?" Cass suggested sarcastically.

Steele smiled sardonically at his friend. "Maybe I will. But for the moment I am very glad their security..."

"...isn't up to our standards?"

Steele nodded as he began to offset the alarm. Cass kept watch as his friend worked. Finishing the operation, Steele gestured Cass over to the edge of the skylight. He had opened it after neutralizing this section of the alarm system.

They donned black ski masks and Cass set the lines over the edge. Each man grabbed one of the lines and then glided in unison down the ropes and into the museum.

A small beam of light appeared as Cass activated his flashlight. Steele collected the ropes and concealed them and the knapsack behind a Rodin. Steele had warned his friend that the guards were on a fifteen minute rotation in each section. They had about seven minutes left till one would be in this particular area. Steele was in the lead as the two men headed into the next gallery and toward the object of their search.

It was a minute later they found themselves standing in front of an empty picture frame. The two men looked at each other in disbelief.

"Bloody hell," Steele muttered angrily.

Cass looked at his friend and then back to the empty frame. "Someone stole the damn thing before we even got here."

"Well it couldn't have been long since they took it. It was here when I checked this afternoon."

"Are you sure?"

"Don't be daft, Cass, of course it was here," Steele snapped back as he slipped as close as he could to the empty frame to see if he could get any idea how the thief had done it.

"Well, it isn't here now and if we don't get a move on, the guards are going to be here too."

"Good point," Steele acknowledged, checking his watch.

They both quickly headed back to where they had left there rappelling equipment. They would have very little time to climb back up the ropes and through the skylight before the guards would find the Gainsborough gone. Steele quickly retrieved the backpack and handed Cass his rope. He pulled out his own as he slipped the pack over his shoulders. Cass had already anchored his line to the skylight and was waiting for his friend to do the same. It took Steele a couple of misses before his would catch on the ledge. As soon as it did, they both shinnied up the ropes and reached the skylight opening just as the alarm was sounded. They smoothly unhooked the ropes and rapidly retraced their steps. The descent back down the side was accomplished swiftly, but then their luck faltered. Coming around the far side of the building was one of the perimeter guards who was checking for any intruders outside.

Catching sight of the two figures in black, the guard shouted, "You two hold it."

Not waiting around for the guard to arrest them, Cass and Steele bolted in the other direction. They ran full out for a half a mile and then slowed as the shouting and police sirens died down. They'd pulled off the ski masks during their sprint, not wanting to attract anymore attention then they already had.

"Whoa." Cass could barely talk. "That was too close."

"You're not kidding, Mate," Steele responded, just as winded as his friend.

Then both men started to laugh with shared relief.

"Just like old times, isn't it?"

"Too much like old times," Cass groaned as he started walking. "I'm getting too old for this. Should we head back to where we parked the car?"

"Good idea," Steele approved. "Let's return to our hotel. We still have the problem of finding the Gainsborough. Damn, we were so close."

"Tomorrow's another day, buddy. We'll figure out what to do then."

* * *

Mike Ragland was not a happy man. The thieves had knocked over another museum and the Hat Squad was no closer to finding them. The bald captain stood looking at an empty frame as Matt and Rafie, along with some uniformed officers, questioned the guards.

The forensic team was carefully checking for fingerprints but Mike doubted they would find any. These crooks were too clever for that. Along with the borrowed Gainsborough that had just arrived for a six month showing, the thieves had also grabbed various lesser Masters as well as some sculptures.

What amazed Mike was that they were even sighted by the guards. Maybe the punks were getting more brazen and so more prone to making mistakes. He hoped so because right now they had nothing but a slim identification.

"Dad, the guard that spotted the two men gave a fairly good description," Matt told his father.

"As good as it gets, little brother, when the perps were wearing ski masks," Rafie interjected as he came over to join his father and brother.

"We'll take anything we can get. Rafie, put the info on the radio. I want an APB right now. Maybe these guys are still around."

* * *

Steele couldn't believe their continuing bad luck. They had successfully gotten out of the difficulty at the museum by the skin of their teeth and now they had cops pulling them over. Not just traffic cops either, Steele judged by their attire and their unmarked vehicle. They had to be plainclothes detectives.

"Got any ideas?" Steele asked Cass

"Be polite?" Cass answered dead panned.

"You're in a good mood for someone who might get arrested soon," Steele remarked sarcastically.

"Sorry, Harry but as you mentioned earlier, this reminds me of old times so much that I just couldn't help the levity. It always kept us on an even keel back in those bad old days."

"You're right, mate, it is reminiscent of the old days. And they were bad days, even though we wouldn't have admitted it then."

"You always tended to take yourself too seriously, Harry."

"And you never took anything seriously, Cass." Steele looked over at his old friend with warmth. "But you managed to make it seem easier even in the worst situations and always kept me from drowning in my Irish melancholy by making jokes."

"Bad jokes."

"Very bad jokes."

Steele looked through the rearview mirror again as he pulled the car over to the side of the road. The officers, displaying their badges on there breast pockets, got out of the car. One of the cops, the taller one with the decidedly Latino looks, stayed behind the car with his gun drawn. The other cop, handsome and shorter, looking almost too young to even be on the force, came around and stood right beside Steele's window. Both Steele and Cass were careful to keep their hands visible.

At the cop's gesture, Steele rolled down his window. "What can we do for you, Officer?"

"Could you both get out of the car please, Sir," the officer requested.

Steele and Cass looked at each other for a moment and at Cass's shrug, both slowly emerged from either side of the car. The first policeman came up beside Cass as the second one confronted Steele.

"May we ask what this is all about?" Cass asked.

"Yes, gentlemen, as far as I know I wasn't breaking any traffic laws," Steele added.

"Can I see your driver's license please?"

"My license?" Steele looked questioningly at the officer as he quickly checked through his pockets. "I seemed to have left it at the hotel."

"This is a rental, Officer," Cass explained, after directing an incredulous look at Steele. "I have my license, if you'd like to take a look."

"Were you driving, Sir?"

"No."

"Well then we're going to have to take the two of you into the station, I'm afraid."

"For what? Driving without a license might break a few traffic laws but it's a bit of a stretch for arresting us," Cass pointed out reasonably.

"Yes, that's true, Mr.... Winthrop?" Matt said, reading off the license he had in his hand. "But there was a robbery at the museum tonight and you two fit the descriptions of the suspects."

"I beg your pardon?" Steele bristled in his best manner.

"It's all right, Harry. I'm sure they didn't mean to imply that we had anything to do with a robbery of some kind. Did you, Officers?"

Instead of answering, Matt flashed the light he held in his hand into the back seat of the car. Seeing nothing, he looked at Steele. "Can we check the trunk?"

Cass answered before Steele could say anything. "Unless you gentlemen have probable cause or have a search warrant, you may not check our trunk."

"Let me guess, you're a lawyer?" Rafie asked.

"Yes, licensed in my home state of Illinois..."

"That won't help you here, Mr Winthrop," Matt reminded him.

"...as well as the state I originally passed the bar in... Massachusetts. I believe Boston is still part of that particular state."

"Oh, touché," Steele silently applauded.

"Okay, so we won't check the trunk, but you two are still coming down to the station with us to see if our witness can identify either of you."

"Gentlemen, this is highly illegal," Cass protested. "You just can't seize private citizens off the street and take them to jail."

"Sorry, Sir, you'll have to come with us," Matt insisted.

"What about our rental?" Steele asked.

"Will send someone back for it," Rafie promised as he gestured for the two men to get into the back seat of the police car.

Cass and Steele both looked at each other. Shrugging in defeat, they got into the car.

* * *

"This is getting to be too much like old times, Harry," Cass observed to his friend as he looked around the sparse jail cell they'd been placed in.

"I'm afraid you're right about that." Steele lounged back on the only bunk in the place. "This reminds me of the time in Marseilles when you and Daniel and I got into the brawl with Martine's thugs and their cousin, the chief of police, had the three of us thrown into jail."

Cass laughed, remembering that night. "We were so drunk and so bruised that even when they wanted to let us out, none of us could move." He shook his head. "How is that old conman anyway?" he asked. "Have you seen him lately?"

As soon as he asked the question, Cass knew the answer. He could read it in the flash of pain in Steele's eyes and by the gentle smile that came to his lips, and he felt a pang of sorrow for what Daniel Chalmers had meant to him, knowing that it was only a fraction of the bond that existed between his two old friends. "I am sorry, Harry," he offered quietly. "How long ago?"

"Almost ten years now." Steele's face told Cass it was still hard for him to believe, even after all this time. Then he smiled, his blue eyes twinkling at some untold memory as he glanced back up at Cass. "He went out in grand style, mate. You would've been proud of the old man."

Cass returned the smile. "I'm sure of it." He watched as Steele rose up from the bunk and came over to stand looking out the bars of the cell.

"The old fox was full of surprises... even at the very end."

Cass's eyebrows rose at that. He studied his friend carefully, the calm acceptance there in his face. He smiled again. "He told you then?"

Steele turned quickly at that, his own brows drawn together. "You knew?" he accused sharply.

Cass shrugged. "It wasn't hard to guess. He never told me in so many words, but I figured it out pretty quickly. He didn't just find you in Dublin. What possible business would an operator like Daniel have there?"

Cass could see Steele was thinking about that. "Why didn't you ever tell me?" he asked, not quite as harshly.

"I guess I figured it wasn't any of my business. It was between you and Daniel." Cass chuckled lightly. "Daniel always did have his own agenda. And besides, what good would it have done to say anything? What would you have done?"

Steele face flushed self-consciously. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Sure you do," Cass countered. "You would've gotten mad and stormed out. You were so busy being the angry young man back then, I don't think knowing Daniel was your father would have helped anybody... especially you."

Steele sighed and Cass moved over to lay a hand on his shoulder. "Water under the bridge, my friend," he offered consolingly. "We can't change the way things happened."

Steele shook his head. "You're right," he agreed and then smiled, "about everything."

Cass smiled wryly. "Maybe not everything." He gestured to the drab walls surrounding them. "Definitely not about this."

Steele could only chuckle in wry agreement.

* * *

Two hours had passed and Cass and Steele were still waiting for the cops to put them in front of the promised line-up. Cass sat down with Steele, then got up and walked around the small cell, sat down, got up again. "Enlighten me, Harry. Why didn't we make our one phone call again?"

"Because neither of us wants to call our wives, remember?"

Cass sighed and sat down again. "Oh yeah. There would be messy questions about what we were really up too, dressed like this."

"So as you suggested earlier, mate, we just sit and wait until they put us in their line-up, the guard can't identify us, and then we just go back to the hotel with Laura and Frankie none the wiser."

"Right!" Cass intoned dully.

Steele laughed at his friend's comment. "Well it sounded good anyway."

* * *

It was early in the morning when Buddy and Nick arrived at the station, having received a call from Rafie telling them they might have two suspects in the museum robberies. Nick had been tagging along with his big brother, deciding it might be instructive to watch the Hat Squad work. At the moment though, things weren't going well for the police investigation.

"I know you guys have been frustrated about not catching these thieves, but pulling two guys, one a lawyer, off the street for a line up was pretty desperate," Buddy told his brothers.

"It's also illegal," Nick added, "if you had no probable cause."

"That's what Winthrop said when we put the two of them in lock-up," Rafie groused. "But they both fit the description and both were wearing dark clothing,"

"Cass Winthrop?"

"I think so," Matt answered as he looked for the paperwork on his desk. "Why?"

"And what was the name of the other guy?"

Rafie laughed. "He told us his name was Remington Steele, the famous detective. Can you believe that? But he didn't have any I.D. and his friend kept calling him Harry."

"So we suspect that he really isn't Steele. Besides, I always thought Steele was much taller," Matt remarked.

"Taller than who, Matt... you?"

Before Matt could react to Buddy's comment, Nick started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Buddy inquired.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that Rafie and Matt most likely do have locked in your jail, Cass Winthrop and Remington Steele."

"Cass Wintrop... why does that name seem so familiar?" Buddy questioned curiously.

"Because, big brother... Cass Winthrop is Cassidy's Godfather... the man your nephew is named for." Nick looked thoughtful. "But I had no idea he knew Remington. I wonder if Frankie and Laura know."

"Who are Frankie and Laura?" Rafie asked confused.

"Cass and Remington's wives. They're here for the Law Enforcement Conference and Seminar."

"Oh, boy," Rafie muttered, a sinking feeling filling him with dread. "So if their wives are here for the conference, it follows that Winthrop and Steele are here with them."

"Oh, yeah," Nick agreed with Rafie's assessment.

"And we just picked up and arrested two men who probably had nothing to do with the robbery at the museum," Matt lamented.

"Uh-huh," Buddy asserted. "And if I were you boys, I'd get them out of the lock up fast, before my nephew's Godfather finds a way to sue the police seven ways to sundown."

* * *

"Well, I never thought I'd see the day you two would end up as jailbirds," Nick chortled as he beheld his two friends seated together on the bed.

Cass and Steele immediately came to attention hearing a familiar voice.

"Nicky!"

"Nick! It's wonderful to hear a friendly voice."

"Amen to that, Mate. I heard you were at the conference."

"I didn't know you were in town?" Cass looked confused.

"I didn't know you two knew each other," Nick countered.

"Cass and I are very old friends, Nicky, but I was unaware you two had met."

"Cass and I ran across each other in March during a blizzard."

"I'm his son's Godfather," Cass stated proudly.

"Ah, now I see. I always wondered why you named him Cassidy." Steele and Cass finally took notice of the other three men behind Nick.

"I see you brought the constabulary with you," Steele drawled.

"A very repentant 'constabulary' I'm afraid. Let me make the introductions before they offer their sincerest apologies and let you two out of here." Nick gestured to each in turn. "My brother Buddy and his brothers, Rafie and Matt."

"Doesn't that make them your brothers?" Cass asked rhetorically.

"Where have I heard that before," Buddy laughed.

* * *

The hiss of foils could be heard as Cass and Steele jockeyed back and forth across the floor. They'd taken refuge in the college gym to decide what to tell Laura and Frankie about the night's activities. The only thing their wives were aware of at the moment was that the two men had been mistakenly picked up by the police and spent the night in jail.

As they crossed epees, first one would get the advantage, then the other. Neither one uttered a word as they practiced. Both excelled at the sport and kept the other on his toes. After about a half hour both acknowledged the others expertise. They saluted and tiredly pulled off their masks.

"So, any ideas on what to tell the wives?" Steele put to his friend.

"Why ask me?"

"You're the lawyer and everyone knows a barrister can come up with ten different notions in a matter of minutes."

"I haven't been practicing law for a year or two, Harry. I got bored and decided to try something else."

Steele looked at his friend, puzzled. "You, Cass Wintrop, gave up practicing law?" Steele questioned incredulously of his friend. "I don't believe it. When we first me that was all you ever wanted to be. You wanted nothing better than to prove to your parents you could be the most successful barrister in the country."

"So true. But then I found friends who became my family and who took me as I am." Cass smiled contentedly. "And then there's Frankie. I've never needed to prove anything to her, just love her."

"You're lucky, mate. Laura's always needed that love proven. I know she loves me, but when we first became partners it took her a long time to trust me."

"Is that the reason you never told her about the painting."

"Probably, but why didn't you tell your wife."

"It never really came up. I sent you the painting long before I met Frankie."

"Ah, but when you came to Boston you came under false pretenses, didn't you."

"Okay, I admit I'm not proud of some of my past, but unlike you it has never been a great 'mystery' to my wife. She's aware of most of the sordid details."

"So, why didn't you tell her up front?"

"I thought you and I could get together and just take care of it with no muss and fuss and with no one the wiser."

Steele looked at his friend and nodded his agreement. "That's what I was hoping for too. Now we may have to explain something to them if their suspicions are aroused."

"Get a grip, Harry. Did you spend too much time in jail last night? We're married to P.I.'s and I have never not known my wife to poke her nose into my business."

Steele groaned. "I know you're right. Laura's the same way... 'a dog with a bone.' We're going to have to tell them, aren't we?"

Cass sighed. "Yes, no getting around it."

* * *

Laura and Frankie were doing something they normally got well paid for... snooping. They were trying to figure out what their respective spouses had been up to the previous evening. Both had decided to miss part of the conference that day as they were more preoccupied with what Cass and Remington had gotten themselves into last night. They both spent the better part of an hour checking through their husbands' belongings and were now comparing notes.

"Did you find anything?" Frankie asked.

"Not yet," Laura admitted. "How about you?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, other then this." Frankie held up a black canvas jacket she held in her hands. "It's similar to one Cass owns but it isn't his."

"No, I recognize it. It's Remington's. He's had it for as long as I can remember. Even though it looks like it's about to fall apart, he insists on keeping it. Says it brings him good luck."

"I wonder why Cass is holding on to it?"

"Because our husbands probably didn't think you would be as suspicious of your mate as I am of mine." Laura looked speculatively at the jacket.

"Now why would they think that?" Frankie smiled at her friend mischievously. "Shall we see what they're hiding?"

"Oh, yes."

Frankie put the coat down on the table and both she and Laura inspected it. Laura had been right, the jacket had seen better days and yet the fabric appeared to be very strong, almost as if it had been repaired many times.

It was funny, Laura had seen this jacket countless times before but had never placed any significance to it. It was just an old coat belonging to her husband from the old days. That should have clued her in... the old days, his mysterious past that popped up at the most odd times, even now. Odder still was the fact that Frankie's husband and Remington had a past together that neither wife had been aware of until now.

"Have you noticed it's almost too heavy even for canvas?"

"Yes, I know what you mean. I've carried it before and I can tell you, it never felt this weighted down before," Laura concluded as she began checking the sleeves. "Anything?"

Frankie was busy going through the body of the jacket. "Maybe. There seems to be a pocket hidden in the layer between the back of the jacket and the inseam."

"Did you find something?"

"I think so," Frankie responded as she easily peeled away a layer of the material to reveal a folded white canvas parchment beneath.

Laura pulled the item out and slowly opened it to reveal a painting.

"It's the Gainsborough stolen out of the Boston Museum last night."

"I'm afraid so," Laura concurred with Frankie's assessment.

"What do you want to do, Laura?"

"I think we should both talk to our husbands separately and see what story they come up with."

"Good idea. Talking to them together, we may not get to the whole truth. Dividing them, we may find out much more."

* * *

"You knew Remington Steele, one of the best detectives in the country and you never told me?"

"When I knew him, he wasn't Remington Steele and he definitely wasn't a detective."

"Ah, now I'm getting the picture." Frankie nodded her head knowingly. "Laura told me a little about her husband's mysterious past. You were part of it... the disreputable part of it, knowing your former history."

"Well, thank you, Sweetheart, for that vote of confidence, but I'll have you know it was Harry and his father, Daniel Chalmers, who taught me the first, best things about cons." Cass looked questioningly at his wife. "And when did you get so chummy with Laura?"

"Oh, didn't I mention that Laura and I knew each other at Hayvenhurst?"

"Laura, worked for Hayvenhurst? Small world."

"So it seems to be," Frankie agreed. "So do either of you two 'con men' have a good excuse for your late night break-in at the museum?

"Of course, Frankie, let me explain."

"I hope it's a good one," Frankie said icily.

"It all started back in l98l when I met up with Harry in England. He'd been commissioned by a wealthy industrialist to steal a painting that belonged to someone else."

"Steal the painting?"

"Sure, Sweetheart. That's what Harry used to do to make an honest living back then," Cass told his wife nonchalantly.

"Uh-huh," was all Frankie commented.

* * *

"Laura, please... I promised you I'd given up that way of life and I have... I swear. But what Cass and I were trying to do tonight is pay back an old debt."

"Mr. Steele," Laura addressed her husband irately, arms crossed and feet planted. "You're talking in riddles. What debt?"

"If you would calm down, I'd explain."

Laura breathed out slowly and Steele could hear his wife counting to ten. "Okay, continue."

"Thank you. Where was I? Oh yes, I knew someone who could make a perfect copy of the painting."

"Big surprise."

Steele heard his wife's snidely whispered comment and chose to ignore it. "The copy was to be used to replace the original..."

"So the 'victim' wouldn't know about the switch."

"Yes." Steele smiled at his wife encouragingly. "That's what I love about you, Laura, always right on top of the angles."

At Laura's look Steele proceeded. "The first part of the scheme worked perfectly. I was able to replace the copy for the original with no problem. The difficulty arose when the gentlemen who hired me was murdered by an associate."

"Murdered?"

* * *

"An associate murdered the industrialist? What kind of business was he in?" Frankie asked her husband.

"Harry and I didn't realize that the man who hired him was connected to the Irish Mafia."

"A front man," Frankie stated.

"Yes... in a way. It turned out his entire business was a front for arms smuggling. He'd made millions from the IRA selling then weapons over the years."

"Oh great."

"Yes, that's what we thought," Cass agreed gloomily. "Obviously a falling out had occurred between Harry's client and the terrorist group. So here we were with a dead client and the Gainsborough."

"Why didn't you two just put the original back where it belonged and retrieve the copy?"

"That was the plan, Frankie, until the man we took it from went back home to America."

* * *

"America?" Laura looked incredulously at her husband. "You mean he wasn't English?"

"No, he was only living in England. Actually he was a diplomat of some sort," Steele hedged.

"Could you possibly be more specific, Mr. Steele. What kind of 'sort' of diplomat?"

"America's ambassador to England." Steele grimaced at the expected reaction from his wife.

Laura was beyond words for a full minute. "You broke into an American embassy to steal an ambassador's painting?"

"Actually no, Luv. He had a private residence where he kept this picture. That's where I made the switch."

* * *

"Steele made the switch. You weren't with him?" Frankie inquired of her husband.

"No, of course not."

"Well that relieves my mind."

Cass grimaced. "Don't be relieved just yet. This man had a very bad gambling habit. That was one of the reasons he was recalled home."

"And you of course excel at the tables," Frankie pointed out ironically.

"Yes, Harry always outshone me at second story work but I could always best him at the tables. My job was to keep the mark occupied while Harry took care of the painting."

"The mark? Great, we've only been here a few days and you've already picked up some four letters words I hoped you'd forgotten."

* * *

"So, Cass, kept him busy while you stole the painting?" Laura summarized what she had learned so far.

"Yes,"

"So when you went to deliver the object to the contractor he turned up dead?"

"That's right."

"I'm surprised the business associate just didn't implicate you two in the murder."

"They tried but we had alibies and decided it would be wiser to leave the country as soon as possible."

"Wise decision," Laura commented absently. "But how did you get the painting out of the country."

"I didn't, Cass did. He wasn't saddled with the, uh... reputation I'd already garnered on the continent. So he agreed to take it with him until we could decide how best to return it."

* * *

"You brought the painting back to Bay City with you?"

"Yes. I'd promised Harry I would hang onto it until he was settled somewhere where it would be safe."

"And you did send it to him?"

"Of course. I got a letter from him the next year from Los Angeles, telling me he had met someone and had planned on staying for sometime."

* * *

"Where did you keep the painting all this time?"

"Behind my favorite movie. The Casablanca one sheet. I had to put it somewhere where you wouldn't find it, Laura. You're too good a detective."

"If I was that good, I would have found the damn thing. So now what?"

"I thought that was up to you. I'm the one who broke the trust here."

* * *

The two couples were all gathered in the Steele's suite to discuss their mutual problem.

"What I don't understand," Frankie declared, "is how the two of you could have missed all the news reports in the paper and on the local news about the recent robberies here."

"I guess we were so preoccupied with returning the Gainsborough, our total concentration was on that."

"Well it does prove you two are not really into that part of your old life anymore," Laura asserted reluctantly. She heaved a sigh of long-suffering. "Okay, the first thing we have to do it is catch the real thieves."

"After we do that, the next problem is to return the original painting with no one the wiser," Frankie added.

"Finding the culprits may not be too difficult if we can figure out where they might strike next," Steele pointed out.

Cass brightened. "Then our best bet is to check and see what might be showing up around town that would attract these guys. And hope we can stay ahead of the police."

"Nick said that as far as he knows, the cops have no idea who's pulling off these heists," Frankie told the men.

"The only thing they've been able to come up with is that this group may be from out of the country," Laura supplied.

"Is that all Nick was able to tell you?"

"Cass... Laura and I really didn't want to involve Nick any more than we already have."

"Though I think Nicky really wanted to get involved when he realized what we might be up too," Laura added.

"It wouldn't do to get Nick caught up in this somewhat illegal enterprise," Steele declared. "But we might be able to use him to contact the police at the appropriate time if everything works out."

"Quite right," Cass agreed. "It's bad enough we've compromised him this far, not to mention getting our wives embroiled in this little debacle as well."

"Well, Sweetheart." Frankie came over and put her arms around her husband. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Actually, neither would I." Laura looked over at Steele and gave him an accepting smile. "I guess I really can't condemn you for trying to do the right thing, even if you had to wait almost fifteen years to do it."

"So... where do we go from here?" Cass looked over at his friend.

"We check any sources we might have. Cass you were brought up here, do you have any contacts still?"

"Some. Frankie and I can see what we can find out tomorrow."

"Laura, I need you to check out the newspapers for any hint of a desirable target for our burglars. As well as what they've hit so far."

"I can handle that." She eyed her husband, a faint trace of suspicion still lingering. "What about you?"

"If the police theory is correct, I need to check a few sources on the continent for some answers."

* * *

Nick watched as Buddy talked with his brothers. Buddy was guest speaker today and had wanted to check in with his partners to see if they had made any progress on the museum robberies.

"We've been looking into all the possible sights our perps might strike next," Matt told his older brother.

"Anything look promising?"

"Couple of things." Rafie shrugged. "It's gonna be hard to second guess."

"Have we heard anything yet from Interpol or Scotland Yard?"

"Yes, but nothing definite. There's a number of groups who could be responsible," Matt explained.

"Yeah, the way they talk over there, it must be a regular thing for somebody to knock over a museum."

"Well, the Europeans certainly have more of them to hit," Nick pointed out.

"We'll catch these guys, Nick. They're bound to make a mistake sooner or later," Rafie announced.

* * *

Laura, Frankie, Cass and Steele were once more congregated in the Steele's suite.

"Cass, you said you and Frankie found something out?" Laura asked at once, not waiting on formalities.

"Yes," Frankie answered. "We checked with some of Cass's old sources and weren't able to find out much..."

"But then I called home and talked to an acquaintance."

"They call him Tony the Tuna," Frankie supplied with a wry smile.

Steele looked amused. "His name is really Tony the Tuna?"

"Oh yeah," Cass smiled. "Dreadful isn't it? Anyway, Tony actually owes me a couple of favors, so I asked him to put Frankie and I in touch with someone here."

"And he did?"

"Yep. Cass and I talked to the man and he confirmed the word around town is the thieves are definitely out-of-towners and suspected to be foreigners."

"Well that tallies with what I learned talking to Old Jace in Marseilles."

"Jace is still alive?" Cass inquired.

"Alive and still has his hand in. I sent him your regards, Cass. He believes the group we're looking for operated for a while in France, but skipped the country when things got too hot for them."

"How many are we talking about?" Laura asked her husband.

"Jace thinks at least four... maybe five."

Okay... so we know they're definitely not home grown," Frankie said.

"What we need to do is put our heads together and figure out where they might strike next," Laura added. "I checked the papers and a couple of other places and came up with three possibilities."

"So we have to make an educated guess," Steele continued.

"And after they commit their robbery... tail them back to where hopefully they still have the painting stashed," Cass finished.

* * *

Laura and Steele split off from Cass and Frankie. The Steeles decided to take the high ground on this stakeout. The foursome had debated for hours before they all agreed that the Guggenheim Museum was the most likely target of the three choices they had. It was much smaller than the Boston Museum where the Gainsborough had been housed, but still was well known for its many masterpieces.

It was close to midnight when Laura checked her watch for the eleventh time.

"Maybe we picked the wrong target."

"I hope not," Steele sighed. "We can't afford to miss them. If the police do succeed in catching them we'll never get the original Gainsborough back where it belongs."

"Oh, yes we will," Laura informed him emphatically. "If the cops do catch the thieves, then the painting will eventually go back to the museum and be placed on display again. Right?"

"Right."

"So then we'll go in one night and return the original, just as you and Cass planned."

Steele looked lovingly at his wife and gently took her hand in his. "Thank you, Laura, for still believing in me after all of this."

"I never stopped believing in you, Darling." Laura kissed Steele's hand as it held her own. "Ever since you became Remington Steele, 'Harry,' you've always tried to do the right thing. And trying to return this painting is no exception."

The buzzing of the cellular interrupted any further conversation.

* * *

Cass and Frankie were staked out in a car down a half a block from the museum. They had all agreed it would be smarter for Cass to be the one to tail the thieves after they were spotted since he knew Boston better than any of them. Having lived here part of his life, he was still familiar with the city.

Frankie had just buzzed Steele and Laura to see if the other two had seen anything yet and received a negative reply. By the light of her watch, Frankie could see it was just pass twelve.

"Do you think we chose wisely, Frankie?"

"Don't you?"

"I asked you first, Sweetheart," Cass grinned. "You're the psychic, not me."

Frankie thought about it for a couple of minutes then looked over at her husband. "Yes, Cass, I think we picked the right one. And I believe that painting will go back to where it belongs."

"Glad to hear it."

* * *

It was close to two o'clock when Laura spotted a lone car through the infrareds, cruising slowly past the museum.

"Something?"

"I don't know. A black Honda went by just now. Mmm... there it is again."

"Let me see." Steele took the glasses and found the vehicle. "Yes... I think you're right... I think we have them. Better alert Cass and Frankie to wait for the signal."

* * *

Matt and Rafie had staked out the jewelry store in town that had just received a new collection of diamonds. They'd also put two other units on watch in other vicinities. They'd decided that since the thieves had struck a museum the last time, they probably wouldn't hit one again so soon.

It was now almost 4:00 a.m. and they figured nothing was going to happen tonight, when a call from Buddy suddenly alerted them to the fact that the robbers had been found and to meet him at an address in the warehouse district.

* * *

Cass and Frankie had followed the black Honda for almost twenty minutes. The car finally pulled into a small house in the warehouse district, down near the docks. Cass turned off his lights and killed the engine as he glided the car farther down the street and pulled over. He and Frankie watched the house through the rearview and side mirrors. Laura and Remington pulled up behind them a few minutes later, taking directions from Frankie by phone.

The Steele's got out and approached their friends' car. Steele opened the left back door and both he and Laura slipped inside.

"Are we all ready?" Steele asked.

Cass nodded. "As planned. You and I will go around back and check to see how many there might be, then contact the women by phone."

"Laura, call Nick in five minutes. Give him the address as we promised and have him get his policemen brothers over here as soon possible."

"Will that give you enough time to make the switch?"

"If the painting is still here, yes. If not, it'll be too late anyway," Steele answered as he and Cass both got out of the car and headed towards the house.

* * *

The two men reached the rear of the building with no problem. The thieves obviously believed they had gotten clean away again. Steele and Cass checked a couple of windows and found them barred. Not unreasonable in this neighborhood, Cass thought. They then tried the back door. Not only was it locked, but the original wood had been replaced with a steel panel. No entrance that way either.

"Plan B?" Cass asked.

"Afraid so."

They both slipped out into the street and reached the car.

Laura and Frankie were already standing outside anxiously waiting for their husbands.

"Problem?"

"No chance through the back," Steele told his wife.

"It's our turn then," Frankie said.

"Plan B, Sweetheart."

"Okay." Frankie turned to Laura. "Let's do it before the cavalry comes over the hill too fast."

The women slipped into the car and drove it nearly to the house and then slowed down and stopped. They both got out and went over to the hood and lifted it, as if checking to see what might have caused the vehicle to stop. Feigning ignorance, they both looked around as if seeking anywhere they could get help. Seeing the "house," they both silently agree to give it a try and walk up to the front door.

Meanwhile Cass and Steele had made their way back to the building and had positioned themselves near the porch steps in anticipation of their wives coming up to knock on the door. They each pulled out a gun supplied with the compliments of Tony the Tuna's friend.

Laura knocked and the front door was immediately opened by two men who had apparently been watching them through the windows. Laura and Frankie purposely had made enough noise, wanting these men to react just this way.

"Can we help you ladies?" the taller man asked with a decidedly French accent.

"Well, as you can see, our car has broken down. We were wondering if we could possibly use your phone to call a tow truck," Laura inquired.

"Maybe we could fix it. I'm a marvelous mechanic," the smaller of the two bragged.

"Oh, could you?" Frankie gushed sweetly.

"Sure, no problem."

The men barked something in French to someone behind them and came out. Steele and Cass grabbed one each, putting a gun to their heads and gesturing for them to be quiet. Laura and Frankie pulled out ropes they'd been carrying and quickly tied up the first two thieves. Before putting a gag on the taller man, Steele asked him how many more in the house. Two, he told them before he and Cass took the two men down to the car and placed them bent under the hood, so it looked like they were working on the car.

Once again Laura and Frankie went to the door and knocked. One man appeared this time but the women could see another person lounging on a couch.

"Yes?"

"Your friends," Frankie pointed to the car, "said they need your help."

"Okay."

The third man walked out and left the door open. Cass grabbed him while Steele went in and covered the fourth man, who immediately put his hands up. Laura tied him up while Cass and Frankie shepherded the other men back into the house. Just then a siren could be heard in the distance.

"Hurry, you two don't have much time," Laura advised.

"Where's the stuff?" Cass questioned the taller man.

Gesturing with his head, the thief indicated the bedroom.

"We'll try to keep the cops occupied for a few minutes, guys," Frankie promised.

Steele and Cass headed into the bedroom just as the police car pulled up in front of the house. Laura and Frankie opened the door and greeted Nicky cheerfully. He had come along with his brother and the other police.

"You got them?" Buddy asked Laura.

"All by yourselves?" Rafie looked stupefied.

"Oh no, we had help."

"Where are Cass and Remington?" Nick inquired.

"Oh, they went to..." Before Frankie could finish her sentence, her husband did it for her.

"...check and see if all the stolen property was in the house and it looks like it's all here."

"All of it?" Laura asked her husband, coming over and putting her arms around him.

"All of it." Steele smiled happily.

"Well that's wonderful to hear," Frankie added, hugging Cass. "Anyone up for breakfast?"

"Good idea, Frankie," Laura responded. "I'm famished. You want to come too, Nicky?"

"Sounds great, guys, it'll probably take Buddy a while to finish here."

"No doubt," Cass agreed. "A good night's work, wouldn't you say so, Harry?"

"Oh, definitely, Cass. A very good night's work."

* * *

They had all gathered at the airport to say goodbye. The Steeles were heading back to Los Angeles and the Winthrops home to Bay City. Nick was there with Buddy.

"Well, it's been fun to meet old friends again." Frankie gave Laura and Steele a hug.

"Frankie, bring that husband of yours out to Los Angeles," Steele told her. "And bring yourself. We really never had time to get acquainted.

"We promise Harry, but you and Laura also need to visit us in Bay City."

"Yeah, Remington, it seemed to be a great little town... even in a blizzard," Nick added.

"When are you coming home, Nicky?" Laura asked.

"Tomorrow. I thought I'd spend one more day," Nick answered, giving Buddy a playful punch in the arm.

While Laura and Frankie exchanged goodbyes, Cass dragged Harry off a little ways.

"What did you do with the copy?"

"I still have it, actually."

"Are you going to dispose of it?"

"I was, but Laura decided she wanted to hang up in our bedroom for old times sake."

"Are you going to do it?"

"Probably. It will always remind me of what was... but also how much better now is."

Just then the loudspeaker announced both couples' planes. Cass and Frankie said their final good-byes and started in one direction, while the Steeles headed off in another. As Steele turned around to get one last glimpse of his friends, he thought he saw a familiar figure hurrying over to where, Buddy and Nick stood. He squinted, trying to see better. It looked like Norman Keyes. Steele shook his head and looked back. The man seemed to be gone, along with Buddy and Nick.

"What's the matter?"

"Ah, nothing Laura, my eyes were just playing tricks on me."

Or my past, Steele thought, as he happily headed home with his wife.