Brian Daniel Steele found himself pacing quickly up and down the carpet in his new office. He was waiting impatiently for the investigator assigned to his staff to show up. Ten steps marching toward the door, smartly turn, and ten paces back to the front of his desk. Brian stopped his forward movement, realizing his pacing had become a parade march.
None of that Steele, you're out of the military now, he scolded himself.
Brian glanced around again. He could smell the faint of odor of fresh paint. As the latest hire, he was still a little unsure of himself. He also wondered if his fellow employees could feel his uncertainty. Starting fresh was never easy.
It had taken him some rocky years, but he was finally settling down. He had gone from a naval officer working in intelligence to JAG, where he'd finally found what he truly wanted to do -- work with the law. After leaving the military, with his experience as a prosecuting attorney, he'd applied to and been accepted almost immediately by the Los Angeles District Attorney's office.
He checked the clock again -- the seventh time in the past few minutes. He tried to envision his new investigator. He'd only been given a name -- Charlie Frame. From that, he built a mental profile of his new team member -- an older guy, heavyset and world-weary. Probably disgusted by this assignment to a junior member of the organization.
Brian shook himself out of his reverie, realizing the futility of impatience and speculation. One thing he had learned in the service was that the government grinds slowly. No sense in wasting time wondering about the what was coming; it would arrive soon enough.
He grabbed the file he'd been working on earlier. He started to make a few notes for his law clerk, but found his gaze straying to a photo he'd placed prominently on his desk. It was a picture of his parents, the world famous detectives, Laura Holt and Remington Steele. He smiled. They'd certainly been glad he'd returned to live in Los Angeles. They would never stand in the way of any of his decisions, but he knew they were much happier having him close to home. He had missed them as well. And no matter where he'd been stationed, the City of Angels would always be home.
He returned his attention to the paperwork in front of him, but he really couldn't proceed any farther until the new investigator got there. Charlie Frame was considered an expert in antiquities and Brian needed that expertise. This case involved prosecuting procurers of ancient artifacts and he was lost in that area.
He laughed, as he realized he could have just asked his father for help. Though Remington Steele had not dealt in stolen objects d'art since long before Brian's birth, he still kept track of items purloined and who the new kids on the block were. Well, if this new investigator turned out not to be so hot, he might just seek some help from his dad.
His intercom buzzed and he picked up the phone. "Yes, Jean?"
"Charlie Frame is here, Brian."
"Thanks, Jean send him in, please."
Brian heard the door open as he made one final quick note in the folder. Good, maybe they could wrap this one up now.
"What's the problem, Mr. Steele, don't have the time of day for a female detective?"
Brian's head whipped up immediately at the sound of the feminine voice. Standing before him one was of the most attractive woman he'd ever seen. Charlie Frame -- that couldn't really be her name. She had almost the same coloring as his sister, Katie, except for Charlie's black hair flashed with red highlights.
Brian quickly stood to greet his new team member and was surprised to find himself eye to eye with her. She was tall like his sister, too.
"You didn't answer me, Mr. Steele, do you object to a female detective?"
Brian realized he hadn't said anything, having been struck dumb for the moment. Great, Brian, make a first impression she'll remember you by. "I apologize, Ms. Frame. From your name, I'm afraid I assumed you were..."
"A guy?" Charlie grinned at him mischievously. "Happens all the time."
Brian happily grinned right back at her. She really had a wonderful smile. "And, with my family, that's the last thing I would object too."
Down boy, Brian shook himself mentally. He had met many attractive women over the years and they had never had the kind of affect on him this woman seemed to evoke. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, there was also a familiarity he couldn't get a handle on, as if they'd met before.
"Do you mind driving?" Brian asked. "I'd like to look over the file a little more on the way."
"No problem," Charlie answered, leading the way towards the garage. Brian nabbed the paperwork, hurrying his step to just keep up with the mysterious newcomer.
* * *
Brian watched as Charlie expertly wove her BMW through the congested downtown traffic. He decided to leave the driving in her capable hands and studied the file he had on his lap, but soon found his companion far more interesting than the work at hand.
Brian glanced casually around the car. The interior was pristine. Too bad, sometimes the items spread around a person's car gave you a clue to their habits and hobbies. He couldn't even catch a glimmer of an idea about Charlie Frame's personality, except that maybe she was a neat-freak. Better not let her see his car -- neat did not exactly describe it. His attention turned to the glove compartment in front of him. If only he could check out what she might have hidden there. He did take notice of the radio playing softly in the background. It was tuned to an AM station that played old show tunes twenty-four hours a day. He filed that away for future reference. Maybe a call to Aunt Cait to brush up on old musicals...
Brian caught himself. Oh great, I've inherited way too much of my mother's curiosity. Why do I need to know what music an investigator I work with likes?
Brian concentrated on the road ahead but found himself drawn to studying Charlie's profile instead, trying to identify his feelings of attraction.
"What?" Charlie asked, keeping her eyes on the road but aware of his scrutiny.
"I don't know, I just get the feeling..."
"...you know me from somewhere?" Charlie finished for him. "Maybe you do."
Charlie pulled the car into the impound lot and parked in front of the entrance door.
Brian didn't have time to analyze Charlie's cryptic remark, but promised himself he would get to it as soon as time permitted.
The two got out of the car and headed into the warehouse.
The LAPD impound, which started as one building, had over the years expanded to encompass a great many places to store the vast quantity of evidence.
Brian showed his ID and the list of items they needed to check. An officer was called to escort them through the warehouse to their destination. He left them to return to his own duties once the crates were located and unpacked onto a nearby work table.
"How many pieces are we talking about?" Charlie began to carefully remove some of the items from their protective wrapping.
"At least fifty," Brian answered, helping when he could, but mostly trying to stay out of her way.
After accounting for all the pieces on the list, Charlie started going over each one of them. "Have you had anyone else authenticate these for you?"
"No, why?" The question seemed innocent enough, but Brian felt she was asking something else. Something he wasn't quite getting.
"No reason," Charlie said off-handedly, as she moved over one of the paintings with a magnifying glass. "I just thought you might have asked your father."
"What do you know about my father?" Brian was thrown a bit off by her remark.
"Everyone knows about Remington Steele. I was under the impression he's an expert on fine paintings and jewelry." Charlie looked at him innocently. "Am I wrong?"
She almost sounded like she knew about his father's infamous past, the part that wasn't generally known to the public. But that would be impossible. Nobody except for a select few knew that much.
"He is your father, isn't he?" Charlie reiterated.
"What... oh yeah, I just thought... never mind." Brian stumbled over his words. Why did he think Charlie Frame meant something more by that last remark. "How much longer?"
"Almost done," she replied.
"What's the verdict?"
"Everything here is genuine," Charlie informed him. "Which pieces do you want for the trial?"
"Doesn't matter, why don't you choose," Brian suggested. "This is your area."
"Okay," Charlie agreed picking through some of the paintings carefully, an awkward silence hung between them.
"Where'd you learned so much about antiquities?" Brian tried to get the conversation going again.
"When I was about seven I had an inordinate interest in all things Russian, especially antiques. It just expanded from that point."
"What kind of school teaches art authentication?"
"School? I suppose that's one way." Charlie gave Brian an odd look. "But an old friend of my father's knew of my interest. I suddenly had a lot of time on my hands and he was kind enough to teach everything he knew to me."
"When was that?"
"When I was younger," Charlie told him, seeming to skirt the issue. "These." She pointed to a half dozen paintings and a few more artifacts.
"Okay, let me get the paperwork started then we can get going."
* * *
Charlie opened the trunk of her car and Brian gingerly carried the box containing the selected items. He laid them down in the space Charlie had cleared. Surprisingly, in contrast to the rest of her car, the trunk was a disaster. There seemed to be a number of boxes filled with books, some looked new and others as if they'd seen better days. He couldn't catch all of the titles, but from some of the covers he realized they were all lurid romance novels. The little he had seen of this woman and the opinions he had formed about her did not include this. Noticing one ragged copy on the side, he picked it up.
"Embers in the Snow by Felicia Gallant," he read.
"Thank you, that's mine." Charlie quickly snagged the book out of his hands.
"You read romance novels?" Brian smirked questioningly.
"From the age of six," Charlie stated emphatically.
"Six! At seven you were into antiques. You must have been a major headache to your parents."
"They survived."
"If you don't read them anymore why do you have boxes full of them in your trunk?"
"Because, Felicia Gallant is my godmother, that's why."
Brian clapped. "Oh, good save."
Charlie handed him the old book. "Check the flyleaf."
Brian opened the novel and read the short handwritten note.
Dearest Charlie,
This first edition belongs to you, with love and thanks for your brilliant memory.
Love, your godmother,
Felicia.
"Okay," Brian conceded, flipping to the back where pages had obviously been torn out. "But why is the last chapter missing?
"Oh yeah, Chapter 13. You might say it was my first case in detective work." Charlie grabbed the book again, tossing it in, closing the subject as well as the trunk quite definitively. " I'll tell you about it sometime... maybe."
Brian was even more intrigued by this woman. "How about over dinner tonight?"
* * *
Nestled in the heart of Brentwood, the restaurant wasn't far from where Brian lived. The couple were shown almost immediately to the table. Brian reached for the chair to hold it out for Charlie, but immediately drew back.
"Yuck!" he exclaimed as he looked at what had attached itself to his fingers.
"I'm so sorry, Sir." The waiter was horrified, pulling out a towel to clean Brian's hand. He replaced the offending chair with a new one, holding it out himself for Charlie to sit in.
"Don't worry about it." Brian grimaced again. "Will you excuse me for a minute. I think I need a little more than a towel."
"No problem," Charlie wrinkled her nose in a smile. "Glad you were being the gentleman for me."
Brian quickly washed the goo off, but he still had that nagging feeling that had been with him all day. He continued to puzzle over how he could possibly know Charlie Frame as he left the restroom. He hadn't quite reached the table, when he realized Charlie had company -- a tall blonde man with a strong chin. Brian was even more surprised to discover that the man sitting with Charlie was his friend and almost-cousin, Cassidy Michaels. The two seemed to be familiar with each other, like old friends -- or lovers? Brian frowned unhappily at that thought. He hadn't realized how much he had come to like Charlie in only one day. Disappointed, he fell back on the old saying from his military days about never mixing business with pleasure... okay, that was really mom's saying -- and look how well it worked for my parents. I'm doomed!
Brian couldn't help but stay back and observe the interaction between Charlie and Cass. Hidden perfectly from view, he could see them, easily hearing their conversation.
"So, Charlie, how's it been going?" Cassidy began.
"Great, Cass."
Cass pulled something out of his briefcase and handed it over. "Here's the new book."
She smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks for picking it up."
"No problemo." Cass looked around the table. "So where is he?"
Charlie gestured in the direction of the restroom.
"He hasn't figured it out yet, huh?" Cass laughed delightedly.
"Nope, no surprise though," she declared. "I'm hardly the same person he used to be get irritated with when I tagged along all the time."
Cass nodded. "Yeah, I remember, you felt the same way about me, too."
"Well I always wanted a little brother, Cass, just not underfoot. I wanted it to be at my convenience, not yours."
Brian felt a little better. Obviously they were just friends and he wouldn't be getting between one of his best friends and a possible girlfriend.
"Of course, I may decide not to keep you at arms length." Charlie eyed Cassidy speculatively. "The years I missed seeing you, you grew into a mighty handsome guy."
Brian didn't like the sound of that at all, he sighed unhappily. Maybe they were more than friends.
Cass grinned. "Charlie, all these months and you never let on. You didn't turn out so bad, yourself."
"Give it a rest, Michaels," Charlie groused good-naturedly.
"I did miss you." Cass sobered immediately. "I was too young to understand why you suddenly stopped visiting California."
"I know, I missed you, too."
Cass took Charlie's hand in his own. "It must have been so hard on you. A twelve year old bedridden for so long, especially after the active life you were used to."
"No, it wasn't very fun." Charlie looked wistful. "I think I missed ice skating the most. But it was especially hard on my parents." Charlie frowned for a moment, then brightened immediately. "Hey, my story has a happy ending and I found an unknown calling while I was laid up all those years."
"Yeah, writing romance novels," Cass said soulfully.
"Ya don't have to make it sound so morbid. It paid for college, remember."
Brian listened avidly. Oddly, the story began to sound vaguely familiar, though where he'd heard this before he couldn't quite remember. Suddenly, it all came back to him. It must have been 12 or 13 years ago. An old friend of his father's from the "real old days" had connected up with him in '96 or '97. He recalled that old friend used to visit a lot, with his wife and little girl.
Brian smiled in fond remembrance -- that little girl constantly followed him around, wanting to do everything he did. It used to annoy him greatly. Then suddenly they stopped coming. Brian had secretly enjoyed her hero worship and asked why the Winthrops didn't come around anymore. His mother explained that the girl, Charlotte or Charlie, was very sick and that she needed an operation on her heart, that it would take a long time for her to get better.
Brian hadn't seen Charlie since then, but heard from his parents she'd finally recovered. He had gone on to college and then through the service, forgetting all about his young playmate until now.
No wonder Charlie Frame looked so familiar. And why she had dropped hints about her father and his old habits. The "old friend" of her father's who had taught her all about antiques had been his father, Remington Steele.
Brian returned his attention to Cass and Charlie.
Cass looked around the restaurant. "I wonder where Brian is, he should be back by now don't you think?"
Charlie turned in Steele's direction lowering her voice to a stage whisper. "Why don't you ask him yourself, Cass, he's been right behind that plant listening to our conversation for awhile now."
Cass laughed in delight. "Mr. Steele, didn't your mother ever tell you eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves?" he called.
Brian emerged from his hiding place and smiled wickedly. "She did. But she also taught me it's a great way to learn new things -- you forget who my mother is." He grabbed a chair from the next table, as Cass had commandeered his. Brian looked over at Charlie. "So, Charlotte Winthrop, how have you been?"
"Now you know," Cass stated simply.
"Yup, but why didn't you tell me right out that we knew each other?"
"I was going to, but... this seemed like more fun." Charlie giggled.
"I see," Brian commented and glanced Cass, eyebrow raised. "This game has Michaels written all over it."
"Now, why would you say that, buddy?" Cass snickered.
"Because I know you." Brian glanced at the book lying next to Charlie's hand. It was another romance novel -- The Scarlet Medallion by Charlotte Winthrop. "Those boxes in the trunk? They're your novels, too?"
"Yup, our Charlie's made quite a name for herself in the bodice-ripper market," Cass confirmed.
Our Charlie... Brian liked the sound of that very much, though he still wasn't sure if there was anything going on between these two, but he planned to find out.
Brian smiled knowingly. "That's why you go by your mother's maiden name."
"I always said you were bright, Brian," Cass congratulated him on his acuity.
"Charlotte Winthrop is a romance novelist. Charlie Frame is the detective," Charlie explained.
"Ah, I see." Brian nodded.
"You see what?" Charlie asked suspiciously.
"Wouldn't want anyone at work to know what you do in your spare time, would we?" Brian threatened facetiously.
"There's nothing wrong with romance novels, Brian." she defended.
"Hey, Charlie, I never said there was anything wrong with them. You're the one who changed your name," Brian reminded her.
"I didn't change my name because I write romance novels," Charlie began.
"Oh, right!" Brian was all innocence.
"Fine, I'm not going to argue with you, besides I thought you invited me here for dinner?"
"Yes, I did," Brian agreed.
"I don't see any dinner, Steele, do you?" She gestured dramatically at the empty space in front of her.
Cass observed his two friends' wrangling with interest. Watching them dance around each other for the next few months would be great fun and he was looking forward to seeing how long it would take for them to get together. Of course, Cass reflected dolefully, considering family tradition on both sides, he could be watching them dance around each other for years to come.