This story copyright © 2003 Mia McCroskey

Characters from The Avengers and other sources are the property of their respective owners.

 

[an error occurred while processing this directive] people have read this story since April 2004

 

Blind Trust

Steed becomes a man hunter

Emma stays afloat

 

Chapter 9

 

"We'll see you tonight at the Greenbriar, Steed," Lee patted the top of Steed's rental car -- a pale blue Mustang.

"Drive safely," Amanda added, waving from the sidewalk. Steed waved back and eased the car into gear. He was on the move at last. Peter Peel had turned up -- as Albert Axelrod again -- at a very fancy resort in West Virginia. Steed had asked Lee and Amanda to go there and check in while he lurked in the background. He was sure Peel would be on the lookout for him.

 

"Thanks for taking care of the boys on such short notice, Dottie," Lee said as he opened the door of his Porsche for Amanda.

"Don't mention it, Lee. You can't very well pass up a free trip to the Greenbriar. Even if it is in the middle of the week . . ."

"That's right, mother. Now don't let Phillip get away with not finishing his homework," she glanced up at her sons, who were standing on the front steps.

Once Lee and Amanda had driven away Dorothea "Dottie" West ushered her grandsons inside the house and headed toward the kitchen where Amanda had set out ingredients for dinner. Phillip and Jamie followed her, both boys flopping down on chairs in the adjoining family room.

"So tell me again about this Mr. Steed," she said. Dottie had been away visiting her sister for the weekend and so had missed the Saturday barbeque with the distinguished Englishman.

"He's English," Jamie provided guilelessly.

"Well duh. Mom met him when they went to England last year, Grandma," Phillip said.

"So he's a film maker too?" Dottie asked, since it had been a business trip.

"I guess so. He didn't say," Phillip replied.

"He knows a lot about cars," Jamie said. "But he'd never had a hamburger."

"Oh come on, doufus, he didn't say that. He said he wasn't a connie -- a conno -- Grandma, what's that word?" Phillip looked toward Dottie for guidance.

"Connoisseur?" Dottie suggested.

"Yeah, that's it."

"Well, I'm not sure I'd describe anyone as a hamburger connoisseur," she laughed, "but it sounds like Mr. Steed is a connoisseur of something."

"Wine," Jamie suggested, "and cars. And he kept mentioning some woman. It was funny, actually. Mom and Lee would mention Emma, and he would say ‘Mrs. Peel.' Right?" he looked to his brother for confirmation.

Phillip nodded. "Yeah. It was like he was being all formal about her, but from the way mom and Lee talked about her, they're all good friends."

Dottie looked thoughtful for a moment, "I think she's called here," she said. "Amanda has spoken to an English woman who identified herself as Emma Peel."

"I think it's really mysterious," Jamie said. Phillip snorted at him and Dottie raised her eyebrows inquiringly. "Well, Mr. Steed just showed up here at the end of last week and now he's gone and they're going off on this trip. And they call this woman by different names. I think Lee has gotten Mom involved in something mysterious."

"Why blame Lee?" Phillip asked somewhat defensively, "Maybe it's Mom who's gotten him into trouble."

"Boys! Dottie half shouted. "Nobody's in trouble. Phillip, have you finished your homework?"

"No," the older boy groaned, automatically rising from his chair to head upstairs.

"Jamie, please set the table," Dottie added so as not to seem to be punishing Phillip. She had wanted the conversation to end because the boys had hit upon something that she'd been pondering for some months herself.

 

"Wow," Amanda breathed as Lee navigated the turns of the Greenbriar's long driveway. "I've heard of this place since I was a teenager." She was craning her neck around each turn to take in the beautiful landscaping and the building itself glimpsed now and then through the trees.

"It's something," Lee agreed.

"You've been here before?"

Lee shrugged and reached for her hand. "Not with you."

She smiled and nodded, understanding his way of telling her that past relationships were over.

"So we're using Simpson?" she asked to change the subject.

"Yup. Mr. And Mrs." he grinned at her, thinking as she was of all the times they'd used those aliases when they were not involved with one another and how it had sometimes caused considerable awkwardness.

 

Lee wasn't at all surprised when the bellhop who loaded their bags on a trolley and guided them to their room was a mustachioed and bespectacled Steed. Once inside their room he shut the door and began unloading their bags.

"He's here," he said, "Room 405."

"Why haven't you just arrested him?" Amanda asked. "Not that I don't want to stay and enjoy the resort a little."

"I haven't been able to get close enough. If he sees me he'll bolt. I need your help to pen him."

"You have a plan?"

"I'm working on it. Your input will be most welcome," Steed said as he opened the door and stepped into the hall. "I hope everything is to your liking, sir, madam, he said nodding at Amanda. Please ring if you need anything."

 

"I'll have the trout," Lee said, glancing up at Steed as he handed him his menu.

"Very good sir," Steed nodded curtly. His hair was short and white and he seemed to be a couple inches shorter due to shoulders stooped with age. Lee had not immediately recognized him. Amanda was also disguised, her hair wrapped in a fashionable scarf and her bright brown eyes obscured behind thick-lensed glasses. "He's across the dining room at the table to the right of the big fichus. With the blond," Steed muttered as he noted Lee's order.

Lee glanced across the room. "They look like a matched set," he muttered back. The corners of Steed's mouth curled. "Who is she?"

"I'm not sure. I'd like to find out before grabbing him. I don't think he's suspicious yet, so we can probably wait until tomorrow."

 

A note slipped under Lee and Amanda's door asked them to take an early morning swim. They found Steed dressed in shorts and a loose short-sleeved shirt using a long handled brush to sweep the sides of the swimming pool. They settle into a pair of lounges at the water's edge.

"She's an actress -- small roles mostly," Steed said, eyes focused on the brush under the water.

"That's why she looked familiar!" Amanda whispered. She wore a big sunhat and enormous dark glasses. Lee felt exposed in his swim trunks and polo shirt -- not a disguise at all. "She was in that silly movie Jamie dragged us all to see last fall. What was it?" Amanda paused, trying to remember. Lee jumped in to end her ramble.

"Did he meet her here on purpose, or is it a happy accident?"

"Hard to say. We haven't yet turned up any previous connection between them." Steed crouched as if to examine a particularly dirty spot on the poolside.

"If she's just an honest actress, we may be able to enlist her," Lee speculated.

"I was thinking the same thing. To really succeed at what I want to do, we need access to his offshore accounts before we nab him. I wasn't holding out much hope, but his new friend is encouraging."

"So you want to hold off, try to approach her?"

"I'd like Amanda to approach her," Steed stood up and started walking along the poolside with his brush -- he couldn't stay in one spot too long without looking suspicious. Amanda got up and wandered toward the pool steps, which were ahead of Steed in his circuit. As he approached she dipped her toe in the water.

"May I swim while you clean?" she asked him in a normal voice.

"Yes of course, miss," he replied in a rather good American accent.

"Word among the staff is that she swims every morning, right around now, while he's still in his room," he added in a whisper.

"All right. I'll see what I can find out." Amanda smiled dismissively at Steed as she went back to her lounge to set down her hat and glasses and take off the brightly colored sarong that covered her one-piece swimsuit. Steed gathered his pool cleaning tools and disappeared just a moment before Peter Peel's friend appeared on the pool deck.

Lee pretended to doze on his lounge as he watched Amanda and the other woman swim laps in the large, decoratively shaped pool. After a while he heard Amanda's voice, answered by another woman. He couldn't hear the words, but from the tone he could tell Amanda had succeeded in starting a conversation.

 

"Her name is Lisa Manning. She says she met him here yesterday morning. She's completely infatuated with him -- she says it's the accent," Amanda smiled at Steed, who arched one eyebrow at her. There was no way for him not to think of Emma when presented with the facts of Peter Peel's charm. She had once fallen for it just as this Lisa Manning was.

"That's not good," Lee observed. "She may not be so willing to betray him if she's falling for him."

"I said infatuated, Lee, not in love. There is a difference," Amanda said.

"Okay, so what do we do with this difference?" Lee asked, just a little annoyed. He took a bite of toast and looked at her curiously as he chewed. Steed had slipped into their room after Amanda's swim and they'd ordered breakfast.

"I steered the conversation toward honesty, and I think it's very important to her. If he's not telling her where he gets his money -- and I'm sure he's not -- then she'll probably not approve if she finds out he's lying to her. Plus she won't approve of what he's done."

"And just how, pray tell, did you get that sort of information from her?" Steed asked.

"Oh, I complained that I thought the restaurant had tried to overcharge us, asked her if she'd had any trouble. It built from there."

"I suppose you slapped the blame on your poor waiter, too," Steed grumbled, but he was impressed with Amanda's technique. "Here's the dossier on her that I put together," he pulled a notebook out from inside his shirt and handed it to Amanda. "I hope you can read my handwriting, I took all of the information over the phone. You come up with some more approaches to her. I've got to get back out there and keep an eye on Sir Peter. I'll make contact with you early this afternoon."

Steed rose and slipped out the door. Amanda looked from the notebook to Lee.

"He sure does have to be in charge, doesn't he?" she asked, shaking her head.

Lee laughed, taking the notebook from her to flip it open and skim the pages of neatly written notes.

 

"I would recommend a glass of the chardonnay with that, sir. We have a very nice French vintage by the glass or --."

"I'll try this one, from Washington State," the bulky, bald man in a plaid shirt pointed to a cheaper wine on the list and held it up in front of Steed's face. Steed tried not to grimace as he took the list and noted the man's selection. Washington State. Now there's a world-class viticultural area. He stepped away from the table, pausing to make notes and eavesdrop on Peter Peel, to whom he had his stoop shouldered back.

"It's all set, darling. But we should get to the stable in thirty minutes," Peel was saying.

"All right Albert. If they have boots there, then I suppose I'm ready to go," his companion replied. Steed concluded his notes and turned toward the kitchen door, noticing Lee and Amanda appear in the entranceway as he did.

A disturbance behind him forced him to half turn, not wanting to face Peel but needing to know what was going on. Lisa was leaning back in her chair, her hands raised in front of her to block her face from the camera being pointed at her by a wiry little man with a beard. Peel jumped up as the flashbulb went off, knocking the camera from the man's hands and punching him squarely in the jaw. The man went down with a cry. Peter turned back to Lisa and grabbed her by the elbow, hauling her up.

"Come on," he said, "Let me get you out of here."

The pair brushed past Lee and Amanda and several other people without noticing them. Steed bent over the injured photographer, who was starting to sit up. Lee stepped up close as well, playing concerned guest.

"Go to the stables," Steed instructed Lee quietly, hands braced on the photographer's shoulders as if he were supporting him. Lee could see the man starting to look anxious through his pain. Steed was actually holding him down, not helping him. "Stay with them."

Lee took Amanda's arm and led her away without a word. Steed rose, pulling the photographer to his feet.

"There now, that's better," he said in his American accent. "Let's just get you to some first aid, shall we?" He put a supportive, restraining arm around the fellow and escorted him through the swinging kitchen door. Behind him he heard the man in the plaid shirt shout something about his lunch order.

He kept going, marching the still stunned man out the back door to the garbage cans, then pressing him against the wall of the building with one forearm arm across his collarbone. He used his free hand to search through his jacket pockets until he came up with a wallet. The man squirmed and protested, but Steed's strength and size were overpowering.

"So Mr. Jackson, I don't see any sort of press identification here," Steed said, holding up the man's wallet and staring coldly into his eyes. Jackson's brows knit and he tried again to pull Steed's arm away from his chest.

"I'm freelance," he snarled.

"Why were you taking their picture? What's the story you're working on?"

"She's an actress."

"What's her name?"

"I don't know!" he nearly wailed. "I don't know. Look, the man gave me five hundred bucks. Told me to come in and snap their picture. He didn't even want the photo -- he just wanted it to be public. He never said he was going to slug me."

Steed dropped the man's wallet and moved away from him. "Seems like you earned your five hundred dollars," he said angrily. Five hundred dollars of Knight's money.

 

Lee and Amanda returned to their room to change in to clothes suitable for riding, then hurried across the resort grounds to the stable. The two blonds were riding away from the stable yard just as they arrived. Lee did his best not to seem anxious as he arranged for two horses. When the stable manager told him it would take a few minutes he couldn't help pacing the yard. Amanda strolled along the bridle path until it topped a low rise. From there she could see Peel and Lisa walking their horses sedately. She tried to signal Lee that all was well so far, but he was paying no attention to her.

 

Steed stripped off his waiter's jacket, leaving him in the less obvious black slacks and shoes and a white shirt. He hurried up the stairs to the fourth floor and trotted along the corridor toward room 405. Just as he reached it the door opened, so he kept walking to room 407 and stopped as if opening the door. A man came out of Peter Peel's room carrying two suitcases. He shut the door and walked down the hall toward the elevators. Steed waited until he'd entered one, then bolted back to the stairs, taking them two and three at a time. He emerged in the lobby as the man was exiting through the front doors. Steed strode quickly after him, darting to the side on the wide front veranda to stand behind a column and watch the man load the bags into a big, two-tone American car. Steed memorized the license plate and watched the man get into the car and pull out around the circular drive.

Peel's plan became crystal clear in an instant. He had to get to the stables.

 

"Ready Amanda?" Lee held her horse's head as she stood on the mounting block and lifted her foot toward the stirrup.

"Wait!" Steed came around the corner of the stable at a dead run. Amanda paused to look at him as her horse skittered sideways in surprise. "Where are they?" Steed came to a stop beside Lee, who was struggling with the startled horse.

"Out on the trails. Amanda was watching them until a minute ago when our horses were ready," Lee replied, his attention half on Steed and half on the horse. Steed reached out and took the reins on either side of the bit, gently lowering the horse's head toward his own chest. The horse calmed down.

"Someone's just taken out his luggage in a car. I'll go after them. You two go see if her room's also vacated, and run the license plate," he recited the plate number and Amanda repeated it. "I'm willing to bet he's going to rendezvous with that car somewhere out here."

"Then we should come help you stop them," Lee protested.

"I only have to stop him, she'll be no trouble. And I'm best alone on horseback," he moved around to the stirrup, "Besides, if I fail, I don't want you involved. He doesn't know you're after him too, so you still have a chance to get close next time."

He sprang up onto the horse, seized the reins, and kicked it into an immediate gallop, heading for the bridle path.

"Next time!" Lee shouted, thinking that Billy was probably already unhappy enough.

"Come on," Amanda said, putting a hand on Lee's shoulder to hop down off the mounting block. "Let's go check on her room."

 

Steed was glad that Amanda was tall with long legs: the stirrups on the saddle that had been adjusted for her were almost long enough for him. It was a western saddle, usually ridden with the feet lower than he was used to, so he didn't mind his slightly bent knees at all. The horse was well trained and willing, and together they covered a lot of ground quickly. The bridle trail was well marked and Steed had no choice but to follow it, although he feared that Peel might have turned off of it and headed cross country. He scanned the sides of the trail for signs of horses leaving it.

When the terrain changed from woodland to grassy rolling hills Steed got a break. He spotted two riders, their light-haired heads shining in the sunlight, topping a hill off to the left. A few strides later he spotted hoof prints in the grass leading off the trail. He turned his horse to follow them.

As if he'd triggered a warning, the two riders spurred their horses to a run and vanished over the hill. Steed crouched over his mount's neck, urging it to greater speed. Topping the next hill he spotted them climbing one up ahead. He had gained on them.

On the next rise he saw them veering further to the left, entering another wooded area along a dirt road. He shifted direction, making straight for the woods, wondering why they had not gone straight and hoping it was because Peel wasn't quite sure where he was going and not because of a concealed obstacle.

It was an obstacle: a stream in the valley between two hills. Peel and Lisa had traversed it at a small bridge that was part of a the road they were now on, while Steed's horse approached it from the top of a hill, half running, half sliding on it's hocks down the steep slope. The animal sprang with a grunt at the bottom of the slope, carrying itself and Steed across the stream and bounding up the far side with several mighty heaves. Steed patted its withers happily as they turned left onto the road, now just a quarter mile behind the other two riders.

 

Lee quickly picked the lock on the door to Lisa's room. It was empty, the bed unmade, but no sign of any personal belongings.

"She'd packed too. She knew they were leaving," Amanda said with a frown.

"But does she know why?" Lee wondered, double-checking the bathroom.

"Let's call in the license plate and see what that tells us -- maybe she arranged this to get away from the photographer," Amanda said. "You know, I think I read something in People magazine about her recently. She got a lot of publicity for breaking up with that actor in that science fiction series."

Lee came out of the bathroom and shook his head in amusement at his wife. "Remind me not to make fun of you reading that stuff," he said.

 

A long, high pitched whistle wailed across the valley as Steed came out of the trees behind the other riders. A trailing plume of smoke approached at the head of a long dark line snaking across the land. The road along which Peel and Lisa galloped took them on an intercepting course with the approaching train. Steed begged his horse for more speed and the animal responded as best it could. But it was already sweating heavily and flecks of foam flew back from its mouth to moisten Steed's shirt.

Steed watched as the train and his quarry approached a single point not far ahead. They might make it across the tracks ahead of the train. If they did not, they would have little room to turn their horses. At first he prayed that they would not beat the train, and then, in the last seconds, he prayed that they did, for they would not be able to stop in time and he did not wish to see the horses, or Lisa Manning, killed.

The train whistle shrieked again, the engineer seeing the riders and warning them to turn back. Steed held his breath as riders and train seemed to converge. And then the train filled his vision and the riders were gone.

 

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