WCBB - Frozen - Elledeegee - Chapter 4
(Chapter 4)
Elizabeth stood up, holding out her hand as Peter smiled and moved to take it. They should just enjoy the holiday, the nagging at the back of his mind and that gut feeling something was wrong still with him as the agent stood. He immediately jumped, something buzzing in his pocket as Peter pulled the cell from his pocket and glanced down. He blinked a moment, the number unfamiliar but he opened the message thinking it could be someone from work.
Text Message from Unknown:
Jimmy Burger
Peter was confused, looking at the time stamp and short message but finally understanding its meaning as memory of a former case hit him. Elizabeth peeked over at the screen, curious what he was looking at.
“Hun? Who is it?”
El was calm, Peter uncertain what to say. He felt relief wash over him but now with this random message, that wasn’t so random, he wasn’t sure what to feel. He showed it to his wife as El read the two words and blinked.
“Jimmy Burger…?”
Her eyes lit up and that’s when he knew she remembered the incident with Neal and the clinic. The con had just been trying to help June and her granddaughter but things had almost turned out badly.
“Does it say where he sent it from? Hun… Is it really him?”
They were now both in shock from the surprise text but Peter had a job to do. Vacation or not, he had to find a way to get in touch with whomever had sent this text and find Neal’s location.
“Just unknown. If… It might be a burner. I need to call Jones to get a fix on the GPS if there is one. I might have to leave…”
He was feeling terrible, disappointing his wife with their visit to their in-laws. She shook her head, El taking his chin with her right hand and kissing him on the lips.
“Do what you have to do hun. I’ll be here. Make sure he’s safe then come back to me.”
()()()
Peter looked up an old friend of his, the local Bureau office a small one in a nearby town. He’d felt awful leaving his wife alone with her parents but she was safe. He just had to find a way to track the call and all he could think of was his old classmate who just happened to be here.
“Peter! What brings you to my neck of the woods? How long has it been?”
Patrick Harris was a tall, dirty blond haired man with flecks of gray here and there indicating he might be a bit older than Peter but he was still a very distinguished looking figure. His chocolate brown eyes blinked back in surprise and genuinely seemed happy to see the agent. They gave a short handshake that turned into a quick man hug before the other agent smiled broadly and hit him with a friendly slap across the shoulders.
“5 years I think. The last alumni dinner maybe? How is the family?”
Peter did his best not to be too hasty on his reasons for being there. Technically his friend could just as easily want to turn Neal in for running but he was hoping their friendship and past acquaintance would make Patrick help him.
“Good… good. Marion is still teaching at the university and Max just got picked for the High School Intramural Softball team. Go Rockets! He’s taller than his father now and more athletic but I help him practice when I can. How is Elizabeth? Any children yet?”
Patrick nudged him in a friendly manner but Peter just shook his head with a slight blush, smiling as he shrugged.
“No time. Between El’s business and my fieldwork, Satchmo is our baby. I think you remember our yellow lab.”
They chit chatted a bit longer, Peter trying to get to the point but finding it hard to know if he could trust his friend. He had been burned too much by the system and one false step could get him in deep even though Neal needed his help. If Patrick couldn’t help, he would have to do what he could on his own.
“Yes of course… but let’s get to the real reason you’re here…”
The agent’s tone had changed but not in a bad way. He noticed the confidential manner, relaxed tone and then something else.
“I was just going to take off for the day. Crime never stops but I have some shopping to do before the holidays begin. Mind joining me?”
Patrick gave him a certain look, something Peter recalled from the good old days when they could read the others minds. They’d been on the same team at Quantico, always one step ahead of the others due to their inexplicable means of silent communications. He nodded back.
“Sure. I need to find something for my in-laws. Supposed to be there now but had to come do some last minute shopping.”
The two acted normally, chit chatting about this and that with their families as they left the office and went out to the street. Peter offered his car but Patrick shook his head.
“Let’s walk. The mall’s just around the corner.”
Patrick’s tone made him think something was up but he nodded, the two walking a block over to a large shopping center. Once they were away from the offices, his friend leaned over.
“This is about Caffrey, isn’t it.”
The easy tone and wording made the agent pause a moment before he answered, uncertain what would happen next.
“You’ve heard? I was hoping… well, news spreads fast I guess. What were you told?”
He kept it quiet, cool. No need to show his hand if he didn’t have to but his friend just patted him on the shoulder as they entered the mall.
“Nothing beyond the bulletins actually… just friendly concern. I think your friend may have been kidnapped by someone I’ve been investigating.”
Peter blinked in surprise at the comment but Patrick acted like they were just discussing a football game or something, leading him over to what appeared to be a small sports bar in the food court.
“Are you hungry?”
()()()
Neal had been swallowed up by the darkness, odd sounds emanating from the gloom making him twitch and respond as much as he could in his weakened state. He sensed someone nearby, touching him on the forehead and faint voices.
His fever is down but he’s still got a ways to go…
He’s more tenacious than I figured…
The voices were not familiar but they were faint enough he could hear them, the darkness making him want to see who was talking as he fought for consciousness.
I think he’s waking up. Go in the other room. I’ll deal with this.
This was the second voice, the tone less than kind but he fought to know who regardless. How long had he been unconscious? Neal felt his lips part, a gasping sound evident as he took a deep breath, body spasming with aches and pains he hadn’t felt while in his deep sleep. He twitched, eyes still not open as he heard himself breathing hard at first then more calmly as he relaxed and consciousness slipped over him. He opened his eyes cautiously, uncertain who he might see as the con found a blurry scene before him. The room was dark wood paneled, the bed a real mattress so he wasn’t in a hospital unless it was some kind of private clinic. IV’s were attached to him with clear liquid he didn’t recognize. It took him a moment to realize he’d been placed in dry clothes but he was still grimy. Now he was starting to remember. He’d been in a well…
“Mr. Ashton… how are you feeling?”
His eyes turned in response to the voice before his head did. It took a moment for Neal’s memory to come back about who was talking but soon his pulse quickened. Jack Eckert. Now he remembered… The con shifted his body, aches evident as he gave a weak groan but he wanted to get away, finding himself unable to move much if any. His vision was clearer, more focused as he looked down and saw he was bound to the bed with straps around his wrist and body holding him down. Jack smiled at him.
“I did a little digging after your escape. You’re not just a security expert are you, Jeremy. In fact… There’s an escaped fugitive who’d be an excellent match for your looks…”
Neal had stopped obviously trying to fight his bonds but that didn’t stop him from trying to find a way to slip out of them. They were too tight for the con to do more than watch as Eckert pulled out a piece of paper, the size of a wanted poster.
“I’d say the bounty on your head is worth keeping you alive. I just have to collect on this and you’re back in prison for life. A waste of your talents but no hair off my chin.”
The man smiled coldly at him, Neal wanting to speak but he was still too exhausted from his ordeal, throat dry from lack of water. He saw a pitcher beside the bed, licking his dry lips as Jack smirked back, laying the wanted poster on Neal’s lap.
“Chasing you was thirsty work but the payout looks like it will be spectacular. I just have to call the Feds… unless you give me reason otherwise.”
Eckert poured himself a glass of water, Neal watching as the man slowly sipped at the glass before putting it aside. There was a second glass sitting empty nearby, unused.
“That job I was going to have you do… much more of a pay off but quick money is just as good. Don’t you agree, Mr. Caffrey?”
Neal watched him cautiously, knowing what the man was asking him, but too tired to respond to the request or the fact he had been made. His memory was still a bit foggy on what had happened to him recently but he knew he’d hoped to be found by someone other than this man. His eyes went back to the water, throat and mouth dry as a desert. Jack coughed, drawing his attention back to him.
“Not sure you want to drink or eat anything too quickly. You’ve been in a bad way for three days. My physician has you on a saline drip. If my men hadn’t have found you… the elements or something else would have. Anyhow… rest. We’ll talk when you’re feeling more cooperative.”
The man patted him on the head like a child, Neal wanting to spit on him but he was too tired much more there was little saliva to expel until his body had recovered to waste on his captor. He struggled with the bindings but Jack just clucked his tongue at him.
“Those are for your own good. In your weakened condition, would hate to have you hurt yourself.”
Jack smiled like a predator that had cornered its prey, leaving the con alone as the door to the room closed behind him, a click of the lock indicating that even with his injuries and bindings, they thought he might escape. Good. Neal didn’t want to stick around if he could help it. The con was tired but he pulled at the bindings, soft ones like they use on mental patients so he could get free with some work. The only problem was he’d been unconscious when they put them on so the bindings had little room for him to navigate, his bones popping in both hands as he worked on forcing them free. He almost had one when the sound of a bolt being pulled back was heard. Someone was coming as he slumped back and pretended to be asleep.
“He’s not going anywhere. Trust me. He’s too malnourished. Of course…”
The voice, a new one was talking to someone and he cracked an eye open to see that a man in a white polo top and tan khaki pants was easing into the room with what looked like a tray of food. Something that smelled like oatmeal or grits was filling his nose with a wonderful aroma, a low grumbling from his stomach the only sound to give him away as he tried to remain in his pose of sleep.
“Of course… Yes, I’ll remember that. Yes… bye already. Geesh…”
The man placed the tray of food on the nightstand on the other side of the bed, Neal watching him quietly but then closed his eyes as he tried to look relaxed as if he hadn’t woken up. The man talked to himself, a beep indicating he had put the phone on standby as he grumbled slightly.
“Keep him alive after everything you did to him… I’d rather let him go.”
The man kept muttering to himself, Neal feeling his bindings being loosened despite everything. Maybe he would be able to get away without a hitch…
“Can’t take a proper blood sample or pressure count if he’s bound up.”
The last strap was removed and Neal took his chance, hoping his body would cooperate. It did to a point, pushing the man aside with a groan as he rolled off the opposite side of the bed. He had barely taken two steps towards the door when he collapsed, his body reacting to days without food or water. Someone was nearby, the door shutting with a click as gentle hands helped him sit up and he found himself staring up into surprised hazel eyes. Neal made to run again but the man stopped him.
“You’re not in a position to run much more, the guard outside will stop you. Trust me. He’s not a lightweight.”
The man was being kind, honest but not because he wanted to, his manner very matter of fact. Neal wanted to speak but suddenly he felt exhausted, slumping against the man who supported his weight and gently led him back to the bed where he was gently laid back against the soft mattress. His body refused to move, rebelling on him from the abuse he’d been through as he felt someone adjust his position on the bed so he was more comfortable before he felt the pinch of the saline drip back into his arm. That made him open his eyes again, staring up at the man curiously but mostly his vision was in and out of focus as he squinted up at the figure the get a better idea who he was dealing with.
“Jack is an idiot but you didn’t hear me say that. He doesn’t know the subtleties of negotiation. I could have easily provided him something to make you more pliable than starvation.”
Neal felt himself wake up a bit more, his brow furrowing with worry at the man’s words before he heard the man chuckle, a low humorless laugh.
“My apologies. My name is Mel Saunders. There is food if you want to try eating. I’ve had you on the drip a few days so you might be able to take something in. Water?”
The man held up the glass Neal had eyed earlier, the con nodding despite himself. He was licking his dry lips but there was little moisture still in his mouth to help the situation as he took a slow, uncertain sip then another. The man helped him sit up and drink and somehow his body took the sips, three in fact before the man pulled the glass away.
“Slow steps. Try a bit of food.”
The man adjusted the bed so he was sitting up enough to take the small spoonful of grits. Neal was uncertain he wanted to eat them but his body was craving nutrients, his mouth taking the bite before he had time to think it through. The grits were warm, soft and slid down his tight throat easily. His stomach gurgled ever so slightly but he didn’t feel nauseated as the man held up another spoonful for him.
“Two more bites if you’re not feeling ill. Baby steps.”
The man smiled at him despite everything, Neal feeling more at ease but still taking a cautious view of the situation. The food could be spiked but he didn’t feel any more tired than before, taking the few bites of food he was allowed before the man helped him sip some water, putting everything aside and grinned.
“Much as I’d like to hope Jack doesn’t get his way for once, you’re going to be ok if you can eat this much so soon. Let me do my work up on you before I go, then you can rest.”
()()()
Peter went back to his car, his friend Patrick bidding him goodbye before heading back to his office with a promise to help behind the scenes. He’d actually been relieved to have help nearby and not more of the same “he’s just a criminal” thrown at him as most of the agents other than Jones and Diana tended to do. Neal was so much more than a criminal and he knew if the con had taken off on his own it had been for a good reason. Actually he knew it had been for a worthy reason although at the cost of adding more years to the already parole weary young man’s time. If anything he was brash and impulsive… He stopped mid thought, grabbing his phone from his jacket as it buzzed quietly.
“Hey hun… no, everything’s fine. How are… oh… tell your mother I’ll be there tomorrow. Yes. I have a possible lead. Not yet but hopefully soon. Love you.”
The agent smiled as he hung up the cell, pushing it into his pocket after a moment of thoughtful contemplation. He should be with his wife and his in-laws but he was out here looking for… his friend. He easily pushed the stigma of criminal away from the young man now. Too much had happened in their past for them to be any more than friends and now that he knew how much his “friend” had given up for him, guilt at his recent behavior washed over him. Justice hadn’t been there for him as he’d hoped, a criminal the one who fought to free him when those he thought were his friends and colleagues were willing to toss him aside like… like a criminal. He just wanted to…
“Smith… I didn’t know you were in town…”
Peter didn’t react at first but then someone walked up and he realized they were talking to him. It was Andrew Cutter. The man was dressed for the weather but more casually than when he’d last seen him, obviously off for the holidays. Peter did his best to smile and act like the man he had been on that day only a couple of weeks ago.
“Mr. Cutter… I hope you’re not still holiday shopping.”
He was casual as he could be but still thinking about the talk he’d had with Neal the last time he was here. Had it really been two weeks? Cutter smiled and held up a hand.
“Call me Andy… we’re not in the office and no, I was just out for a walk. My wife is shopping nearby. How about you?”
He held out his hand, Peter taking it as they shook and stood on the sidewalk in the cool air. The walks were mainly shoveled with only a bit of slush on the sides at the curb or along the sides of the stairs as they chit chatted a moment.
“Call me Peter then… My wife is with her folks but I wanted to do some last minute shopping. They live a few miles outside of town…”
He had barely said that when Andy nodded, smiling at him curiously then shaking his head as if the thought was too silly to mention. The action made him curious as they continued their chat, interrupted by the buzzing of Cutter’s phone.
“Looks like my wife is calling me. Having as many siblings as we both do, lots of nieces and nephews to shop for. It was nice chatting with you, Peter. Let me know if you have any questions about our services.”
The last part seemed to be a question not only about his alias’ last visit but also related to Neal’s sudden departure. At least it seemed that way to him as the man shook his hand again and they parted ways, Peter to his car and Andy to a figure of a well dressed woman across the street. When they were out of sight, the agent took out his phone and stared at it a moment before scrolling to the text he’d received. Jimmy Burger. Neal knew that would get a response but what sort of trouble was the con man in and would Peter find his friend in time. Patrick had told him about Eckert and he’d felt a need to ask Cutter but there hadn’t been time to think of a reason why without sounding like a Fed as Mozzie would say. His cell buzzed again, the agent pulling it out again. It was Jones.
“Boss, I have that info for you. It looks like this Eckert person has his hands in several pies. There’s nothing to prove him guilty of taking Caffrey or anything else your friend told you about but he has conveniently been at some scenes where mysterious but natural deaths have occurred.”
Peter blinked, listening to the whole story before putting in his two cents.
“Hunting and car accidents but no proof he’s guilty of sabotage or theft?”
He heard a confirmation from the agent as he tried to figure out what Eckert’s game was. The people who had died near him were associated with large holds on companies he wanted, control of assets he was in need of or skill sets such as database and computer manipulation that would be invaluable while the person did his bidding. He wondered why they were interested in Neal but something about what he’d seen in the files told him he could guess.
“Keep digging, Jones and thanks.”
The call ended and Peter was again alone with his thoughts, wondering what would be the best way to find Eckert. They’d done a trace on the burner phone but it had been general to say the least, showing the call from a mostly forested area outside of town to the west. There were a few cabins out that way but to search each and every one on a whim would get him demoted if not piss off the local authorities and he had no jurisdiction here. Thankfully Patrick was working on a search in the area so that was one element he could count on but how soon the con would be found before Eckert found him irrelevant was what worried him.
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