White Collar fic "When it rains, it pours" Parts 2 & 3
When it rains, it pours
See Chapter 1 for more information
Chapter 2
Startled in his thoughts by the knock on his door, Peter looked up and realized that he had a visitor standing behind the large glass windows. He waved him in and waited until he had taken a seat. "Neal. What's up?"
Neal smiled. "It's lunch break. Come on. I'll pay."
Peter looked at his watch. "Oh, seems I lost track of time." Then he thought about the offer for a moment. "Thanks for the invitation. But I'm already supplied." With one hand he pointed to sandwich wrapped in foil. In order to not have to interrupt his work, he earlier had sent out a probie to get him something to eat from the cafeteria. The more distraction he got with work, the less he had to think of El.
"Elizabeth will kill me if she finds out what you're eating here. You need something decent."
"I could say the same about you," Peter retorted. He was still worried about Neal's thin figure.
"That's why I want to go out to eat. Come on now. My boss demands that I'm back on time."
…
While they waited for their food to be served, Peter reached inside his jacket pocket and frowned. Then he realized that he had forgotten his cell phone at the office. "Oh great," he mumbled, blaming himself for his own forgetfulness.
"What?" Neal asked, sipping his soda.
"I wanted to text El, but I forgot my cell on my desk," Peter said.
Without hesitation, Neal held out his own cell. "Here. Take mine."
"No, no problem," Peter waved his hand. Under no circumstances did he want to look like a lovesick teenager, who couldn't stay away half a day from his flame. "I'll text her when we're back."
The waiter brought them their orders. A Panini sandwich for Peter and a fruit salad for Neal.
"How long will Elizabeth be out of town?" Neal wanted to know.
"Until Friday," Peter answered, sounding a bit frustrated, because he didn't like the thought at all.
"Oh my," Neal muttered and quickly shoved a forkful of fruit salad in his mouth.
Peter had just heard what Neal had said. Nevertheless, he played the ignorant. "What did you just say?"
"Nothing."
"I heard you. It sounded suspiciously like "Oh my" to me."
"I'm just saying!" Neal shrugged. "Elizabeth is just gone for three days. If your mood stays the same for the rest of the week, then…"
At first, Peter wanted to reply something, but then he realized that Neal had - once again - nailed it. Luckily he still had Satchmo. So at least someone was waiting for him to come home at the evening. "And what do you suggest?"
"Oh, there are so many ways to spend the evenings," Neal answered immediately. "I've heard about some very interesting art exhibitions-"
"No, Neal. We will NOT going to art museums."
"But-"
"I've said no."
"Peter!"
Oh, how he had missed those little battles of words last week! Especially when Neal started to pout like a toddler. So he decided to play along. "We could watch some games on ESPN."
"If that's supposed to be a joke, it isn't funny at all."
Yeah, he had definitely missed it. Peter grinned mischievously. "Eat your salad."
…
Back at the office, Neal sat down at his desk while Peter went to his office straight away, because he wanted to send a text message to Elizabeth as soon as possible. But unfortunately he didn't get very far. After a few steps he was approached by Jones.
"Boss?"
"Yes?"
The agent handed him a file. "I need a few more signatures from you."
Peter looked at his watch. "Can't that wait? I have something else on my list first."
"No problem," Jones nodded.
Just as Peter wanted to go, Neal came up to him. "Neal, I need some time-"
Neal seemed to be worried. "Peter, Elizabeth is on the phone," he said while he held out his cell phone to Peter. "She said she couldn't reach you."
"And that's why she called you," Peter concluded and took the cell. "Hon? I'm sorry, I forgot my cell at the office and-" He broke off, because Elizabeth interrupted him.
"Peter, it's about your father!" Her voice sounded excited.
Peter raised one eyebrow and looked at Neal, who shrugged helplessly and obviously had no idea what was going on. "Come again, El. I don't understand," he stammered into the cell and went to his office so he could talk in private.
"Your mother tried to reach you for at least 1 hour."
"What happened?" Peter wanted to know. His gut feeling told him that something was wrong. He walked around his desk and immediately saw his cell phone laying on top of some files. A quick glance at the display told him that he had missed 10 calls, 8 from his mother and 2 from Elizabeth. Suddenly he had a very bad feeling, because normally his mother wouldn't call him during working hours. And most certainly not for so many times.
"Your father suffered a heart attack. You have to call your mother immediately. She's devastated."
"Yes, but...," Peter didn't know what to say and let himself sink slowly into his chair.
"Peter! You have to call Lucy!"
"What? Oh, yeah, yeah, I'll-I'll call her right away." A thousand things raced around his head at the same time and made it hard for him to think straight. "I-"
"I'm going to end the call, alright? If you know more, please call me back. I love you, Hon."
For how long he had been staring at the cell in his hand, he couldn't tell, but then he was startled by a knock on his door.
"Peter? Everything okay with you?" Neal peeked through the door, but chose to stand outside.
"Huh? Yes. No. I don't know." He still thought he had misunderstood Elizabeth.
Without waiting for permission, Neal stepped in and frowned. "Now you're scaring me. You look pale."
"My father," he simply said, looking directly at Neal. "He's had a heart attack."
"Is he okay? Can I do something for you?" Neal offered his help instantly.
"I have to call my mother first."
Nodding and without objections, Neal turned around and left the office. Outside, he met Diana and spoke to her briefly. She looked inside; her facial features clearly showed her empathy towards Peter.
With trembling fingers Peter took the handset from his telephone and started to dial the number from his parents. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes while he waited. With each free line signal that went unanswered, his pulse quickened. After what seemed to be an eternity, the call was accepted, but it wasn't his mother on the other end of the line.
"Rob-Robert? It's me. What's going on?" While he listened to his younger brother, a cold shiver ran down Peter's spine. "And what did the doctors say?" Squinting his eyes, Peter tried to memorize all the given information, but still wasn't satisfied. "Then you have to ask them again...where's Mom now? Okay, yeah...I understand...I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Bye." The color had drained from his face while he sat motionless for a few moments trying to collect himself. He ran a hand over his face and struggled to think clearly.
"Any news?"
Peter looked up and saw Neal standing in front of his desk. He hadn't realized that Neal had been back. "Not much so far. He," Peter cleared his throat, "Dad suffered a heart attack this morning," he stammered.
"I'm sorry," Neal said sincerely and thought for a moment. "Are you going home?"
Sighing, Peter replied, "I don't know what to do."
"You have to inform Hughes. If you want to fly back home, I'm sure he wouldn't object."
"Yes, but..."
"No buts. Unless you don't want to go home?"
"Of course I want to. But I can't leave that easily."
"What you are trying to say is, that you can't leave me alone," Neal countered. "I'm sure Jones and Diana will be delighted to take care of me."
Although Neal was grinning, Peter knew that his partner was dead serious and muttered, "Oh, Diana will definitely look forward to that." Then he was silent again for a few seconds. "I can't leave. What about Satchmo?"
"No problem. I'll take him with me."
"You would do that?"
"Hey, I've already had taken care of him once. Though basically your plan was about drawing my attention to Ellen's file," Neal said with a shrug. "But yes, I would do it. I like him and he likes me."
"Satchmo likes anyone who feeds him and rubs his belly," Peter interjected thoughtfully.
"Um, we should rather not worry about that. There are more important things to consider right now. You have to catch a flight to...wherever your parents live." He seemed to be thinking. "Or rather, I will take care of the flight and you will inform Hughes."
...
"This is ridiculous!" Peter looked up from the notepad that Neal had given him minutes before and scanned the list with the various flights again. "The next one leaves LaGuardia in less than an hour...that's impossible to accomplish!" He sighed. "There's one leaving in three hours. But look at the lost time while waiting for it. Due to the budget dispute the security staff is reduced and delays are pre-programmed. All in all it takes six hours to reach Ithaca." Again, he scanned the numbers and hid his face in his hands. He felt very tired right now and braced his elbows on the table. Barely audible, he said, "Going by car is taking almost as much time, but still I would favor that."
Neal sat opposite to him and watched him attentively. "But in your actual condition I wouldn't recommend that. Look at you, Peter. You're tired and can hardly concentrate."
"I'm afraid I have no choice. I hate waiting for a flight."
"And what would be the difference with the car?"
"While waiting for the flight, I could be almost down a third of the way. And I wouldn't feel so idle."
"Okay, that's...plausible. Somehow." Neal stood up. "Nevertheless, I think it's a bad idea to let you drive all alone."
"I'm a good driver!" Peter shot back instantly. Although he didn't want to, he hit the plate with his fist. His nerves were strained and he felt the pressure on his chest.
"It depends on the perspective," Neal muttered and then added a little louder, "But even a good driver becomes a bad driver when he's tired or cranky..."
"And what do you suggest? I can't ask a probie to come with me. Especially when it comes to private matters." Since Neal didn't answer right away, Peter suspected that his partner didn’t have another idea to solve the problem and sighed. "Exactly. I have no alternative."
Suddenly Neal grinned. It was his patented Caffrey smile and usually that meant trouble. "You've got something better. You got me."
Peter frowned, trying to understand what Neal was implying. Then, it dawned to him and he raised his eyebrows. "Oh no. No, no," he shook his head and stood up. Putting his hand on his hips, he said, "Certainly not!"
"C'mon Peter!" Neal answered, sounding genuinely offended. "Why not?"
"Because...," Peter opened his mouth to reply, but had to admit that Neal's suggestion sounded not that bad. Still, he couldn't let that happen. "Because you don't have a valid and more important LEGAL driver's license, for example? And Ithaca is unfortunately far out of your radius? And because you aren't up to 100 percent yourself?"
Neal waved a hand and looked amused. "Oh, those are unimportant trifles. If I had to work physical for 6 six hours or you would force me to read files of mortgage frauds, then in fact I would play the "I-am-still-too-ill-to-work" card. But that's not the point." He became serious again. "Peter, it's your family! The longer we discuss, the longer it takes to get back home."
...
"I still can't believe it," Peter muttered while he struggled with his seatbelt. After he had talked to Hughes and got his approval to be exempted from duty, his supervisor had surprised him once more when he also had made sure that Neal was allowed to accompany him. After that, everything had happened pretty fast.
First, he had spoken to Elizabeth and got her approval. (Not that he had needed a confirmation for going back home anyway. But it felt nice nevertheless). Then he and Neal had driven to Brooklyn where he had packed a suitcase in less than 10 minutes. In the meantime Neal had stowed away Satchmo's leash and toys in the back of the car. Slightly out of breath, Peter had taken the seat behind the wheel and drove back to June's house. This time it had been Neal's turn to get his belongings. Peter had used the waiting time to thank June repeatedly for taking care of Satchmo. To his surprise, even Mozzie had offered to walk the dog while they were out of town. With all the other problems in his mind, Peter was too confused to wonder about Mozzie's intentions. Within minutes, Neal had been back, one backpack in his hand. That on the other hand hadn't surprised him, because Neal was a master of light travelling. All the ex-con needed to leave town was stuffed in the small bag. After that they had started a discussion when it had come to the question who would be driving the car. "How could I agree to that?"
"Lean back, close your eyes and relax," Neal said as he maneuvered the Ford through the heavy traffic. Contrary to Peter's habit, Neal didn't take his eyes from the road while he drove.
"I just hope your Gary Rydell doesn't gain the upper hand." This alias of Neal was known for his uncanny ability to wreck expensive cars, so Peter was slightly nervous.
"Don't worry," Neal said and seemed to know to what Peter was referring to. "That was only a rumor. To this day I never experienced a car accident. But you know the saying 'There's a first time-"
Peter groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I knew it!"
Neal enjoyed the moment to the fullest, of course. "Peter," he said, his voice sounding very serious, "I'm a very good driver. Relax." A few moments later, he said, "Tell me about your family."
"What?" Peter looked at him dumbfounded. "Why?"
"Well, because we need a subject for the next few hours. You know my past," he shrugged with his shoulders, "so I thought it would be nice to be forewarned."
"Forewarned?"
"You know, are there any dark family secrets I should know of?"
"Oh," Peter said, "you mean such embarrassing or ridiculous things like...," he trailed off.
Neal's face lit up and he smiled happily in anticipation.
But Peter remained silent because he knew what Neal was up to.
"You're a spoilsport."
"I won't tell you any embarrassing or ridiculous things about my family for sure," Peter shook his head and reached for the newspaper he had picked up earlier from the kitchen table. He started to do the crossword puzzle and muttered, "If I would tell you, then there wouldn't be any dark family secrets at all."
"Fine," Neal answered and his disappointment was clearly audible. "How about some music?" He asked and reached for the radio.
"Don't you dare to switch the stations!" Peter warned him and tried to push away Neal's hand.
But Neal was faster and smacked Peter's hand instead. "Hey! I'm the driver. I decide what station."
Peter immediately pulled back his hand and looked at Neal with mixture of surprise and frustration. "What are you up to?"
"If you aren't willing to entertain me, then I'll do it myself." With a wry grin, he added, "You asked for it!"
Grabbing his forehead with his right hand, Peter sighed. "This can't be true!"
...
Chapter 3
That Neal had been right with his assumption, regarding Peter's exhaustion, became quite apparent after about 30 minutes into the drive. Because when he cast a quick glance towards the passenger seat, Neal could see that Peter had fallen asleep. So he took the opportunity and let his mind wander a bit. How long had it been now since he had travelled such a long distance by car? Apart from the ride from the airport to Manhattan on the day of his escape from the maximum security prison, of course. Eight years? Ten?
He remembered the summer months he had spent at the French Riviera. There he had met Monique and had travelled along the costal roads with her. They had spent a few days in Cassis with its just over 7,000 inhabitants and enjoyed the local scenery of the sea while they drove by. Even today, he enthused about the Fete de la Saint-Pierre et de la Mer, known as the annual fishing festival. He smiled as he thought about how they had celebrated with the citizens dancing and laughing until early sunrise.
Or the time he had lived in the Palazzo Sasso in Ravello. The hotel on the Italian Amalfi Coast was still his all time favorite and he would love to show Sara the wonderful view from the roof terrace suite. Maybe he was drawn to the sea again and again by those beautiful memories?
Unfortunately he couldn't return to these places for another two years, due to his work release program with the FBI. Viewed in this light, this trip was his first "vacation" outside of his radius since his escape to Cap Verde a few months back. Inevitably, his thoughts went to Maya and he couldn't prevent a sad sigh. Was she happy right now? In financial terms, she was well secured at least. Thanks to the generous reward the FBI had paid for his capture. He hadn't contacted her since then, fearing for her safety. So all he could do was hope that she and little Hector were doing fine. One day, he told himself, they would see each other again. After all, with a little help from his friends, he had been able to stop the intrigue of Henry Dobbs, aka Robert Macleish. A small compensation for pain and suffering after being shot by Agent Collins who had tried to stop him from running.
As he drove along Interstate 88N, he actually enjoyed the sight of nature. He had never been a country boy, but after so many years in prison and his own prison within the two-mile radius at New York, the sight was simply overwhelming. Now, in early September, many leaves had already started to change color. The impression of the beauty and vastness of the landscape was breathtaking. In the car in front of them he could spot a family. The two children at the backseat were joking around. Seeing this, Neal's heart grew heavy for he was reminded of his own childhood. Joint family trips had been very rare. His mother had always been distant and although Aunt Ellen had tried to fill that spot, Neal had always suffered not having a real family. At this point, he had begun to take on different roles in order to escape the sad reality. In his imagination he was like his father. The hero, who died in a gun fight. He dreamed to become the high decorated police officer his mother always had told him about. But this dream had been cruelly demolished on his 18th birthday when he had to learn the truth about his father from Ellen. For a long time he had thought that he would be better off without his family and fend for himself. But then he had been caught by Peter for the first time. Back then he had seen in him only one of many enemies.
According to the philosophy of Sun Tzu that you should know your enemy to win the battle, Neal had started to study Special Agent Peter Burke very thoroughly. And he had developed more and more respect for the older man. Peter Burke was that kind of man Neal had wanted as a father. Whether it was a coincidence that Peter had stepped into his life, or fate, Neal didn't know. And to be honest, he didn't care. More importantly he savored the friendship that had developed between them during the recent years. Even if they have had some tricky situations, they always ended up fighting together and overcoming all obstacles.
Again, he glanced towards his right side, where Peter was still asleep. After a few seconds he realized how easy it would be to escape right now. After all, his watchdog was put out of action at the moment. Within seconds, he made a decision.
...
When Peter woke up, he noticed his stiff neck at first and blinked a few times while he tried to gather information about his whereabouts. It took him several seconds to realize where he was.
In his car.
At the passenger seat.
In the middle of nowhere.
Alone.
He moved his neck carefully and noticed that the car was in a parking lot. He remembered the reason why he was in his car. He had been traveling with Neal to Ithaca. But Neal was gone. Peter sighed. He must have fallen asleep. And as to be expected, Neal's old habit seemed to have kicked in - he had run away.
Instinctively his hand went to his shoulder holster. The gun was still there. Then he searched for his FBI badge and was relieved to see that it was also still in place. As was his wallet. Then he slowly unbuckled the seat belt and opened the door. All door locks unlocked simultaneously. Surprised, he paused for a moment - why was the car locked at all? Because most of his back muscles hurt, he had to be careful when he got out of the car. He turned around and recognized a small parking lot in front of a drug store beside a busy road. But still he couldn't figure out where he was. After he had closed the door, he took some eager steps to become more alert. At the same time he fumbled for his cell phone because he wanted to trace the signal from Neal's anklet. Astonished, he found out that almost four hours had passed and that he had missed three calls. His pulse rate increased as he recognized the caller ID's. Two calls from his brother and one from El. Immediately he switched plans and instead chose to call Robert back. While he waited, he went around in a small circuit and studied the area to locate any distinctive reference points. He still didn't know where he was. And where the hell was Neal?!
He took a deep breath as he heard Robert's voice. "Hey, it's me. You've tried to reach me?"
A few minutes later, he finished the call, lowered his hand and stood still for a few moments, lost in thoughts. Then he raised his hand again and started the app for Neal's anklet. He waited nervously after he logged in and loosened his tie. Concentrated he stared at the small display and startled as he heard a voice behind him. Immediately he turned around and saw Neal approaching him.
"Oh, you're awake." In his hands, Neal held a paper cup and a sandwich still wrapped in foil.
Relieved, Peter lowered the phone again. He became aware of his bad conscience because he had prejudged Neal too quickly. Again. "Where are we?"
"Binghamton," Neal answered and joined Peter. He put the paper cup on the roof of the car. "Did you sleep well? I wasn't sure if I should have woken you up," he explained and unwrapped the sandwich.
"Binghamton," Peter repeated and ran a hand over his face. "That means we are close at home. Just about 50 miles left." When he looked at Neal, he realized that his friend was still waiting for an answer. "I'm not fully awake yet. Did I really sleep all the time?"
"Like a baby," Neal grinned. "Would you like something to eat?" He ostentatiously took a bite of the sandwich.
"A coffee would be great. And yes, you should have woken me up. I could have switched places with you."
Neal waved with his free hand and swallowed his mouthful. "No problem. We need to gas up and I took the opportunity to make a trip to the restroom. And to the food bar." Even if it wasn't necessary, he held up the snack once more.
The prospect of being able to stretch his legs was very tempting for Peter. "I'm going to get some coffee. How's your stomach?"
"Better," Neal nodded and took a sip from the cup which was obviously filled with tea, judging from the tea label.
"I'll be right back," Peter said and went to the drug store. A few minutes later he came back and saw Neal sitting near the car on a park bench. For a moment he stopped dead in his tracks and watched him. Neal seemed unaware of his presence and instead fascinated by the traffic. Peter was still embarrassed about himself because of his misjudging earlier. You should know better, he reprimanded himself just thinking about thinking that. The past had shown that Neal was a loyal friend although the trust between them had been standing on shaky ground from time to time. Like he had said once, there still was faith. And even if he had run, I would have found him sooner or later. A small grin appeared on Peter's face. After he had sat down beside him he said, "You like that, mhm?" When he saw Neal's questioning look, he added, "To drive."
"It's been a while since I drove myself and I have to admit that it's fun to be able to go outside my radius," Neal answered candidly, but then changed the subject. "Any news from home?"
Peter put his cream cheese bagel and coffee down next to him. "I just called Robert. No change so far. At least his condition hasn't worsened."
Neal nodded. "That's good to hear." He remained silent for a moment before he asked softly, "And how is your mother?"
With raised eyebrows Peter looked at Neal and took a deep breath. He could see that Neal was a bit shaken too and thought about it for a moment. "She's still rattled, even though Robert says that she now seems more composed than this morning. The doctor gave a mild sedative, because she had been very upset."
"Understandable," Neal said and looked down. It was obvious that something was bothering him.
At first Peter didn't know how to classify Neal's behavior. And that was irritating him a lot, because he could read Neal like an open book most of the time. But this time he failed and that was a very rare occasion. Stalling for more time, he took a sip of coffee and grimaced.
"It's probably not June's special roast, huh?" Neal looked at him and smiled slightly.
"No, not at all." He sat down the cup and leaned back. "What is it, Neal?"
Almost frightened, Neal glanced at him for some seconds before he tried to appease with a corresponding gesture. "Oh, nothing. Nothing that's important anyway."
"Why don't you let me decide whether it's important or not?"
Neal hesitated at first, but then shrugged. "I've had some time to think while I drove and I...just asked myself how I would have reacted if it had been my mother. But somehow-," he shook his head. "I just don't know. I can't explain it. I feel nothing for her. I was 18 when I saw her the last time and James...," he stopped again and drew in a sharp breath. "Let's not talk about it."
Peter could feel his stomach tighten. Of course, he had noticed that Neal called his father by the first name, not Dad. He felt sorry. Quite contrary to Neal, he had grown up in an average family and hadn't been forced at the age of three to leave the city to live in a strange neighborhood with a fake name. Unlike Neal, he hadn't been separated from his parents. According to his friend, his mother hadn't been able to look after the young child, let alone to take care of herself. It filled Peter with sadness when he thought of what Neal had to endure and how full of deprivation his childhood must have been. The meeting with James only had torn up old wounds. Peter initially had hoped that the reunion of father and son would turn out positive, but he had been wrong. Everything had worsened and became more difficult. In the end, Neal had been emotionally hurt once more. "Okay," he nodded. "Whenever you'll feel like it, I'm here to listen," he offered. "I'm here for you."
"Yeah, I know that," Neal said softly and added, "Thank you."
During the next few minutes, no one spoke and both were hanging by their own thoughts while they ate. Finally, Peter wiped his mouth with his napkin and wiped his fingers. "Okay. Let's go. I will drive the remaining distance. You can rest." Secretly, he had expected that Neal would object, but he just nodded wordlessly. At the point Peter knew that his friend was exhausted, too.
"Oh, hey," Neal said when Peter drove. "Do you happen to know a nice hotel in Ithaca?"
Peter blinked and looked at Neal. "You can stay with me. We have a guest room."
"No," Neal replied, shaking his head. "I don't want to disturb. This is a family matter. It's not my place to stay."
"You won’t disturb anyone."
"Still, I would prefer the hotel", he insisted and then grinned. "Don't worry. I'm not going to run."
Again, guilt overcame Peter and he replied, "That's not the point." He noted that his response had been too quick. "Okay, I admit, I would like to have you close. You are like a magnet to trouble, I'm afraid."
"Who? Me?" Neal put a hand over his heart in a mock gesture. "You can be completely assured. I don't think Ithaca has that many temptations to offer. Besides, I'm a reformed man. A role model citizen so to speak."
"Alright," Peter deadpanned while Neal stayed silent. "And just for your information - Ithaca has a lot to offer."
"Yeah? Tell me."
"Did you know that there are many more restaurants per capita than New York has?"
"No, but I don't see how that information will help me. I was thinking more of art galleries or museums." Without waiting for an answer, Neal pulled out his cell phone and began typing. After a few moments his face lit up and he turned towards Peter, a big grin on his face. "Oh, I think I've found my paradise!"
"Cape Verde is on the other side of the pond and we certainly won't go there."
Indignantly Neal frowned. "Nonsense, Peter." Then he held up his cell phone. "Why didn't you tell me about the more than 100 wineries? And not to mention the...Cayuga Lake Wine Trail with 16 of the best wineries?! Sixteen, Peter!"
"Ah, yeah, right," Peter said listless and was not very enthusiastic. "Remind me to get enough pickle juice." Neal's last hangover was still one to remember after Neal had enjoyed a little too much whiskey while trying to fake it.
"Oooh look at that," Neal exulted like he hadn't listened to Peter and continued surfing at the internet. "There's a map with the wineries in pdf format. Great, now all I need to find is a hotel." He grew silent for a moment. "Okay, the William Henry Miller Inn looks promising." Again, silence before he started to read aloud. "This hotel is in close proximity to the world famous Moosewood Restaurant and fifty other restaurants. The Kitchen Theatre, Cornell University and fascinating shops can be found "around the corner" such as the breathtaking Cascadilla Gorge waterfalls." He tapped a few times on the touch screen and then grinned. "It's booked."
Peter shook his head in amusement. "Three cheers for modern technology."
To be continued...
See Chapter 1 for more information
Chapter 2
Startled in his thoughts by the knock on his door, Peter looked up and realized that he had a visitor standing behind the large glass windows. He waved him in and waited until he had taken a seat. "Neal. What's up?"
Neal smiled. "It's lunch break. Come on. I'll pay."
Peter looked at his watch. "Oh, seems I lost track of time." Then he thought about the offer for a moment. "Thanks for the invitation. But I'm already supplied." With one hand he pointed to sandwich wrapped in foil. In order to not have to interrupt his work, he earlier had sent out a probie to get him something to eat from the cafeteria. The more distraction he got with work, the less he had to think of El.
"Elizabeth will kill me if she finds out what you're eating here. You need something decent."
"I could say the same about you," Peter retorted. He was still worried about Neal's thin figure.
"That's why I want to go out to eat. Come on now. My boss demands that I'm back on time."
…
While they waited for their food to be served, Peter reached inside his jacket pocket and frowned. Then he realized that he had forgotten his cell phone at the office. "Oh great," he mumbled, blaming himself for his own forgetfulness.
"What?" Neal asked, sipping his soda.
"I wanted to text El, but I forgot my cell on my desk," Peter said.
Without hesitation, Neal held out his own cell. "Here. Take mine."
"No, no problem," Peter waved his hand. Under no circumstances did he want to look like a lovesick teenager, who couldn't stay away half a day from his flame. "I'll text her when we're back."
The waiter brought them their orders. A Panini sandwich for Peter and a fruit salad for Neal.
"How long will Elizabeth be out of town?" Neal wanted to know.
"Until Friday," Peter answered, sounding a bit frustrated, because he didn't like the thought at all.
"Oh my," Neal muttered and quickly shoved a forkful of fruit salad in his mouth.
Peter had just heard what Neal had said. Nevertheless, he played the ignorant. "What did you just say?"
"Nothing."
"I heard you. It sounded suspiciously like "Oh my" to me."
"I'm just saying!" Neal shrugged. "Elizabeth is just gone for three days. If your mood stays the same for the rest of the week, then…"
At first, Peter wanted to reply something, but then he realized that Neal had - once again - nailed it. Luckily he still had Satchmo. So at least someone was waiting for him to come home at the evening. "And what do you suggest?"
"Oh, there are so many ways to spend the evenings," Neal answered immediately. "I've heard about some very interesting art exhibitions-"
"No, Neal. We will NOT going to art museums."
"But-"
"I've said no."
"Peter!"
Oh, how he had missed those little battles of words last week! Especially when Neal started to pout like a toddler. So he decided to play along. "We could watch some games on ESPN."
"If that's supposed to be a joke, it isn't funny at all."
Yeah, he had definitely missed it. Peter grinned mischievously. "Eat your salad."
…
Back at the office, Neal sat down at his desk while Peter went to his office straight away, because he wanted to send a text message to Elizabeth as soon as possible. But unfortunately he didn't get very far. After a few steps he was approached by Jones.
"Boss?"
"Yes?"
The agent handed him a file. "I need a few more signatures from you."
Peter looked at his watch. "Can't that wait? I have something else on my list first."
"No problem," Jones nodded.
Just as Peter wanted to go, Neal came up to him. "Neal, I need some time-"
Neal seemed to be worried. "Peter, Elizabeth is on the phone," he said while he held out his cell phone to Peter. "She said she couldn't reach you."
"And that's why she called you," Peter concluded and took the cell. "Hon? I'm sorry, I forgot my cell at the office and-" He broke off, because Elizabeth interrupted him.
"Peter, it's about your father!" Her voice sounded excited.
Peter raised one eyebrow and looked at Neal, who shrugged helplessly and obviously had no idea what was going on. "Come again, El. I don't understand," he stammered into the cell and went to his office so he could talk in private.
"Your mother tried to reach you for at least 1 hour."
"What happened?" Peter wanted to know. His gut feeling told him that something was wrong. He walked around his desk and immediately saw his cell phone laying on top of some files. A quick glance at the display told him that he had missed 10 calls, 8 from his mother and 2 from Elizabeth. Suddenly he had a very bad feeling, because normally his mother wouldn't call him during working hours. And most certainly not for so many times.
"Your father suffered a heart attack. You have to call your mother immediately. She's devastated."
"Yes, but...," Peter didn't know what to say and let himself sink slowly into his chair.
"Peter! You have to call Lucy!"
"What? Oh, yeah, yeah, I'll-I'll call her right away." A thousand things raced around his head at the same time and made it hard for him to think straight. "I-"
"I'm going to end the call, alright? If you know more, please call me back. I love you, Hon."
For how long he had been staring at the cell in his hand, he couldn't tell, but then he was startled by a knock on his door.
"Peter? Everything okay with you?" Neal peeked through the door, but chose to stand outside.
"Huh? Yes. No. I don't know." He still thought he had misunderstood Elizabeth.
Without waiting for permission, Neal stepped in and frowned. "Now you're scaring me. You look pale."
"My father," he simply said, looking directly at Neal. "He's had a heart attack."
"Is he okay? Can I do something for you?" Neal offered his help instantly.
"I have to call my mother first."
Nodding and without objections, Neal turned around and left the office. Outside, he met Diana and spoke to her briefly. She looked inside; her facial features clearly showed her empathy towards Peter.
With trembling fingers Peter took the handset from his telephone and started to dial the number from his parents. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes while he waited. With each free line signal that went unanswered, his pulse quickened. After what seemed to be an eternity, the call was accepted, but it wasn't his mother on the other end of the line.
"Rob-Robert? It's me. What's going on?" While he listened to his younger brother, a cold shiver ran down Peter's spine. "And what did the doctors say?" Squinting his eyes, Peter tried to memorize all the given information, but still wasn't satisfied. "Then you have to ask them again...where's Mom now? Okay, yeah...I understand...I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Bye." The color had drained from his face while he sat motionless for a few moments trying to collect himself. He ran a hand over his face and struggled to think clearly.
"Any news?"
Peter looked up and saw Neal standing in front of his desk. He hadn't realized that Neal had been back. "Not much so far. He," Peter cleared his throat, "Dad suffered a heart attack this morning," he stammered.
"I'm sorry," Neal said sincerely and thought for a moment. "Are you going home?"
Sighing, Peter replied, "I don't know what to do."
"You have to inform Hughes. If you want to fly back home, I'm sure he wouldn't object."
"Yes, but..."
"No buts. Unless you don't want to go home?"
"Of course I want to. But I can't leave that easily."
"What you are trying to say is, that you can't leave me alone," Neal countered. "I'm sure Jones and Diana will be delighted to take care of me."
Although Neal was grinning, Peter knew that his partner was dead serious and muttered, "Oh, Diana will definitely look forward to that." Then he was silent again for a few seconds. "I can't leave. What about Satchmo?"
"No problem. I'll take him with me."
"You would do that?"
"Hey, I've already had taken care of him once. Though basically your plan was about drawing my attention to Ellen's file," Neal said with a shrug. "But yes, I would do it. I like him and he likes me."
"Satchmo likes anyone who feeds him and rubs his belly," Peter interjected thoughtfully.
"Um, we should rather not worry about that. There are more important things to consider right now. You have to catch a flight to...wherever your parents live." He seemed to be thinking. "Or rather, I will take care of the flight and you will inform Hughes."
...
"This is ridiculous!" Peter looked up from the notepad that Neal had given him minutes before and scanned the list with the various flights again. "The next one leaves LaGuardia in less than an hour...that's impossible to accomplish!" He sighed. "There's one leaving in three hours. But look at the lost time while waiting for it. Due to the budget dispute the security staff is reduced and delays are pre-programmed. All in all it takes six hours to reach Ithaca." Again, he scanned the numbers and hid his face in his hands. He felt very tired right now and braced his elbows on the table. Barely audible, he said, "Going by car is taking almost as much time, but still I would favor that."
Neal sat opposite to him and watched him attentively. "But in your actual condition I wouldn't recommend that. Look at you, Peter. You're tired and can hardly concentrate."
"I'm afraid I have no choice. I hate waiting for a flight."
"And what would be the difference with the car?"
"While waiting for the flight, I could be almost down a third of the way. And I wouldn't feel so idle."
"Okay, that's...plausible. Somehow." Neal stood up. "Nevertheless, I think it's a bad idea to let you drive all alone."
"I'm a good driver!" Peter shot back instantly. Although he didn't want to, he hit the plate with his fist. His nerves were strained and he felt the pressure on his chest.
"It depends on the perspective," Neal muttered and then added a little louder, "But even a good driver becomes a bad driver when he's tired or cranky..."
"And what do you suggest? I can't ask a probie to come with me. Especially when it comes to private matters." Since Neal didn't answer right away, Peter suspected that his partner didn’t have another idea to solve the problem and sighed. "Exactly. I have no alternative."
Suddenly Neal grinned. It was his patented Caffrey smile and usually that meant trouble. "You've got something better. You got me."
Peter frowned, trying to understand what Neal was implying. Then, it dawned to him and he raised his eyebrows. "Oh no. No, no," he shook his head and stood up. Putting his hand on his hips, he said, "Certainly not!"
"C'mon Peter!" Neal answered, sounding genuinely offended. "Why not?"
"Because...," Peter opened his mouth to reply, but had to admit that Neal's suggestion sounded not that bad. Still, he couldn't let that happen. "Because you don't have a valid and more important LEGAL driver's license, for example? And Ithaca is unfortunately far out of your radius? And because you aren't up to 100 percent yourself?"
Neal waved a hand and looked amused. "Oh, those are unimportant trifles. If I had to work physical for 6 six hours or you would force me to read files of mortgage frauds, then in fact I would play the "I-am-still-too-ill-to-work" card. But that's not the point." He became serious again. "Peter, it's your family! The longer we discuss, the longer it takes to get back home."
...
"I still can't believe it," Peter muttered while he struggled with his seatbelt. After he had talked to Hughes and got his approval to be exempted from duty, his supervisor had surprised him once more when he also had made sure that Neal was allowed to accompany him. After that, everything had happened pretty fast.
First, he had spoken to Elizabeth and got her approval. (Not that he had needed a confirmation for going back home anyway. But it felt nice nevertheless). Then he and Neal had driven to Brooklyn where he had packed a suitcase in less than 10 minutes. In the meantime Neal had stowed away Satchmo's leash and toys in the back of the car. Slightly out of breath, Peter had taken the seat behind the wheel and drove back to June's house. This time it had been Neal's turn to get his belongings. Peter had used the waiting time to thank June repeatedly for taking care of Satchmo. To his surprise, even Mozzie had offered to walk the dog while they were out of town. With all the other problems in his mind, Peter was too confused to wonder about Mozzie's intentions. Within minutes, Neal had been back, one backpack in his hand. That on the other hand hadn't surprised him, because Neal was a master of light travelling. All the ex-con needed to leave town was stuffed in the small bag. After that they had started a discussion when it had come to the question who would be driving the car. "How could I agree to that?"
"Lean back, close your eyes and relax," Neal said as he maneuvered the Ford through the heavy traffic. Contrary to Peter's habit, Neal didn't take his eyes from the road while he drove.
"I just hope your Gary Rydell doesn't gain the upper hand." This alias of Neal was known for his uncanny ability to wreck expensive cars, so Peter was slightly nervous.
"Don't worry," Neal said and seemed to know to what Peter was referring to. "That was only a rumor. To this day I never experienced a car accident. But you know the saying 'There's a first time-"
Peter groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I knew it!"
Neal enjoyed the moment to the fullest, of course. "Peter," he said, his voice sounding very serious, "I'm a very good driver. Relax." A few moments later, he said, "Tell me about your family."
"What?" Peter looked at him dumbfounded. "Why?"
"Well, because we need a subject for the next few hours. You know my past," he shrugged with his shoulders, "so I thought it would be nice to be forewarned."
"Forewarned?"
"You know, are there any dark family secrets I should know of?"
"Oh," Peter said, "you mean such embarrassing or ridiculous things like...," he trailed off.
Neal's face lit up and he smiled happily in anticipation.
But Peter remained silent because he knew what Neal was up to.
"You're a spoilsport."
"I won't tell you any embarrassing or ridiculous things about my family for sure," Peter shook his head and reached for the newspaper he had picked up earlier from the kitchen table. He started to do the crossword puzzle and muttered, "If I would tell you, then there wouldn't be any dark family secrets at all."
"Fine," Neal answered and his disappointment was clearly audible. "How about some music?" He asked and reached for the radio.
"Don't you dare to switch the stations!" Peter warned him and tried to push away Neal's hand.
But Neal was faster and smacked Peter's hand instead. "Hey! I'm the driver. I decide what station."
Peter immediately pulled back his hand and looked at Neal with mixture of surprise and frustration. "What are you up to?"
"If you aren't willing to entertain me, then I'll do it myself." With a wry grin, he added, "You asked for it!"
Grabbing his forehead with his right hand, Peter sighed. "This can't be true!"
...
Chapter 3
That Neal had been right with his assumption, regarding Peter's exhaustion, became quite apparent after about 30 minutes into the drive. Because when he cast a quick glance towards the passenger seat, Neal could see that Peter had fallen asleep. So he took the opportunity and let his mind wander a bit. How long had it been now since he had travelled such a long distance by car? Apart from the ride from the airport to Manhattan on the day of his escape from the maximum security prison, of course. Eight years? Ten?
He remembered the summer months he had spent at the French Riviera. There he had met Monique and had travelled along the costal roads with her. They had spent a few days in Cassis with its just over 7,000 inhabitants and enjoyed the local scenery of the sea while they drove by. Even today, he enthused about the Fete de la Saint-Pierre et de la Mer, known as the annual fishing festival. He smiled as he thought about how they had celebrated with the citizens dancing and laughing until early sunrise.
Or the time he had lived in the Palazzo Sasso in Ravello. The hotel on the Italian Amalfi Coast was still his all time favorite and he would love to show Sara the wonderful view from the roof terrace suite. Maybe he was drawn to the sea again and again by those beautiful memories?
Unfortunately he couldn't return to these places for another two years, due to his work release program with the FBI. Viewed in this light, this trip was his first "vacation" outside of his radius since his escape to Cap Verde a few months back. Inevitably, his thoughts went to Maya and he couldn't prevent a sad sigh. Was she happy right now? In financial terms, she was well secured at least. Thanks to the generous reward the FBI had paid for his capture. He hadn't contacted her since then, fearing for her safety. So all he could do was hope that she and little Hector were doing fine. One day, he told himself, they would see each other again. After all, with a little help from his friends, he had been able to stop the intrigue of Henry Dobbs, aka Robert Macleish. A small compensation for pain and suffering after being shot by Agent Collins who had tried to stop him from running.
As he drove along Interstate 88N, he actually enjoyed the sight of nature. He had never been a country boy, but after so many years in prison and his own prison within the two-mile radius at New York, the sight was simply overwhelming. Now, in early September, many leaves had already started to change color. The impression of the beauty and vastness of the landscape was breathtaking. In the car in front of them he could spot a family. The two children at the backseat were joking around. Seeing this, Neal's heart grew heavy for he was reminded of his own childhood. Joint family trips had been very rare. His mother had always been distant and although Aunt Ellen had tried to fill that spot, Neal had always suffered not having a real family. At this point, he had begun to take on different roles in order to escape the sad reality. In his imagination he was like his father. The hero, who died in a gun fight. He dreamed to become the high decorated police officer his mother always had told him about. But this dream had been cruelly demolished on his 18th birthday when he had to learn the truth about his father from Ellen. For a long time he had thought that he would be better off without his family and fend for himself. But then he had been caught by Peter for the first time. Back then he had seen in him only one of many enemies.
According to the philosophy of Sun Tzu that you should know your enemy to win the battle, Neal had started to study Special Agent Peter Burke very thoroughly. And he had developed more and more respect for the older man. Peter Burke was that kind of man Neal had wanted as a father. Whether it was a coincidence that Peter had stepped into his life, or fate, Neal didn't know. And to be honest, he didn't care. More importantly he savored the friendship that had developed between them during the recent years. Even if they have had some tricky situations, they always ended up fighting together and overcoming all obstacles.
Again, he glanced towards his right side, where Peter was still asleep. After a few seconds he realized how easy it would be to escape right now. After all, his watchdog was put out of action at the moment. Within seconds, he made a decision.
...
When Peter woke up, he noticed his stiff neck at first and blinked a few times while he tried to gather information about his whereabouts. It took him several seconds to realize where he was.
In his car.
At the passenger seat.
In the middle of nowhere.
Alone.
He moved his neck carefully and noticed that the car was in a parking lot. He remembered the reason why he was in his car. He had been traveling with Neal to Ithaca. But Neal was gone. Peter sighed. He must have fallen asleep. And as to be expected, Neal's old habit seemed to have kicked in - he had run away.
Instinctively his hand went to his shoulder holster. The gun was still there. Then he searched for his FBI badge and was relieved to see that it was also still in place. As was his wallet. Then he slowly unbuckled the seat belt and opened the door. All door locks unlocked simultaneously. Surprised, he paused for a moment - why was the car locked at all? Because most of his back muscles hurt, he had to be careful when he got out of the car. He turned around and recognized a small parking lot in front of a drug store beside a busy road. But still he couldn't figure out where he was. After he had closed the door, he took some eager steps to become more alert. At the same time he fumbled for his cell phone because he wanted to trace the signal from Neal's anklet. Astonished, he found out that almost four hours had passed and that he had missed three calls. His pulse rate increased as he recognized the caller ID's. Two calls from his brother and one from El. Immediately he switched plans and instead chose to call Robert back. While he waited, he went around in a small circuit and studied the area to locate any distinctive reference points. He still didn't know where he was. And where the hell was Neal?!
He took a deep breath as he heard Robert's voice. "Hey, it's me. You've tried to reach me?"
A few minutes later, he finished the call, lowered his hand and stood still for a few moments, lost in thoughts. Then he raised his hand again and started the app for Neal's anklet. He waited nervously after he logged in and loosened his tie. Concentrated he stared at the small display and startled as he heard a voice behind him. Immediately he turned around and saw Neal approaching him.
"Oh, you're awake." In his hands, Neal held a paper cup and a sandwich still wrapped in foil.
Relieved, Peter lowered the phone again. He became aware of his bad conscience because he had prejudged Neal too quickly. Again. "Where are we?"
"Binghamton," Neal answered and joined Peter. He put the paper cup on the roof of the car. "Did you sleep well? I wasn't sure if I should have woken you up," he explained and unwrapped the sandwich.
"Binghamton," Peter repeated and ran a hand over his face. "That means we are close at home. Just about 50 miles left." When he looked at Neal, he realized that his friend was still waiting for an answer. "I'm not fully awake yet. Did I really sleep all the time?"
"Like a baby," Neal grinned. "Would you like something to eat?" He ostentatiously took a bite of the sandwich.
"A coffee would be great. And yes, you should have woken me up. I could have switched places with you."
Neal waved with his free hand and swallowed his mouthful. "No problem. We need to gas up and I took the opportunity to make a trip to the restroom. And to the food bar." Even if it wasn't necessary, he held up the snack once more.
The prospect of being able to stretch his legs was very tempting for Peter. "I'm going to get some coffee. How's your stomach?"
"Better," Neal nodded and took a sip from the cup which was obviously filled with tea, judging from the tea label.
"I'll be right back," Peter said and went to the drug store. A few minutes later he came back and saw Neal sitting near the car on a park bench. For a moment he stopped dead in his tracks and watched him. Neal seemed unaware of his presence and instead fascinated by the traffic. Peter was still embarrassed about himself because of his misjudging earlier. You should know better, he reprimanded himself just thinking about thinking that. The past had shown that Neal was a loyal friend although the trust between them had been standing on shaky ground from time to time. Like he had said once, there still was faith. And even if he had run, I would have found him sooner or later. A small grin appeared on Peter's face. After he had sat down beside him he said, "You like that, mhm?" When he saw Neal's questioning look, he added, "To drive."
"It's been a while since I drove myself and I have to admit that it's fun to be able to go outside my radius," Neal answered candidly, but then changed the subject. "Any news from home?"
Peter put his cream cheese bagel and coffee down next to him. "I just called Robert. No change so far. At least his condition hasn't worsened."
Neal nodded. "That's good to hear." He remained silent for a moment before he asked softly, "And how is your mother?"
With raised eyebrows Peter looked at Neal and took a deep breath. He could see that Neal was a bit shaken too and thought about it for a moment. "She's still rattled, even though Robert says that she now seems more composed than this morning. The doctor gave a mild sedative, because she had been very upset."
"Understandable," Neal said and looked down. It was obvious that something was bothering him.
At first Peter didn't know how to classify Neal's behavior. And that was irritating him a lot, because he could read Neal like an open book most of the time. But this time he failed and that was a very rare occasion. Stalling for more time, he took a sip of coffee and grimaced.
"It's probably not June's special roast, huh?" Neal looked at him and smiled slightly.
"No, not at all." He sat down the cup and leaned back. "What is it, Neal?"
Almost frightened, Neal glanced at him for some seconds before he tried to appease with a corresponding gesture. "Oh, nothing. Nothing that's important anyway."
"Why don't you let me decide whether it's important or not?"
Neal hesitated at first, but then shrugged. "I've had some time to think while I drove and I...just asked myself how I would have reacted if it had been my mother. But somehow-," he shook his head. "I just don't know. I can't explain it. I feel nothing for her. I was 18 when I saw her the last time and James...," he stopped again and drew in a sharp breath. "Let's not talk about it."
Peter could feel his stomach tighten. Of course, he had noticed that Neal called his father by the first name, not Dad. He felt sorry. Quite contrary to Neal, he had grown up in an average family and hadn't been forced at the age of three to leave the city to live in a strange neighborhood with a fake name. Unlike Neal, he hadn't been separated from his parents. According to his friend, his mother hadn't been able to look after the young child, let alone to take care of herself. It filled Peter with sadness when he thought of what Neal had to endure and how full of deprivation his childhood must have been. The meeting with James only had torn up old wounds. Peter initially had hoped that the reunion of father and son would turn out positive, but he had been wrong. Everything had worsened and became more difficult. In the end, Neal had been emotionally hurt once more. "Okay," he nodded. "Whenever you'll feel like it, I'm here to listen," he offered. "I'm here for you."
"Yeah, I know that," Neal said softly and added, "Thank you."
During the next few minutes, no one spoke and both were hanging by their own thoughts while they ate. Finally, Peter wiped his mouth with his napkin and wiped his fingers. "Okay. Let's go. I will drive the remaining distance. You can rest." Secretly, he had expected that Neal would object, but he just nodded wordlessly. At the point Peter knew that his friend was exhausted, too.
"Oh, hey," Neal said when Peter drove. "Do you happen to know a nice hotel in Ithaca?"
Peter blinked and looked at Neal. "You can stay with me. We have a guest room."
"No," Neal replied, shaking his head. "I don't want to disturb. This is a family matter. It's not my place to stay."
"You won’t disturb anyone."
"Still, I would prefer the hotel", he insisted and then grinned. "Don't worry. I'm not going to run."
Again, guilt overcame Peter and he replied, "That's not the point." He noted that his response had been too quick. "Okay, I admit, I would like to have you close. You are like a magnet to trouble, I'm afraid."
"Who? Me?" Neal put a hand over his heart in a mock gesture. "You can be completely assured. I don't think Ithaca has that many temptations to offer. Besides, I'm a reformed man. A role model citizen so to speak."
"Alright," Peter deadpanned while Neal stayed silent. "And just for your information - Ithaca has a lot to offer."
"Yeah? Tell me."
"Did you know that there are many more restaurants per capita than New York has?"
"No, but I don't see how that information will help me. I was thinking more of art galleries or museums." Without waiting for an answer, Neal pulled out his cell phone and began typing. After a few moments his face lit up and he turned towards Peter, a big grin on his face. "Oh, I think I've found my paradise!"
"Cape Verde is on the other side of the pond and we certainly won't go there."
Indignantly Neal frowned. "Nonsense, Peter." Then he held up his cell phone. "Why didn't you tell me about the more than 100 wineries? And not to mention the...Cayuga Lake Wine Trail with 16 of the best wineries?! Sixteen, Peter!"
"Ah, yeah, right," Peter said listless and was not very enthusiastic. "Remind me to get enough pickle juice." Neal's last hangover was still one to remember after Neal had enjoyed a little too much whiskey while trying to fake it.
"Oooh look at that," Neal exulted like he hadn't listened to Peter and continued surfing at the internet. "There's a map with the wineries in pdf format. Great, now all I need to find is a hotel." He grew silent for a moment. "Okay, the William Henry Miller Inn looks promising." Again, silence before he started to read aloud. "This hotel is in close proximity to the world famous Moosewood Restaurant and fifty other restaurants. The Kitchen Theatre, Cornell University and fascinating shops can be found "around the corner" such as the breathtaking Cascadilla Gorge waterfalls." He tapped a few times on the touch screen and then grinned. "It's booked."
Peter shook his head in amusement. "Three cheers for modern technology."
To be continued...