White Collar Fic "When it rains, it pours", Parts 6 & 7
When it rains, it pours
See Chapter 1 for more information
Chapter 6
Cayuga Medical Center
10 am
The ride to the hospital was held mostly in silence, while Robert steered the car through the traffic.
At the hospital Lucy led the way since she had been there yesterday. She remembered everything clearly because she had been wandering around the other day while she had waited for the test results.
Peter and Robert followed her with some distance. They entered the ICU and had to call for a nurse first who opened the connection door to the station. Then they were told to disinfect their hands. The nurse told them that the doctor would be here soon.
William was connected to several devices and laid on the bed with half closed eyes, but he didn't notice his visitors. The machines worked and peeped incessantly. Normally one couldn't tell that William was 72 years old, but right now he seemed to be aged by 10 years. His white hair was uncombed.
Lucy stood beside him and gently stroked his beard as she spoke softly to him. "We are all here now, dear." She gestured at the two to step closer.
Peter looked in Robert's direction and then walked to the other side of the bed and took the left hand of his father. "Hey Dad," he said and smiled as William actually responded to his voice and turned his head towards Peter.
William blinked a few times and seemed to consider. "Petey...," he whispered and weakly squeezed Peter's hand.
"Surprised to see me, huh?" Peter grinned and touched his father's head.
"Yes," William murmured. Turning his head back towards Lucy and Robert, he asked, "What...happened?"
"You're in the hospital, but everything will be fine." Lucy spoke softly to him and still held his right hand in hers. "Robert is here, too."
Exhausted, William nodded and closed his eyes.
"He's tired because of the drugs," Lucy explained, echoing the words of Dr. Teabing with whom she had talked yesterday.
As if on cue, the man entered the room and greeted everyone. "Good morning, my name is Dr. Teabing." After that he directly spoke to Lucy. "Mrs. Burke, I can assure you that he has already made progress. There were no incidents during the night, so I'm really pleased." After a brief pause, he continued, "Today we will start to mobilize him little by little, get him moving again."
Peter nodded. "Good. I suppose that the lab results show no alarmingly signs? What about his ECG? And why is his chest bandaged?" Without further ado, as always, Peter was straight forward.
The doctor looked puzzled for a moment. "Um, yes, although some cardio-vascular levels are still at a upper limit, the rest shows significant positive changes. The long-term ECG shows no other significant arrhythmias," he said, looking at the medical file. "The fall down the ladder caused two bruised ribs. All in all he had been very lucky. Thanks to the quick response of your neighbor, the effects of the heart attack are minor."
"But he was so confused yesterday," Lucy pointed out. "He always said that someone wanted to murder him."
With a raised eyebrow, Peter looked at her. "You didn't tell me that."
"I think it's safe to say that that is a side-effect from the morphine. It's not unusual to cause hallucinations," Dr. Teabing explained and looked at his watch. "If you have any more questions, you can page me. Have a nice day."
The three stayed with William for a time, who woke up several times after the visit from Dr. Teabing. Just as they wanted to leave and Peter started to say goodbye to him, William suddenly took his hand and didn't let go. He seemed to be attentively as he got up a bit and slightly moved towards Peter. Surprised by this gesture, Peter waited for another reaction.
"Petey! Petey!" William's voice was hoarse and his eyes were big as he looked at his son. "Murder!"
Frowning, Peter leaned down to speak with his father. "Dad, it's alright. You're still a little bit confused. Nobody here wants to hurt you."
"No, no." William shook his head franticly. "A murder...I've seen...a murder!" Sighing, he let himself sink back. "On the neighboring property..."
Peter was still skeptical. "You're watching too much TV," he smirked slightly and looked at his mother and brother and shrugged with his shoulders.
Still, William didn't back down. "I've seen it!" Breathing hard, he swallowed. "The Gordons."
"The Gordons moved out last October," Robert objected and seemed also confused.
Peter noticed the strain it took for William to make his point, as the machines peeped alarmingly. "Dad, take it easy. Relax. I...," he thought for a moment, "...I'll take a look, okay? After we get home. Alright?"
"Okay," William nodded and sighed. "Promise it, son."
Actually, Peter had no intention to investigate, but at the moment it seemed appropriate to tell William a white lie. Making eye contact with Robert, Peter nodded. "I promise."
"You're a good boy," William smiled vaguely and let go of Peter's hand. "I'm tired."
Lucy went to the bed and stroked his temple. "We will let you sleep then and come back later, darling."
...
At the Burkes
9.45 am
The meeting with Peter's family unfortunately had been shorter than planned and Neal was disappointed by the fact. Peter had introduced the children and the dog to him, before they had left for the hospital.
But of course Neal had fully understood the hasty departure. Nevertheless, there were still the kids he had to take care of so he didn't mind. Standing at the front door, he waved his goodbye to the Burkes and watched them leave by car. As he turned around, he saw Jeremy and Amy in the hallway. Amy seemed to be shy and stood close to her big brother.
With a mischievous grin, the boy asked, "So, you're with the FBI like Uncle Pete?"
"Well," Neal said and grinned as he heard the nickname. "Basically, yes."
"Basically?"
How could he explain his work situation without giving away too much? Plus, he didn't know how much Peter had told him. "I work as a consultant."
"Then you're no agent?" Jeremy studied him closely. "You don't look like one at all."
"No, I'm not an agent." Neal involuntarily looked down at himself. The boy was right. With the stubble, the jeans and shirt he hardly corresponded with the usual "Special Agent Peter Burke" FBI standard.
"Are you a police man, then?"
"Not that either."
"Then what you are?"
Neal thought for a moment. "Oh, um, I'm...I'm working as an informant."
"And what are you doing exactly?"
"I consult. Gathering and delivering information."
Jeremy's facial expression showed his boredom.
"I read case files, look for solutions and give hints," Neal tried to explain. "Point out details, analyze crimes and help your uncle to catch criminals." Listening to himself, Neal had to admit that it sounded very lame.
"That doesn't sound very exciting." Unimpressed Jeremy stuffed his hands into the pant pockets and looked at Amy. "C’mon. Let's play Wii."
Well, Neal thought, that went smooth. He watched after them as they ran down the hallway. Suddenly he felt redundant. But he had no choice but to join them. "Don't you have something else to entertain yourself?" Today's youth was too much attached to electronic equipment and had lost sight of the essentials.
Jeremy looked over his shoulder. "What do you mean?"
"Something that doesn't require electricity?"
"And what would that be?"
Neal raised his hand and began to enumerate. "Reading? Painting? Board games? Pool? Poker?" In response, he got a giggle from Amy and a snort from Jeremy. That'll be fun, Neal shook his head.
For the first time, Amy spoke, still laughing. "You're weird."
...
Cayuga Medical Center
1 pm
In front of the entrance, Robert turned to Lucy and Peter. "What are your plans for today?"
Peter thought about it and looked at Lucy. "To be honest, I could use something to eat. Shall we go to a restaurant?"
Lucy waved a hand. "I'm not hungry."
"But you should eat something," Peter insisted. "I don't want you to faint." In fact, the 68-year old looked pale and fragile.
"Peter is right, Mom," Robert stepped in and looked at his watch. "I wouldn't mind taking lunch." He hesitated. "But what about Neal?"
"What about him?"
"Shouldn't we head home?"
Peter shook his head. So far he had received neither a phone call nor a text from Neal, so everything was fine. "He can take of himself. He's a grown man after all."
...
At the Burkes
1.15 pm
"Oh, c'mon! How old are you? Five?" Jeremy stood in front of Neal, with his hands on his hips. "You are cheating!"
My goodness, that's a mini-Peter, Neal thought and tried hard not to laugh out loud. The same facial expressions and gestures. That's really scary. "I do not!" It had cost him a lot of persuasion (was it just him, or was it actually harder to convince others these days? These kids had been persistent for a long time) to talk them into playing board games. But in the end he had been successful.
By now he was very good with them. They had eaten homemade hamburgers for lunch and afterwards washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. After that they had moved into the living room and had various games spread around them on the floor.
"Of course you do!" With his index finger Jeremy pointed at the Parcheesi game in front of them on the coffee table. "You reversed the hat!"
Neal turned to Amy, who sat beside him on the couch and winked at her. "Did you see anything?" The more time they had spent together, the more the little girl became less reserved. Amy participated actively. Neal had charmed her quickly and was now - of course - taking advantage of it.
She grinned back and shook her head vehemently. Her two braids swirled in the air. "Nope."
The boy was good, so much Neal had to admit. Jeremy was bright and a quick learner. And had eager eyes. It wasn't as if he intentionally cheated, though, yeah, he had intentionally cheated. But just because Jeremy had only agreed to the board games if he had the right to determine the next game for the Wii in case he won the Parcheesi game. And Neal wasn't in the mood for shooting games. Now his goal was to buy time until Peter and the others would return. "Okay, let's start all over again then."
...
Mahogany Grill
2 pm
After they had placed their orders, the three enjoyed the pleasant afternoon sun at one of the tables that were set outside of the restaurant. As he sipped his beer, Peter's cell phone rang. "Hey, Hon," he greeted his wife after he had seen the caller-ID and smiled.
"Hi, Hon. Any news from Bill?"
"We just visited him," Peter answered. "He's still a bit messed up, but as far as I can tell, he's doing fine considering the circumstances. His attending physician is confident that he's back on his feet, soon."
"That is wonderful news. Please say hello to Lucy."
"Oh, she's here with me. We're in town for lunch. Would you like to talk to her?"
"I'd love to. It's 11 am here and I'm having lunch with my client later on. We’ll talk later tonight?"
"Sounds good to me. I wish you a nice day, Hon."
"The same to you, Hon. Later!"
Peter handed his cell phone to Lucy.
Robert took the opportunity and slid closer to his brother. "And what do you think of Dad?"
"What do you mean?" Peter asked the counter question.
"Well, the thing with the murder Dad talked about?"
"You've heard the doctor. Hallucinations caused by the drugs. Figment of the imagination. That's all." Peter leaned back on his chair and looked at Robert. "And besides, you said yourself that the Gordons have moved out."
"So that means you'll do nothing?"
Peter knew what Robert was up to. "You mean, because I've said I would take a look?"
The waiter brought the chopped Mediterranean salad for Lucy as well as the honeysuckle roast beef sandwich for Robert and the char-grilled 8oz Black Angus burger for Peter.
Robert nodded. "Yeah."
"Sure, I can take a look and ask the neighbors," Peter answered, rubbing his hands in anticipation at the sight of the burger. With relish he took a bite and chewed on it with closed eyes. 8oz of pure Black Angus meat. Hallelujah! Fortunately Elizabeth was on the other side of the country, because she would reproachfully give him a stern look. After he had swallowed, he said, "But you shouldn't have great expectations, though."
...
At the Burkes
4.30 pm
When Lucy, Robert and Peter got out of the car, Peter paused and eyed the property vigilantly. It was almost disturbing that Neal hadn't called. His gut feeling told him to be alert. "I don't want to know what the three of them got up to," he muttered under his breath.
Robert turned around. "Come again?"
"Oh, I, uh, I was just thinking out loud."
Lucy had opened the front door and waved them into the house.
The closer they got to the living room, the more they could hear music and laughter. Peter raised an eyebrow and stopped. A grin appeared on his face. The music didn't come out of the stereo, but from the TV. But much more interesting was the fact that in that very moment two totally psyched laughing children and a grown up looking man were moving to the song "Hot stuff" from Donna Summer and didn't take their eyes from the screen. Thus, they didn't notice that they were being watched.
"What's that?" Peter asked, his brow still furrowed.
"Oh, that's one of those karaoke games. The difference is, you don't sing, but dance to whatever's on the screen. The PlayStation has kind of a motion sensor and in the end the one who danced best wins," Robert explained grinning. "Pam and I have to do it from time to time." He watched the three and added, "Your boy isn't that bad at all."
"My...what?" Peter nudged Robert and looked at Neal. He nodded approvingly when he answered, "Yeah, you're right."
The song ended and Neal suddenly seemed to sense that someone else was in the room. He turned around, still gasping for air and put the remote on the table. "Oh, you're back?" He stopped and corrected his question. "How long have you been here?"
"Long enough to admire your dance routine, Travolta," Peter smiled and was glad that Neal had been the one to participate, for he himself would have failed miserably. He was sure he would have only earned scorn and ridicule from Jeremy and Amy for his dance moves.
Still slightly out of breath, Neal quickly adjusted his tie that had loosened during the dancing. "How is your husband? If you don't mind the question."
Lucy seemed pleased. "His condition remains stable and we are all happy about it. The doctor said that he has already made progress." She turned towards Peter. "Such a nice young man. I mean, for a convicted felon he's very gallant."
"Oh, sure. Because of this, he's also under constant surveillance," Peter pointed out flatly. "He can sell light switches to the Amish if he needs to." Of course he hadn't missed the fact that Neal had succeed to wrap another woman round his little finger.
"Don't worry. Everything's still here," Neal replied calmly. Apparently he had expected such a response from Peter. "I didn't leave the house."
"It would be wise," Peter murmured. He knew his friend well enough to read between the lines. The 'I didn't leave the house' could also mean that Neal had inspected the whole house. But to cause no trouble, Peter kept this for himself. And somehow his gut feeling told him that Neal had told the truth and hadn't done anything wrong.
"And? What have you been doing?" Robert asked his children. "Aside from playing Wii?"
"Neal made us hamburgers!" Amy told with shining eyes.
"Yeah, yummy!" Jeremy agreed.
"Really?" Robert seemed to have accepted the situation, but was still distant to Neal.
"I hope you don't mind. But I didn't want to call the delivery service and the kids meant that you had bought the stuff for the picnic yesterday and I-," Neal spoke up, sounding uncertain.
"Oh, don't worry about it," Lucy shook her head.
"And after that we've played a lot of games," Amy grinned.
"Neal cheated," Jeremy interrupted her. "I've seen it!"
Peter looked at Neal and raised an eyebrow.
Grinning broadly, Neal put his hands in his pockets, shrugged and bobbed slightly up and down while he had his 'Who? Me?' expression on his face.
Robert's expressions though, spoke volumes. He cleared his throat. "Okay, kiddos. Grab your things, we're going home." The school had reversed the quarantine after the suspected virus hadn't been confirmed.
"But we're not even finished!" Amy interjected and looked at her father with big pleading eyes. "Just one more song. Please!"
"No, I have to go back to the office. I'll drop you off at home," Robert insisted.
Jeremy supported his little sister. "But Dad! Just one more song!
"Before this degenerates into an argument," Neal suggested, "and in order to shorten the whole thing, I would say one more song couldn't hurt. That's...what...3 to 4 minutes?" He looked at Robert. "I mean, unless you want to deal with two pouting children for the rest of the evening?"
Peter approached Robert. "Even though I hate to admit it, but Neal's proposal sounds good. It's only 3 to 4 minutes."
Jeremy and Amy were already dealing with the PlayStation and sought out a song. Amy came back after a few seconds and pressed something in Peter's hand. "You're in."
Peter looked baffled at his hand and recognized some kind of remote control. "Oh, no Amy. I'm not good at dancing."
Just like she had played with her father, the girl positioned himself in front of Peter. "Oh, c'mon!"
"Peter," Neal said, beaming. "You said it yourself. It's only 3 to 4 minutes. Or do you want to apply as a coward?"
Even though Peter knew that Neal had said that on purpose to challenge him, he finally agreed. His ambition was aroused. "You call me a coward?" He asked, pointing to Neal. "Well then, brace yourself." Determined, he rolled up his shirt sleeves. After all, he had taken a salsa course with El and had danced tango with the woman who became known as the Black Widow. What could go wrong then?
Amy and Jeremy found the thought of dancing with the adults very amusing and after a last glance back over his shoulder pushed the start button. It was obvious that they knew the songs and moves by heart.
Neal also seemed very composed and concentrated for a moment as the first bars of Ke$ha's "TikTok" rang out. Then he began to follow the shown choreography.
Peter, however, swallowed hard. What the hell kind of music was that?! This wasn't the kind of music he was used to, but he couldn't back down now, because he didn't want to be a spoilsport either.
Chapter 7
After the longest four minutes of his life, lots of laughter from Amy and Jeremy and some applause from the two spectators, Peter was more than relieved when the children collected the remotes, still giggling. It hadn't surprised him that Neal had shown the best performance from all. However, he was also aware that from now on Neal would tease him because of his dance interlude. Still out of breath, he looked at his brother and mother who seemed very amused. After all, Peter was very grateful that nobody had videotaped this session.
A short time later, after Robert had gone home with the children, Peter and Neal gathered around the kitchen table where Lucy served them lemonade. "I'm going to call Aunt Rachel," she said and left the room. "She's waiting for updates."
"How's your dad?" Neal wanted to know after they were the only two left.
Peter drew in a deep breath. "Better." But to be honest, he was still a bit shocked about the sight of his father earlier. He hadn't seen him this weak and fragile before. With one hand he rubbed his face, because he could feel the exhaustion overpower him slowly.
"I don't know him, but I know you. And I think, no, I'm convinced that if you both have something in common, then William is tough and will fight back," Neal said softly.
Peter looked at his friend and smiled. "Yeah, I think so, too." Since his mother wasn't here, he could speak freely. "Although I must admit that he's quite shaken and I've never seen him like that before. And he acted strange, you know. Babbling nonsense, that kind of stuff."
"Nonsense?" Neal raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
"He's convinced he witnessed a murder." Peter pointed to the window. "On the neighboring property. Only moments before he suffered the heart attack."
"A murder? Oh, that's...," Neal searched for the right words, "...no idea. Unusual." He immediately stood up and walked to the window to look outside.
Peter shook his head. "His physician said it isn't unusual since the drugs may cause hallucinations."
"But you don't think so?" Neal asked and still looked outside.
"Dad was so upset that I promised him to take look to calm him down."
Neal came back to the table and took a sip before he answered, "So, what are you waiting for? Let's take a look."
Of course Peter didn't miss that Neal was very eager to get into action, so he tried to counteract. "I think that would lead to nothing. Robert told me that the house has been sold. The new owner is here only sporadically."
"Judged by the sight of the garden, that seems to be true. But you know that appearances can be deceiving."
And with that Neal had hit the nail on the head. Now Peter was really unsure what to do, because on the one hand he was curious. On the other hand, everything was more than implausible. And he wasn't eager to make a fool of himself. "I don't know, Neal."
"What of it! It's not like we would break in." Like to be expected, Neal was very impressed by his idea. "It would be more like we're reaching in."
"Don't you dare!"
"What shouldn't he dare, Peter?"
Surprised to hear his mother's voice, Peter turned around. "Oh, nothing Mom." Silently he exchanged a glance with Neal and cleared his throat. He secretly hoped that Neal would take the hint.
Lucy seemed not fully convinced, but she didn't comment any further in this regard. "Aunt Rachel is coming over tomorrow and will join us when we go visit Bill. I'll be baking cheesecake. He likes it so much, just like you." Then she began to prepare and got the utensils out of the cupboards. "Do you want some more lemonade?"
"No, thanks Mrs. Burke. I should better be going," Neal said, standing up. "It was a pleasure to meet you."
Lucy smiled fondly. "My pleasure."
"Please tell your husband my get well wishes."
"Thank you, I'll do that."
Relieved, that Neal played along, Peter stood up and couldn't help but grin because he could see that his mother was quite taken by Neal. Although this was to be expected. "Any plans for the evening?" He wanted to know from Neal and made a gesture to his friend to follow him.
"I haven't planned on something," Neal said while he followed Peter. "But if I meet Rick again, I’ll make sure to go to bed way earlier."
"How did you get to know each other at all?" He remembered that he had forgotten to call Jones in regards of Rick Castle. But for now he would listen to Neal's version first and then he still could decide whether to call his colleague or not. They walked slowly towards the front door.
"Oh, that's a long story," Neal waved his hand. "And totally boring anyway."
Peter didn't let go. "Why don't you let me decide whether your story is entertaining or not. And now I want to hear facts."
Neal looked at him, frowning, before he said, "You don't trust him, do you?"
"I'm always suspicious when it comes to your friends."
"Thank you very much."
Peter smirked. "After all, he looks more trustworthy than Mozzie."
"Rick is an upstanding citizen," Neal defended his friend. "He's a very successful writer who also works with NYPD. You can check that." Only a second later, Neal added, "You already did, didn't you?"
"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Peter replied with a shrug and an innocent expression that not even Neal could have done better.
"But you wanted to, admit it!"
"Yes, that's right. But I haven't had the opportunity to." There was no point in trying to tell Neal something else. Therefore they both knew each other too well. "And I'll do it, depending on how credible your story is."
There was a brief pause in which Neal played with his tie. "Basically, we met each other by chance," he started. "About ten years ago, he held a lecture from one of his new novels and I was in the bookstore because I'd searched for a special book for...Kate...Rick's lecture was quite interesting and I talked to him afterwards, pointing out some errors in his account of one of his fictional characters. After that, we couldn't stay in contact, for reasons you may know."
"You were on the run some time later," Peter nodded. "And in prison after that."
"Exactly. Later on, we met by chance once more. Rick has participated in a program in order to get inmates interested in literature. Back then I was working at the library." Again, he paused for a moment. They had reached the door. "He was obviously very surprised to see me inside that...facility, but he talked to me without any prejudgment and thanked me for the advice I'd given him at our first meeting. We talked for hours. And in the end...he created a new character based on my facts." Neal was grinning broadly.
"Why am I not surprised?" Peter sighed.
Without going into Peter's comment, Neal said, "We started to write letters about - alleged - art thefts and things like that, you know. Rick takes his work very seriously, even if his attitude says otherwise."
"By now he has improved the kind of audience. From prison inmates to college students," Peter commented dryly.
"Probably because the proportion of women in college is much higher than in jail." Suddenly Neal began to laugh. "Warden Haskley wasn't very pleased with my pen pal I think. But there was nothing he could do against it."
"And even if he could have done something, you would have found a way to stay in contact. You love the challenge."
"Just like you."
Peter took the car keys from the wardrobe in the hallway. "I'll drive you back to the hotel. Thank you for taking care of the children."
"I can call a cab," Neal suggested, before he nodded, "No problem. Though, I guess that you just wanted to make sure I stayed out of trouble."
"My plan worked, right?" Peter grinned.
Suddenly they heard Lucy's voice from the kitchen. "Peter?"
"Yeah?"
"I need your help. The cat is on the tree. Again," she said with a sigh as she approached the two men.
After a glance towards Neal, Peter said, "Where's the ladder?"
"Robert has put it back into the garage."
Peter said to Neal, "You're a good climber. Wasn't there a theft of two Van Gogh's back in 2002?"
"You mean the business in Amsterdam?"
"Yes."
"Where the thief got access to the roof with a long ladder?"
"Right."
"And then roped down next to the main entrance?"
"Exactly."
Neal smiled mischievously. "I've heard of it."
"Only heard of it? Then why can I remember reading your name in one of the files? I thought you were involved?"
"Allegedly."
...
The more Peter tried to get hold of the cat, the higher the animal climbed to the top. He had made the first attempt to rescue Buddha. However, he hadn't expected the perseverance of the cat. At the end of his patience, Peter muttered, "And if I have to cut tree to the ground by myself...the tomcat must come down."
Neal had his arms crossed and surveyed the scene. "I don't think your mother would agree to that."
Peter was still standing on the ladder and looked at the cat. I could swear he laughs at me. "Oh, thanks. Any other ideas, Einstein?"
"Maybe we should just wait until it will be regulated by nature," Neal suggested. "At some point the branches get too thin. As thick as Buddha is, he can't get up any higher. It's only a matter of time until one branch can't resist any longer. At the end, gravity always wins."
"You're mean," Peter said with a wry smile, because secretly he had thought the same. The difference was, he hadn't said it - in contrast to Neal - not out loud.
"No, just honest."
Peter took a deep breath and got down the ladder. "Here," he said to Neal and offered him a candy bar. "Comfort food." If he had a weakness, then his preference for this type of candy (and no, he hadn't looked for it...he had found it in the kitchen cabinet quite by accident of course). He just had to be careful with the food because he was sure he gained a few pounds by the time he would be back to Brooklyn. Still, he couldn't resist the temptations. At the thought of freshly baked cheesecake he got a watery mouth. "Although this is no comparison to Mom's cake of course. But all in all it's better than nothing."
With a skillful gesture Neal caught the candy bar and nodded. "Thanks." They sat down on the ground, with their backs on the trunk. "How is she by the way? She seems to cope well with the situation."
"Well, yes, you should have seen her yesterday evening. Back then she was devastated."
"It's only fair," Neal said and remained silent for a moment. "I think it was a good thing to come home. It certainly was a shock for her. And she needs someone she can mother hen."
"Above all, she's not used to being alone. Mom and Dad are together for over 50 years." And once again he was amazed how well Neal was able to read people. "You know, I can't stop thinking of the murder," Peter tried to change the subject as he chewed. "I don't know what to do."
"Well," Neal shrugged, "my suggestion is indeed fallen on deaf ears."
With a frown, Peter turned around. "Your suggestion included to break into the house."
"I would never do that."
"Of course not," Peter interjected without hesitation. "You'd find another way, but the end result would be the same. If anything, we'll talk to the neighbors."
Unnoticed by both, Buddha had meandered down the branch (a bit clumsy but nevertheless) and sat contentedly on the top ladder step. The rustling of the bar wrapper had sounded quite tempting for him and he meowed to the two strange men who apparently represented the source of the rustling. Surprised by the noise, both looked up.
"Look, who lives up to his name," Neal laughed and pointed to the cat.
"Why?"
"Buddha means 'the awakened one' and I think it's safe to say that he's indeed very much alive," Neal explained and carefully stood up. "Are you hungry?" He spoke to the animal with a soft voice and approached him slowly.
Buddha didn't seem to expect something bad to happen and stretched slightly forward to sniff.
Neal continued to climb up the ladder step by step. "Here we go. Look at you. You seem curious, huh?" Rubbing the foil with his fingers, Neal closed the distance between them. "Isn't that beautiful? Yeah, something very beautiful, right?"
Peter still was skeptical, but assisted Neal by also standing up and moving slowly in the direction of the ladder. "Oh great, now he even flirts with cats," he rolled his eyes. "Hey, Dr. Doolittle, grab him and that's it."
Totally absorbed by his task, Neal didn't reply. He rose another step and the success was within his reach. Slowly he played with the foil in front of Buddha and got the cat's attention. With his right hand he grabbed Buddha by the neck before the cat could react. Startled by this action, the cat tried to escape. Neal let go of the foil and lifted the cat with his left hand. "For heaven's sake! He's really as heavy as he looks like," he exclaimed amazed as he stood freehand on the ladder.
"Yeah!" Peter triumphed and raised his fist in the air. "Mission accomplished!"
"Hey, watch out! You're scaring him," Neal warned, but it was too late. Alarmed by Peter's loud voice, the cat tried to wriggle itself out of Neal's grip. Using its claws and snarling dangerously, Buddha was fiercely trying to get free. As quickly as possible Neal tried to come down the ladder. Then he let go of the cat, who ran off in the direction of the cat flap and disappeared into the house.
"You alright?" Peter asked as he saw that Neal had suffered some bloody scrapes on his hand. "I'm sorry."
Eyeing his injuries, Neal muttered, "His physical appearance is deceiving. He's devious."
"Well, if you ask me, I would have cut down the tree," Peter whistled through his teeth.
"I would have been curious of your confession after your mother demanded an explanation."
"We would have come up with something clever, but the subject doesn't matter anymore," Peter said and brought the ladder back to the garage.
"I admit, I would have liked to see you using the chainsaw," Neal reconsidered, sounding a little bit disappointed.
In order to cheer Neal a bit up, Peter patted him on the shoulder and handed him a handkerchief. "At least, we've done a good deed today!"
...
Once in the house, they were happily greeted by Lucy. "I see you've actually got him down the tree. Thank you!"
"Neal has been injured by Buddha. Do you have some disinfectant spray?" Peter asked.
"Oh no!" Lucy exclaimed worried and held her hands over her mouth. "I'm very sorry. Come with me so I can take a look at it."
"Don't worry, Mrs. Burke. There are just some scratches." Neal didn't want to cause any unnecessary circumstances. But before he knew it, Lucy had grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him down the hall. "Really...it's nothing serious!"
"Poppycock! It'll take only a few seconds."
With a glance back over his shoulder, Neal could see that Peter was grinning while he waved at them. "I'll wait in the kitchen."
During his criminal career he had had to deal repeatedly with minor injuries, only topped with the bullet wound in his thigh which he counted as a more serious one. But the four scratches on his left hand and the palm weren't really worth mentioning. Unfortunately Lucy was already in full mother hen mode. She was determined to make sure he wouldn't bleed to death, so it seemed. He wasn't used to such attention and felt a little uncomfortable. Just because he didn't want appear to be rude, he didn't resist following her into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat after she gently pressed him down.
Lucy went to the cupboard and pulled out a first aid kit, which she sat on the edge of the sink. Then she grabbed a washcloth, damped it and started to dab away the blood from Neal's hand. "I'm really sorry, Mr. Caffrey," she said as she gently took care of the wounds.
"No harm done, Mrs. Bu-"
"Lucy," she offered and looked at him briefly.
"Lucy," he repeated and nodded, "Neal."
"These are two really deep scratches," she said softly as she examined both sides of Neal's hand and grabbed a tube of ointment. "I think I'll make a bandage that stays on overnight, so that the ointment is more effective."
"Really that's not necessary." So much attention to his person was unusual for Neal, yet it brought back old memories. Memories of how Ellen had taken care of him when he had come home again with abrasions or contusions after he had played with older boys in St. Louis. The city had been like a giant playground for them and there had been no limits (not to them anyway). Much to the chagrin of Ellen, who had repeatedly pulled him by the ears. A sad smile appeared on his face. One day he had injured his leg on a piece of rusty wire mesh fence when he and a few of his buddies had rummaged around a junkyard. For fear of getting into trouble because of the torn pants, he had tucked them away (yes, early on he already had unconsciously been working on his criminal career by finding perfect hiding places). For exactly one week he had been successful with keeping the incident a secret. Then he got very sick because the wound on his leg got inflamed. The result had been a stay at the hospital to get his fever down. Besides that, he almost had died of homesickness. During his stay there he had nearly perfected his talent to sneak unnoticed out of his hospital room. Almost. Ellen had found him within an hour on the street waiting on a bus stop.
"Neal?"
Startled by Lucy's voice, he was brought back to reality. He blinked a few times. "Hmm?"
"You seemed...away. Are you okay?" She secured a band aid on the end of the bandage around his hand.
"Um yes," Neal said and cleared his throat when he eyed the bandage. "It's not the first time you're doing this, is it?"
"Oh my goodness, no." She laughed infectiously. "With two sons who had always been very active in sports and a husband who worked on construction sites, I became a very good nurse." Once again, she looked at him questioningly. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine. I was...I was just thinking of something that happened to me as a child." Although he had met Lucy just recently, he felt confident enough in her presence to be honest to her. "I was quite a handful as a child."
"I bet you were. You've got that look. Your mother certainly must have been delighted."
Neal's face darkened slightly as he thought of his mother. "Not quite. My aunt raised me. Mom was-" He stopped and shook his head. "Never mind. Thank you for your help." He raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. "It's much better." Then he stood up. "I think I'll go back to Peter." On the way back he noticed a wall full of pictures. Neal paused and had to suppress a laugh when he saw a few portraits of Peter as a child. Before they would head back to New York, he had to snap a few pictures of it with his cell phone. His colleagues would freak out by the sight of this. In particular, one image of Peter showed him sitting on the lawn, eating ice cream. He couldn't be older than 12 months. Then there were two pictures of him in typical baseball outfit. Neal guessed him about 5 or 6 years old. On one pic he stood with the baseball bat in hand, ready to swing it at the ball. On the other, he just knelt and smiled broadly into the camera.
As Neal entered the kitchen, Peter was standing near the window and talking on the cell phone.
"Right...and that's all? Hmm, okay. If something comes up, please contact me. Thanks, Jones."
Neal stood beside him and waited.
"I see that Mom couldn't resist," Peter laughed and pointed to the bandaged hand. After he put away the phone, he said, "According to Jones, there are no reports from the police and the current owner has no criminal record or is somehow conspicuous otherwise."
"That doesn't mean a thing. Even though he hasn't been reported so far, doesn't mean at all that he has a clean slate. It just means he's good at keeping his criminal activities unnoticed." After he saw Peter's questioning look, Neal quickly added, "So I've heard."
"Sure you have."
"And now?"
"Let's settle this issue," Peter answered and seemed more confident. "I'll drive you back to the hotel."
"Don't you want to stay for a while, Neal?" Lucy asked who had just entered the kitchen. "I can make sandwiches. We still have some left over tuna salad. Do you like tuna salad Neal?"
Peter's mother apparently had a crush on him. Silently he exchanged looks with him and then shrugged. "How could I turn down such a kind invitation?" If he was doing this skillfully, he would be able to learn something from Peter's childhood this evening. And the best part of all was that Peter couldn't do much about it.
Smiling, Lucy pointed to one direction. "Why don't you sit on the terrace? It's still beautiful weather outside."
...
It didn't take long for Lucy to come back with a tray full of dishes and glasses. She didn't accept Neal's offer to help and disappeared in the house again.
Neal just smirked.
"What's up?" Peter wanted to know, and felt like he missed the forest for the trees.
"Your mother desperately needs someone she can mother hen," Neal commented and took a sip.
A short time later the cat joined them, but stopped immediately as it realized who sat on the terrace.
His reaction didn't go unnoticed by Neal. "Hi, Sid," he greeted the cat, but got no response. "I guess he doesn't like me. Yet I haven't done anything to him. Quite the contrary," he said and didn't let the cat out of his sight. Referring to his battered left hand, he mumbled, "I'm the victim."
Lucy had brought some sandwiches and looked at Neal and Buddha. "I don't think it has to do with the rescue. Buddha is always a bit shy at the beginning when it comes to strangers. Besides, he can't show any reaction when you call him by a false name."
"Speaking of," Peter cut in, and was either way surprised that his parents owned a cat, "why is he called Buddha at all? I mean, it is a rather unusual name for a cat."
"His name has nothing to do with his physique," Lucy answered. "Even though one thinks that may be the reason. But rather the fact that he always sleeps near the stone Buddha in the garden. Actually he was a stray. He popped up one day and he seems to like it here. At least he's been here for two years now." She gave Neal a bowl for the salad. "You've made me curious, though. Why did you call him Sid?"
Neal smiled. "The real name for the man we call Buddha is Siddhartha Gautama. Buddha is actually a title for someone who has experienced an epiphany. Hence the name Buddha means "the awakened one" or "enlightened" in Sanskrit. It's important to point out that the enlightenment has to be done on our own."
Peter wasn't surprise to such things from Neal. The former con man was well educated and a man of vast reading. It was a shame that Neal had used his intelligence for the wrong reasons and wrong side of the law. At the moment however, Peter wasn't sure if Neal's basic knowledge about Buddhism would ever be helpful in a case. He just hoped that it hadn't already found application.
As if on cue, Neal shrugged innocently and grinned, "That's what I've once read on one of those large picture calendars."
...
After the dinner, Lucy and Neal were cleaning the dishes while Peter had gone to the bathroom. Neal stood beside her and chatted with her lively.
"Seems like yesterday to me...," she laughed and gave Neal a plate to dry.
In the corner of his eyes, Neal saw Peter standing in the doorway. "Hey, we just revel in memories from you."
"Oh no," Peter rolled his eyes, looked at his mother and shook his head. "How can you do this to me?"
"Oh yes," Neal grinned, sounding dead serious. "I'm convinced that the story of your Nobel Prize worthy discovery will be discussed generations after you."
"Which of my many strokes of genius do you mean?"
"The one in which you have created this wonderful green fog that wobbled through the house."
"Oh," Peter murmured, wondering briefly. "Now, that happened ages ago."
"Could be. But it's interesting to learn this new side from you. Never expected you to work in the field of natural science."
Peter shrugged with his shoulders indifferently. Neal played on the fact that he had run experiments in the basement with his chemistry set at the tender age of 8. Actually, he had wanted to create blue crystals of copper sulfate, but it had been a flop. Instead, he had unintentionally produced green mist. "Yes, I did. For exactly one week. After the incident I turned to mathematics and sports." When he saw the wide grin of Neal, he grimaced. "Oh, great. I'll get to hear this again and again from now on, am I right?"
"Only from time to time," Neal played down the issue, shrugging with his shoulders.
"I'll take you back to the hotel now."
To be continued...
See Chapter 1 for more information
Chapter 6
Cayuga Medical Center
10 am
The ride to the hospital was held mostly in silence, while Robert steered the car through the traffic.
At the hospital Lucy led the way since she had been there yesterday. She remembered everything clearly because she had been wandering around the other day while she had waited for the test results.
Peter and Robert followed her with some distance. They entered the ICU and had to call for a nurse first who opened the connection door to the station. Then they were told to disinfect their hands. The nurse told them that the doctor would be here soon.
William was connected to several devices and laid on the bed with half closed eyes, but he didn't notice his visitors. The machines worked and peeped incessantly. Normally one couldn't tell that William was 72 years old, but right now he seemed to be aged by 10 years. His white hair was uncombed.
Lucy stood beside him and gently stroked his beard as she spoke softly to him. "We are all here now, dear." She gestured at the two to step closer.
Peter looked in Robert's direction and then walked to the other side of the bed and took the left hand of his father. "Hey Dad," he said and smiled as William actually responded to his voice and turned his head towards Peter.
William blinked a few times and seemed to consider. "Petey...," he whispered and weakly squeezed Peter's hand.
"Surprised to see me, huh?" Peter grinned and touched his father's head.
"Yes," William murmured. Turning his head back towards Lucy and Robert, he asked, "What...happened?"
"You're in the hospital, but everything will be fine." Lucy spoke softly to him and still held his right hand in hers. "Robert is here, too."
Exhausted, William nodded and closed his eyes.
"He's tired because of the drugs," Lucy explained, echoing the words of Dr. Teabing with whom she had talked yesterday.
As if on cue, the man entered the room and greeted everyone. "Good morning, my name is Dr. Teabing." After that he directly spoke to Lucy. "Mrs. Burke, I can assure you that he has already made progress. There were no incidents during the night, so I'm really pleased." After a brief pause, he continued, "Today we will start to mobilize him little by little, get him moving again."
Peter nodded. "Good. I suppose that the lab results show no alarmingly signs? What about his ECG? And why is his chest bandaged?" Without further ado, as always, Peter was straight forward.
The doctor looked puzzled for a moment. "Um, yes, although some cardio-vascular levels are still at a upper limit, the rest shows significant positive changes. The long-term ECG shows no other significant arrhythmias," he said, looking at the medical file. "The fall down the ladder caused two bruised ribs. All in all he had been very lucky. Thanks to the quick response of your neighbor, the effects of the heart attack are minor."
"But he was so confused yesterday," Lucy pointed out. "He always said that someone wanted to murder him."
With a raised eyebrow, Peter looked at her. "You didn't tell me that."
"I think it's safe to say that that is a side-effect from the morphine. It's not unusual to cause hallucinations," Dr. Teabing explained and looked at his watch. "If you have any more questions, you can page me. Have a nice day."
The three stayed with William for a time, who woke up several times after the visit from Dr. Teabing. Just as they wanted to leave and Peter started to say goodbye to him, William suddenly took his hand and didn't let go. He seemed to be attentively as he got up a bit and slightly moved towards Peter. Surprised by this gesture, Peter waited for another reaction.
"Petey! Petey!" William's voice was hoarse and his eyes were big as he looked at his son. "Murder!"
Frowning, Peter leaned down to speak with his father. "Dad, it's alright. You're still a little bit confused. Nobody here wants to hurt you."
"No, no." William shook his head franticly. "A murder...I've seen...a murder!" Sighing, he let himself sink back. "On the neighboring property..."
Peter was still skeptical. "You're watching too much TV," he smirked slightly and looked at his mother and brother and shrugged with his shoulders.
Still, William didn't back down. "I've seen it!" Breathing hard, he swallowed. "The Gordons."
"The Gordons moved out last October," Robert objected and seemed also confused.
Peter noticed the strain it took for William to make his point, as the machines peeped alarmingly. "Dad, take it easy. Relax. I...," he thought for a moment, "...I'll take a look, okay? After we get home. Alright?"
"Okay," William nodded and sighed. "Promise it, son."
Actually, Peter had no intention to investigate, but at the moment it seemed appropriate to tell William a white lie. Making eye contact with Robert, Peter nodded. "I promise."
"You're a good boy," William smiled vaguely and let go of Peter's hand. "I'm tired."
Lucy went to the bed and stroked his temple. "We will let you sleep then and come back later, darling."
...
At the Burkes
9.45 am
The meeting with Peter's family unfortunately had been shorter than planned and Neal was disappointed by the fact. Peter had introduced the children and the dog to him, before they had left for the hospital.
But of course Neal had fully understood the hasty departure. Nevertheless, there were still the kids he had to take care of so he didn't mind. Standing at the front door, he waved his goodbye to the Burkes and watched them leave by car. As he turned around, he saw Jeremy and Amy in the hallway. Amy seemed to be shy and stood close to her big brother.
With a mischievous grin, the boy asked, "So, you're with the FBI like Uncle Pete?"
"Well," Neal said and grinned as he heard the nickname. "Basically, yes."
"Basically?"
How could he explain his work situation without giving away too much? Plus, he didn't know how much Peter had told him. "I work as a consultant."
"Then you're no agent?" Jeremy studied him closely. "You don't look like one at all."
"No, I'm not an agent." Neal involuntarily looked down at himself. The boy was right. With the stubble, the jeans and shirt he hardly corresponded with the usual "Special Agent Peter Burke" FBI standard.
"Are you a police man, then?"
"Not that either."
"Then what you are?"
Neal thought for a moment. "Oh, um, I'm...I'm working as an informant."
"And what are you doing exactly?"
"I consult. Gathering and delivering information."
Jeremy's facial expression showed his boredom.
"I read case files, look for solutions and give hints," Neal tried to explain. "Point out details, analyze crimes and help your uncle to catch criminals." Listening to himself, Neal had to admit that it sounded very lame.
"That doesn't sound very exciting." Unimpressed Jeremy stuffed his hands into the pant pockets and looked at Amy. "C’mon. Let's play Wii."
Well, Neal thought, that went smooth. He watched after them as they ran down the hallway. Suddenly he felt redundant. But he had no choice but to join them. "Don't you have something else to entertain yourself?" Today's youth was too much attached to electronic equipment and had lost sight of the essentials.
Jeremy looked over his shoulder. "What do you mean?"
"Something that doesn't require electricity?"
"And what would that be?"
Neal raised his hand and began to enumerate. "Reading? Painting? Board games? Pool? Poker?" In response, he got a giggle from Amy and a snort from Jeremy. That'll be fun, Neal shook his head.
For the first time, Amy spoke, still laughing. "You're weird."
...
Cayuga Medical Center
1 pm
In front of the entrance, Robert turned to Lucy and Peter. "What are your plans for today?"
Peter thought about it and looked at Lucy. "To be honest, I could use something to eat. Shall we go to a restaurant?"
Lucy waved a hand. "I'm not hungry."
"But you should eat something," Peter insisted. "I don't want you to faint." In fact, the 68-year old looked pale and fragile.
"Peter is right, Mom," Robert stepped in and looked at his watch. "I wouldn't mind taking lunch." He hesitated. "But what about Neal?"
"What about him?"
"Shouldn't we head home?"
Peter shook his head. So far he had received neither a phone call nor a text from Neal, so everything was fine. "He can take of himself. He's a grown man after all."
...
At the Burkes
1.15 pm
"Oh, c'mon! How old are you? Five?" Jeremy stood in front of Neal, with his hands on his hips. "You are cheating!"
My goodness, that's a mini-Peter, Neal thought and tried hard not to laugh out loud. The same facial expressions and gestures. That's really scary. "I do not!" It had cost him a lot of persuasion (was it just him, or was it actually harder to convince others these days? These kids had been persistent for a long time) to talk them into playing board games. But in the end he had been successful.
By now he was very good with them. They had eaten homemade hamburgers for lunch and afterwards washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. After that they had moved into the living room and had various games spread around them on the floor.
"Of course you do!" With his index finger Jeremy pointed at the Parcheesi game in front of them on the coffee table. "You reversed the hat!"
Neal turned to Amy, who sat beside him on the couch and winked at her. "Did you see anything?" The more time they had spent together, the more the little girl became less reserved. Amy participated actively. Neal had charmed her quickly and was now - of course - taking advantage of it.
She grinned back and shook her head vehemently. Her two braids swirled in the air. "Nope."
The boy was good, so much Neal had to admit. Jeremy was bright and a quick learner. And had eager eyes. It wasn't as if he intentionally cheated, though, yeah, he had intentionally cheated. But just because Jeremy had only agreed to the board games if he had the right to determine the next game for the Wii in case he won the Parcheesi game. And Neal wasn't in the mood for shooting games. Now his goal was to buy time until Peter and the others would return. "Okay, let's start all over again then."
...
Mahogany Grill
2 pm
After they had placed their orders, the three enjoyed the pleasant afternoon sun at one of the tables that were set outside of the restaurant. As he sipped his beer, Peter's cell phone rang. "Hey, Hon," he greeted his wife after he had seen the caller-ID and smiled.
"Hi, Hon. Any news from Bill?"
"We just visited him," Peter answered. "He's still a bit messed up, but as far as I can tell, he's doing fine considering the circumstances. His attending physician is confident that he's back on his feet, soon."
"That is wonderful news. Please say hello to Lucy."
"Oh, she's here with me. We're in town for lunch. Would you like to talk to her?"
"I'd love to. It's 11 am here and I'm having lunch with my client later on. We’ll talk later tonight?"
"Sounds good to me. I wish you a nice day, Hon."
"The same to you, Hon. Later!"
Peter handed his cell phone to Lucy.
Robert took the opportunity and slid closer to his brother. "And what do you think of Dad?"
"What do you mean?" Peter asked the counter question.
"Well, the thing with the murder Dad talked about?"
"You've heard the doctor. Hallucinations caused by the drugs. Figment of the imagination. That's all." Peter leaned back on his chair and looked at Robert. "And besides, you said yourself that the Gordons have moved out."
"So that means you'll do nothing?"
Peter knew what Robert was up to. "You mean, because I've said I would take a look?"
The waiter brought the chopped Mediterranean salad for Lucy as well as the honeysuckle roast beef sandwich for Robert and the char-grilled 8oz Black Angus burger for Peter.
Robert nodded. "Yeah."
"Sure, I can take a look and ask the neighbors," Peter answered, rubbing his hands in anticipation at the sight of the burger. With relish he took a bite and chewed on it with closed eyes. 8oz of pure Black Angus meat. Hallelujah! Fortunately Elizabeth was on the other side of the country, because she would reproachfully give him a stern look. After he had swallowed, he said, "But you shouldn't have great expectations, though."
...
At the Burkes
4.30 pm
When Lucy, Robert and Peter got out of the car, Peter paused and eyed the property vigilantly. It was almost disturbing that Neal hadn't called. His gut feeling told him to be alert. "I don't want to know what the three of them got up to," he muttered under his breath.
Robert turned around. "Come again?"
"Oh, I, uh, I was just thinking out loud."
Lucy had opened the front door and waved them into the house.
The closer they got to the living room, the more they could hear music and laughter. Peter raised an eyebrow and stopped. A grin appeared on his face. The music didn't come out of the stereo, but from the TV. But much more interesting was the fact that in that very moment two totally psyched laughing children and a grown up looking man were moving to the song "Hot stuff" from Donna Summer and didn't take their eyes from the screen. Thus, they didn't notice that they were being watched.
"What's that?" Peter asked, his brow still furrowed.
"Oh, that's one of those karaoke games. The difference is, you don't sing, but dance to whatever's on the screen. The PlayStation has kind of a motion sensor and in the end the one who danced best wins," Robert explained grinning. "Pam and I have to do it from time to time." He watched the three and added, "Your boy isn't that bad at all."
"My...what?" Peter nudged Robert and looked at Neal. He nodded approvingly when he answered, "Yeah, you're right."
The song ended and Neal suddenly seemed to sense that someone else was in the room. He turned around, still gasping for air and put the remote on the table. "Oh, you're back?" He stopped and corrected his question. "How long have you been here?"
"Long enough to admire your dance routine, Travolta," Peter smiled and was glad that Neal had been the one to participate, for he himself would have failed miserably. He was sure he would have only earned scorn and ridicule from Jeremy and Amy for his dance moves.
Still slightly out of breath, Neal quickly adjusted his tie that had loosened during the dancing. "How is your husband? If you don't mind the question."
Lucy seemed pleased. "His condition remains stable and we are all happy about it. The doctor said that he has already made progress." She turned towards Peter. "Such a nice young man. I mean, for a convicted felon he's very gallant."
"Oh, sure. Because of this, he's also under constant surveillance," Peter pointed out flatly. "He can sell light switches to the Amish if he needs to." Of course he hadn't missed the fact that Neal had succeed to wrap another woman round his little finger.
"Don't worry. Everything's still here," Neal replied calmly. Apparently he had expected such a response from Peter. "I didn't leave the house."
"It would be wise," Peter murmured. He knew his friend well enough to read between the lines. The 'I didn't leave the house' could also mean that Neal had inspected the whole house. But to cause no trouble, Peter kept this for himself. And somehow his gut feeling told him that Neal had told the truth and hadn't done anything wrong.
"And? What have you been doing?" Robert asked his children. "Aside from playing Wii?"
"Neal made us hamburgers!" Amy told with shining eyes.
"Yeah, yummy!" Jeremy agreed.
"Really?" Robert seemed to have accepted the situation, but was still distant to Neal.
"I hope you don't mind. But I didn't want to call the delivery service and the kids meant that you had bought the stuff for the picnic yesterday and I-," Neal spoke up, sounding uncertain.
"Oh, don't worry about it," Lucy shook her head.
"And after that we've played a lot of games," Amy grinned.
"Neal cheated," Jeremy interrupted her. "I've seen it!"
Peter looked at Neal and raised an eyebrow.
Grinning broadly, Neal put his hands in his pockets, shrugged and bobbed slightly up and down while he had his 'Who? Me?' expression on his face.
Robert's expressions though, spoke volumes. He cleared his throat. "Okay, kiddos. Grab your things, we're going home." The school had reversed the quarantine after the suspected virus hadn't been confirmed.
"But we're not even finished!" Amy interjected and looked at her father with big pleading eyes. "Just one more song. Please!"
"No, I have to go back to the office. I'll drop you off at home," Robert insisted.
Jeremy supported his little sister. "But Dad! Just one more song!
"Before this degenerates into an argument," Neal suggested, "and in order to shorten the whole thing, I would say one more song couldn't hurt. That's...what...3 to 4 minutes?" He looked at Robert. "I mean, unless you want to deal with two pouting children for the rest of the evening?"
Peter approached Robert. "Even though I hate to admit it, but Neal's proposal sounds good. It's only 3 to 4 minutes."
Jeremy and Amy were already dealing with the PlayStation and sought out a song. Amy came back after a few seconds and pressed something in Peter's hand. "You're in."
Peter looked baffled at his hand and recognized some kind of remote control. "Oh, no Amy. I'm not good at dancing."
Just like she had played with her father, the girl positioned himself in front of Peter. "Oh, c'mon!"
"Peter," Neal said, beaming. "You said it yourself. It's only 3 to 4 minutes. Or do you want to apply as a coward?"
Even though Peter knew that Neal had said that on purpose to challenge him, he finally agreed. His ambition was aroused. "You call me a coward?" He asked, pointing to Neal. "Well then, brace yourself." Determined, he rolled up his shirt sleeves. After all, he had taken a salsa course with El and had danced tango with the woman who became known as the Black Widow. What could go wrong then?
Amy and Jeremy found the thought of dancing with the adults very amusing and after a last glance back over his shoulder pushed the start button. It was obvious that they knew the songs and moves by heart.
Neal also seemed very composed and concentrated for a moment as the first bars of Ke$ha's "TikTok" rang out. Then he began to follow the shown choreography.
Peter, however, swallowed hard. What the hell kind of music was that?! This wasn't the kind of music he was used to, but he couldn't back down now, because he didn't want to be a spoilsport either.
Chapter 7
After the longest four minutes of his life, lots of laughter from Amy and Jeremy and some applause from the two spectators, Peter was more than relieved when the children collected the remotes, still giggling. It hadn't surprised him that Neal had shown the best performance from all. However, he was also aware that from now on Neal would tease him because of his dance interlude. Still out of breath, he looked at his brother and mother who seemed very amused. After all, Peter was very grateful that nobody had videotaped this session.
A short time later, after Robert had gone home with the children, Peter and Neal gathered around the kitchen table where Lucy served them lemonade. "I'm going to call Aunt Rachel," she said and left the room. "She's waiting for updates."
"How's your dad?" Neal wanted to know after they were the only two left.
Peter drew in a deep breath. "Better." But to be honest, he was still a bit shocked about the sight of his father earlier. He hadn't seen him this weak and fragile before. With one hand he rubbed his face, because he could feel the exhaustion overpower him slowly.
"I don't know him, but I know you. And I think, no, I'm convinced that if you both have something in common, then William is tough and will fight back," Neal said softly.
Peter looked at his friend and smiled. "Yeah, I think so, too." Since his mother wasn't here, he could speak freely. "Although I must admit that he's quite shaken and I've never seen him like that before. And he acted strange, you know. Babbling nonsense, that kind of stuff."
"Nonsense?" Neal raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
"He's convinced he witnessed a murder." Peter pointed to the window. "On the neighboring property. Only moments before he suffered the heart attack."
"A murder? Oh, that's...," Neal searched for the right words, "...no idea. Unusual." He immediately stood up and walked to the window to look outside.
Peter shook his head. "His physician said it isn't unusual since the drugs may cause hallucinations."
"But you don't think so?" Neal asked and still looked outside.
"Dad was so upset that I promised him to take look to calm him down."
Neal came back to the table and took a sip before he answered, "So, what are you waiting for? Let's take a look."
Of course Peter didn't miss that Neal was very eager to get into action, so he tried to counteract. "I think that would lead to nothing. Robert told me that the house has been sold. The new owner is here only sporadically."
"Judged by the sight of the garden, that seems to be true. But you know that appearances can be deceiving."
And with that Neal had hit the nail on the head. Now Peter was really unsure what to do, because on the one hand he was curious. On the other hand, everything was more than implausible. And he wasn't eager to make a fool of himself. "I don't know, Neal."
"What of it! It's not like we would break in." Like to be expected, Neal was very impressed by his idea. "It would be more like we're reaching in."
"Don't you dare!"
"What shouldn't he dare, Peter?"
Surprised to hear his mother's voice, Peter turned around. "Oh, nothing Mom." Silently he exchanged a glance with Neal and cleared his throat. He secretly hoped that Neal would take the hint.
Lucy seemed not fully convinced, but she didn't comment any further in this regard. "Aunt Rachel is coming over tomorrow and will join us when we go visit Bill. I'll be baking cheesecake. He likes it so much, just like you." Then she began to prepare and got the utensils out of the cupboards. "Do you want some more lemonade?"
"No, thanks Mrs. Burke. I should better be going," Neal said, standing up. "It was a pleasure to meet you."
Lucy smiled fondly. "My pleasure."
"Please tell your husband my get well wishes."
"Thank you, I'll do that."
Relieved, that Neal played along, Peter stood up and couldn't help but grin because he could see that his mother was quite taken by Neal. Although this was to be expected. "Any plans for the evening?" He wanted to know from Neal and made a gesture to his friend to follow him.
"I haven't planned on something," Neal said while he followed Peter. "But if I meet Rick again, I’ll make sure to go to bed way earlier."
"How did you get to know each other at all?" He remembered that he had forgotten to call Jones in regards of Rick Castle. But for now he would listen to Neal's version first and then he still could decide whether to call his colleague or not. They walked slowly towards the front door.
"Oh, that's a long story," Neal waved his hand. "And totally boring anyway."
Peter didn't let go. "Why don't you let me decide whether your story is entertaining or not. And now I want to hear facts."
Neal looked at him, frowning, before he said, "You don't trust him, do you?"
"I'm always suspicious when it comes to your friends."
"Thank you very much."
Peter smirked. "After all, he looks more trustworthy than Mozzie."
"Rick is an upstanding citizen," Neal defended his friend. "He's a very successful writer who also works with NYPD. You can check that." Only a second later, Neal added, "You already did, didn't you?"
"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Peter replied with a shrug and an innocent expression that not even Neal could have done better.
"But you wanted to, admit it!"
"Yes, that's right. But I haven't had the opportunity to." There was no point in trying to tell Neal something else. Therefore they both knew each other too well. "And I'll do it, depending on how credible your story is."
There was a brief pause in which Neal played with his tie. "Basically, we met each other by chance," he started. "About ten years ago, he held a lecture from one of his new novels and I was in the bookstore because I'd searched for a special book for...Kate...Rick's lecture was quite interesting and I talked to him afterwards, pointing out some errors in his account of one of his fictional characters. After that, we couldn't stay in contact, for reasons you may know."
"You were on the run some time later," Peter nodded. "And in prison after that."
"Exactly. Later on, we met by chance once more. Rick has participated in a program in order to get inmates interested in literature. Back then I was working at the library." Again, he paused for a moment. They had reached the door. "He was obviously very surprised to see me inside that...facility, but he talked to me without any prejudgment and thanked me for the advice I'd given him at our first meeting. We talked for hours. And in the end...he created a new character based on my facts." Neal was grinning broadly.
"Why am I not surprised?" Peter sighed.
Without going into Peter's comment, Neal said, "We started to write letters about - alleged - art thefts and things like that, you know. Rick takes his work very seriously, even if his attitude says otherwise."
"By now he has improved the kind of audience. From prison inmates to college students," Peter commented dryly.
"Probably because the proportion of women in college is much higher than in jail." Suddenly Neal began to laugh. "Warden Haskley wasn't very pleased with my pen pal I think. But there was nothing he could do against it."
"And even if he could have done something, you would have found a way to stay in contact. You love the challenge."
"Just like you."
Peter took the car keys from the wardrobe in the hallway. "I'll drive you back to the hotel. Thank you for taking care of the children."
"I can call a cab," Neal suggested, before he nodded, "No problem. Though, I guess that you just wanted to make sure I stayed out of trouble."
"My plan worked, right?" Peter grinned.
Suddenly they heard Lucy's voice from the kitchen. "Peter?"
"Yeah?"
"I need your help. The cat is on the tree. Again," she said with a sigh as she approached the two men.
After a glance towards Neal, Peter said, "Where's the ladder?"
"Robert has put it back into the garage."
Peter said to Neal, "You're a good climber. Wasn't there a theft of two Van Gogh's back in 2002?"
"You mean the business in Amsterdam?"
"Yes."
"Where the thief got access to the roof with a long ladder?"
"Right."
"And then roped down next to the main entrance?"
"Exactly."
Neal smiled mischievously. "I've heard of it."
"Only heard of it? Then why can I remember reading your name in one of the files? I thought you were involved?"
"Allegedly."
...
The more Peter tried to get hold of the cat, the higher the animal climbed to the top. He had made the first attempt to rescue Buddha. However, he hadn't expected the perseverance of the cat. At the end of his patience, Peter muttered, "And if I have to cut tree to the ground by myself...the tomcat must come down."
Neal had his arms crossed and surveyed the scene. "I don't think your mother would agree to that."
Peter was still standing on the ladder and looked at the cat. I could swear he laughs at me. "Oh, thanks. Any other ideas, Einstein?"
"Maybe we should just wait until it will be regulated by nature," Neal suggested. "At some point the branches get too thin. As thick as Buddha is, he can't get up any higher. It's only a matter of time until one branch can't resist any longer. At the end, gravity always wins."
"You're mean," Peter said with a wry smile, because secretly he had thought the same. The difference was, he hadn't said it - in contrast to Neal - not out loud.
"No, just honest."
Peter took a deep breath and got down the ladder. "Here," he said to Neal and offered him a candy bar. "Comfort food." If he had a weakness, then his preference for this type of candy (and no, he hadn't looked for it...he had found it in the kitchen cabinet quite by accident of course). He just had to be careful with the food because he was sure he gained a few pounds by the time he would be back to Brooklyn. Still, he couldn't resist the temptations. At the thought of freshly baked cheesecake he got a watery mouth. "Although this is no comparison to Mom's cake of course. But all in all it's better than nothing."
With a skillful gesture Neal caught the candy bar and nodded. "Thanks." They sat down on the ground, with their backs on the trunk. "How is she by the way? She seems to cope well with the situation."
"Well, yes, you should have seen her yesterday evening. Back then she was devastated."
"It's only fair," Neal said and remained silent for a moment. "I think it was a good thing to come home. It certainly was a shock for her. And she needs someone she can mother hen."
"Above all, she's not used to being alone. Mom and Dad are together for over 50 years." And once again he was amazed how well Neal was able to read people. "You know, I can't stop thinking of the murder," Peter tried to change the subject as he chewed. "I don't know what to do."
"Well," Neal shrugged, "my suggestion is indeed fallen on deaf ears."
With a frown, Peter turned around. "Your suggestion included to break into the house."
"I would never do that."
"Of course not," Peter interjected without hesitation. "You'd find another way, but the end result would be the same. If anything, we'll talk to the neighbors."
Unnoticed by both, Buddha had meandered down the branch (a bit clumsy but nevertheless) and sat contentedly on the top ladder step. The rustling of the bar wrapper had sounded quite tempting for him and he meowed to the two strange men who apparently represented the source of the rustling. Surprised by the noise, both looked up.
"Look, who lives up to his name," Neal laughed and pointed to the cat.
"Why?"
"Buddha means 'the awakened one' and I think it's safe to say that he's indeed very much alive," Neal explained and carefully stood up. "Are you hungry?" He spoke to the animal with a soft voice and approached him slowly.
Buddha didn't seem to expect something bad to happen and stretched slightly forward to sniff.
Neal continued to climb up the ladder step by step. "Here we go. Look at you. You seem curious, huh?" Rubbing the foil with his fingers, Neal closed the distance between them. "Isn't that beautiful? Yeah, something very beautiful, right?"
Peter still was skeptical, but assisted Neal by also standing up and moving slowly in the direction of the ladder. "Oh great, now he even flirts with cats," he rolled his eyes. "Hey, Dr. Doolittle, grab him and that's it."
Totally absorbed by his task, Neal didn't reply. He rose another step and the success was within his reach. Slowly he played with the foil in front of Buddha and got the cat's attention. With his right hand he grabbed Buddha by the neck before the cat could react. Startled by this action, the cat tried to escape. Neal let go of the foil and lifted the cat with his left hand. "For heaven's sake! He's really as heavy as he looks like," he exclaimed amazed as he stood freehand on the ladder.
"Yeah!" Peter triumphed and raised his fist in the air. "Mission accomplished!"
"Hey, watch out! You're scaring him," Neal warned, but it was too late. Alarmed by Peter's loud voice, the cat tried to wriggle itself out of Neal's grip. Using its claws and snarling dangerously, Buddha was fiercely trying to get free. As quickly as possible Neal tried to come down the ladder. Then he let go of the cat, who ran off in the direction of the cat flap and disappeared into the house.
"You alright?" Peter asked as he saw that Neal had suffered some bloody scrapes on his hand. "I'm sorry."
Eyeing his injuries, Neal muttered, "His physical appearance is deceiving. He's devious."
"Well, if you ask me, I would have cut down the tree," Peter whistled through his teeth.
"I would have been curious of your confession after your mother demanded an explanation."
"We would have come up with something clever, but the subject doesn't matter anymore," Peter said and brought the ladder back to the garage.
"I admit, I would have liked to see you using the chainsaw," Neal reconsidered, sounding a little bit disappointed.
In order to cheer Neal a bit up, Peter patted him on the shoulder and handed him a handkerchief. "At least, we've done a good deed today!"
...
Once in the house, they were happily greeted by Lucy. "I see you've actually got him down the tree. Thank you!"
"Neal has been injured by Buddha. Do you have some disinfectant spray?" Peter asked.
"Oh no!" Lucy exclaimed worried and held her hands over her mouth. "I'm very sorry. Come with me so I can take a look at it."
"Don't worry, Mrs. Burke. There are just some scratches." Neal didn't want to cause any unnecessary circumstances. But before he knew it, Lucy had grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him down the hall. "Really...it's nothing serious!"
"Poppycock! It'll take only a few seconds."
With a glance back over his shoulder, Neal could see that Peter was grinning while he waved at them. "I'll wait in the kitchen."
During his criminal career he had had to deal repeatedly with minor injuries, only topped with the bullet wound in his thigh which he counted as a more serious one. But the four scratches on his left hand and the palm weren't really worth mentioning. Unfortunately Lucy was already in full mother hen mode. She was determined to make sure he wouldn't bleed to death, so it seemed. He wasn't used to such attention and felt a little uncomfortable. Just because he didn't want appear to be rude, he didn't resist following her into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat after she gently pressed him down.
Lucy went to the cupboard and pulled out a first aid kit, which she sat on the edge of the sink. Then she grabbed a washcloth, damped it and started to dab away the blood from Neal's hand. "I'm really sorry, Mr. Caffrey," she said as she gently took care of the wounds.
"No harm done, Mrs. Bu-"
"Lucy," she offered and looked at him briefly.
"Lucy," he repeated and nodded, "Neal."
"These are two really deep scratches," she said softly as she examined both sides of Neal's hand and grabbed a tube of ointment. "I think I'll make a bandage that stays on overnight, so that the ointment is more effective."
"Really that's not necessary." So much attention to his person was unusual for Neal, yet it brought back old memories. Memories of how Ellen had taken care of him when he had come home again with abrasions or contusions after he had played with older boys in St. Louis. The city had been like a giant playground for them and there had been no limits (not to them anyway). Much to the chagrin of Ellen, who had repeatedly pulled him by the ears. A sad smile appeared on his face. One day he had injured his leg on a piece of rusty wire mesh fence when he and a few of his buddies had rummaged around a junkyard. For fear of getting into trouble because of the torn pants, he had tucked them away (yes, early on he already had unconsciously been working on his criminal career by finding perfect hiding places). For exactly one week he had been successful with keeping the incident a secret. Then he got very sick because the wound on his leg got inflamed. The result had been a stay at the hospital to get his fever down. Besides that, he almost had died of homesickness. During his stay there he had nearly perfected his talent to sneak unnoticed out of his hospital room. Almost. Ellen had found him within an hour on the street waiting on a bus stop.
"Neal?"
Startled by Lucy's voice, he was brought back to reality. He blinked a few times. "Hmm?"
"You seemed...away. Are you okay?" She secured a band aid on the end of the bandage around his hand.
"Um yes," Neal said and cleared his throat when he eyed the bandage. "It's not the first time you're doing this, is it?"
"Oh my goodness, no." She laughed infectiously. "With two sons who had always been very active in sports and a husband who worked on construction sites, I became a very good nurse." Once again, she looked at him questioningly. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine. I was...I was just thinking of something that happened to me as a child." Although he had met Lucy just recently, he felt confident enough in her presence to be honest to her. "I was quite a handful as a child."
"I bet you were. You've got that look. Your mother certainly must have been delighted."
Neal's face darkened slightly as he thought of his mother. "Not quite. My aunt raised me. Mom was-" He stopped and shook his head. "Never mind. Thank you for your help." He raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. "It's much better." Then he stood up. "I think I'll go back to Peter." On the way back he noticed a wall full of pictures. Neal paused and had to suppress a laugh when he saw a few portraits of Peter as a child. Before they would head back to New York, he had to snap a few pictures of it with his cell phone. His colleagues would freak out by the sight of this. In particular, one image of Peter showed him sitting on the lawn, eating ice cream. He couldn't be older than 12 months. Then there were two pictures of him in typical baseball outfit. Neal guessed him about 5 or 6 years old. On one pic he stood with the baseball bat in hand, ready to swing it at the ball. On the other, he just knelt and smiled broadly into the camera.
As Neal entered the kitchen, Peter was standing near the window and talking on the cell phone.
"Right...and that's all? Hmm, okay. If something comes up, please contact me. Thanks, Jones."
Neal stood beside him and waited.
"I see that Mom couldn't resist," Peter laughed and pointed to the bandaged hand. After he put away the phone, he said, "According to Jones, there are no reports from the police and the current owner has no criminal record or is somehow conspicuous otherwise."
"That doesn't mean a thing. Even though he hasn't been reported so far, doesn't mean at all that he has a clean slate. It just means he's good at keeping his criminal activities unnoticed." After he saw Peter's questioning look, Neal quickly added, "So I've heard."
"Sure you have."
"And now?"
"Let's settle this issue," Peter answered and seemed more confident. "I'll drive you back to the hotel."
"Don't you want to stay for a while, Neal?" Lucy asked who had just entered the kitchen. "I can make sandwiches. We still have some left over tuna salad. Do you like tuna salad Neal?"
Peter's mother apparently had a crush on him. Silently he exchanged looks with him and then shrugged. "How could I turn down such a kind invitation?" If he was doing this skillfully, he would be able to learn something from Peter's childhood this evening. And the best part of all was that Peter couldn't do much about it.
Smiling, Lucy pointed to one direction. "Why don't you sit on the terrace? It's still beautiful weather outside."
...
It didn't take long for Lucy to come back with a tray full of dishes and glasses. She didn't accept Neal's offer to help and disappeared in the house again.
Neal just smirked.
"What's up?" Peter wanted to know, and felt like he missed the forest for the trees.
"Your mother desperately needs someone she can mother hen," Neal commented and took a sip.
A short time later the cat joined them, but stopped immediately as it realized who sat on the terrace.
His reaction didn't go unnoticed by Neal. "Hi, Sid," he greeted the cat, but got no response. "I guess he doesn't like me. Yet I haven't done anything to him. Quite the contrary," he said and didn't let the cat out of his sight. Referring to his battered left hand, he mumbled, "I'm the victim."
Lucy had brought some sandwiches and looked at Neal and Buddha. "I don't think it has to do with the rescue. Buddha is always a bit shy at the beginning when it comes to strangers. Besides, he can't show any reaction when you call him by a false name."
"Speaking of," Peter cut in, and was either way surprised that his parents owned a cat, "why is he called Buddha at all? I mean, it is a rather unusual name for a cat."
"His name has nothing to do with his physique," Lucy answered. "Even though one thinks that may be the reason. But rather the fact that he always sleeps near the stone Buddha in the garden. Actually he was a stray. He popped up one day and he seems to like it here. At least he's been here for two years now." She gave Neal a bowl for the salad. "You've made me curious, though. Why did you call him Sid?"
Neal smiled. "The real name for the man we call Buddha is Siddhartha Gautama. Buddha is actually a title for someone who has experienced an epiphany. Hence the name Buddha means "the awakened one" or "enlightened" in Sanskrit. It's important to point out that the enlightenment has to be done on our own."
Peter wasn't surprise to such things from Neal. The former con man was well educated and a man of vast reading. It was a shame that Neal had used his intelligence for the wrong reasons and wrong side of the law. At the moment however, Peter wasn't sure if Neal's basic knowledge about Buddhism would ever be helpful in a case. He just hoped that it hadn't already found application.
As if on cue, Neal shrugged innocently and grinned, "That's what I've once read on one of those large picture calendars."
...
After the dinner, Lucy and Neal were cleaning the dishes while Peter had gone to the bathroom. Neal stood beside her and chatted with her lively.
"Seems like yesterday to me...," she laughed and gave Neal a plate to dry.
In the corner of his eyes, Neal saw Peter standing in the doorway. "Hey, we just revel in memories from you."
"Oh no," Peter rolled his eyes, looked at his mother and shook his head. "How can you do this to me?"
"Oh yes," Neal grinned, sounding dead serious. "I'm convinced that the story of your Nobel Prize worthy discovery will be discussed generations after you."
"Which of my many strokes of genius do you mean?"
"The one in which you have created this wonderful green fog that wobbled through the house."
"Oh," Peter murmured, wondering briefly. "Now, that happened ages ago."
"Could be. But it's interesting to learn this new side from you. Never expected you to work in the field of natural science."
Peter shrugged with his shoulders indifferently. Neal played on the fact that he had run experiments in the basement with his chemistry set at the tender age of 8. Actually, he had wanted to create blue crystals of copper sulfate, but it had been a flop. Instead, he had unintentionally produced green mist. "Yes, I did. For exactly one week. After the incident I turned to mathematics and sports." When he saw the wide grin of Neal, he grimaced. "Oh, great. I'll get to hear this again and again from now on, am I right?"
"Only from time to time," Neal played down the issue, shrugging with his shoulders.
"I'll take you back to the hotel now."
To be continued...