STORY: Try To Remember - Chapter 3 (Sara, Peter, Neal, Diana)
Notes: Special Guest Appearance by Penelope Garcia, the Tech Analyst of the BAU (from "Criminal Minds") What Peter says about her voluntary work is CM-canon, it even was the key subject in one episode.
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Unknown location
“Rise and shine, Caffrey!”
Neal jerked awake and rolled his shoulders. But when your hands and arms are as restricted as his were, getting the kinks out of the joints and muscles quickly turned into an almost impossible task. He saw one of his captors approaching the cage. While he spent most of the time in this prison, Neal was taken out for certain times. Whoever had kidnapped him gave him bread and water, let him use the toilet right around the corner of the “cage room”. And they brought him for some hours every day to yet another room, where they forced him to create a wide range of forged documents. Try as he might, Neal couldn’t remember all the details on them. But maybe that was more due to the constant presence of a gun barrel in his neck than to his loss of orientation and time or anything else.
After getting his “daily dose of humanity”, as Neal dubbed his morning stint in the bathroom, he was led to the forging room. The other kidnapper was standing at the small end of the room, and judging by his body language, he wasn’t happy at all. Before Neal had a chance to react, the man walked into his personal space and backhanded him across the face. The effect left him reeling, and so Neal wasn’t at least prepared for the man grabbing him by the hair and yanking his head up to eye-level.
“You knew it!”
“Knew what?”
If anything, they didn’t succeed in breaking the stubborn streak in Neal. Knowing that they probably will kill him anyway, as soon as his work was done, he decided early into his imprisonment that he wouldn’t go down without a fight.
“That they would find her.” Deep down, Neal let out a whoop of joy. Sara was safe, and probably helping NYPD and FBI in locating him right now. “You knew that when you convinced us of dumping her there!”
Once again, the man punched him, this time in the gut, but Neal couldn’t care less about it. He knew that, sooner or later, the life of a criminal would get the better of him. He only hoped that Peter, Elizabeth and all the other people he had come to love and consider his family were safe too.
“And if I did?” Neal challenged the man.
“She’s in the hospital now, and I saw Burke walking into the same hospital. Wanna guess what he’s doing there?”
Neal didn’t answer. Instead, he opted for sitting down at the table, and without being told to do so, picked up the tools to create yet another false document. He only had to hold on for some more time. Peter and his team were on the way, and that was the only thing that kept Neal going.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Trinity Hospital
Sara’s room
When she woke, Sara was somehow glad that the night was over. Despite of what she had let on to the night nurses, her sleep was far from restful. Quite contrary, the images she had seen the better part of yesterday came back to her, and she was more and more convinced that the man with the wonderful blue eyes was (a) more than just a colleague or an acquaintance to her and (b) that he was somehow linked to her being in the hospital.
A young nurse - “Ellie” according to her name tag - came in and told Sara that they would have to change the linens on her bed. Not having enough faith in her legs to hold her up, Sara opted for the wheelchair, if only for the short distances to the bathroom and the table. Ellie and another nurse made quick work of the bed, then the second nurse brought some breakfast, while Ellie offered Sara to help her if she wanted to take a shower afterwards.
A few hours later, Peter came by, this time accompanied by a young Afro-American man and an exuberant blonde woman. The two newcomers stopped at some distance to her bed, while Peter came closer and put a small brown bag right in front of her.
“What’s that?”
“Have a look.” Sara did as told, and revealed a small box sitting inside the bag, emitting an incredible delicious smell. She looked up to see all three of her visitors smiling. “A little treat, with best wishes from my wife.”
“Your wife can cook?”
From the corner of her eyes, Sara saw the new faces smiling at each other; apparently her expression was one from the funnier pages.
“Yeah, and she also knows the best places to get everything she can’t or doesn’t have the time to make on her own.”
While listening to Peter, Sara noticed the logo on the side of the bag. “The Greatest Cake” was written across the lower part, in a somewhat old-fashioned way, and somehow Sara knew that this shop was familiar to her too. But once again, she came up with nothing.
“So, how was your night?”
Peter’s question brought her out of her reverie, and she leaned closer to him, as if she didn’t want anyone to hear what she had to say.
“Not quite as good as I let on to the night nurses.” Peter’s answer was a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t want them all to worry about me. And I absolutely didn’t want the room crowded at night.”
Peter nodded, understanding that she didn’t want to be fussed about all the time. Especially when her brain was in the lengthy process of restoring itself.
“But you got some sleep, right?”
“Yeah, but it was interrupted by the images I saw in the afternoon.” Sara only saw now that Peter was holding a file in his hands. “And I feel that the man with the blue eyes is somewhat linked to me being here.”
Once again, Peter nodded, before motioning the two new faces over to her bed.
“Sara, I would like you to meet Agent Clinton Jones,” he indicated the young man, who shook Sara’s hand, “and a good friend of his, Ms. Penelope Garcia.” The woman also shook Sara’s hand.
“Next to her work as a technical analyst with the FBI in Quantico, Penelope does a lot of voluntary work with victims of crimes and their families. She knows some techniques that might help your brain.”
“What kind of techniques?”
Sara didn’t want to appear suspicious, but she absolutely had no idea of what this woman could do to help her.
“Nothing too fancy, pumpkin.” Penelope sat down on Sara’s left side, grabbing her hand. “Just some breathing techniques that help you focus. You know, the memories are still in there,” she touched the side of her own head, “but unfortunately, there’s a lot of rubble covering them. With the techniques I’m going to teach you, we might stand a chance to unbury them without causing your brain, which is still healing, too much trouble.”
“So Sara, what do you say? Worth giving it a try?”
Unnoticed to her, Dr. Grant had come into the room as well and was now standing next to Jones.
“I had a talk with Penelope before she came in here, and from my professional point of view I completely agree with these techniques.”
“So, no risk of overwhelming her at all?” Peter asked, her reaction to the images yesterday still fresh in his mind.
“Sure, there is a small percentage of it happening again, but that’s the general nature of amnesia. No matter how severe it is, most patients link the restoration of their memories with a sense of overwhelming.” He looked around the room and was met with four somewhat confused expressions. “You see, memories don’t restore themselves one by one. They usually come back in waves, and like the ones we know from the beach, these waves can knock us out of balance.”
As if on command, four pairs of eyes focused on Sara, waiting for her to decide.
“Well, I guess it can’t get any worse than it is already.” She looked from Dr. Grant to Penelope. “Okay, let’s give it a try.”
Seconds later, Dr. Grant was out of the room again, leaving them to their own devices. Sara saw Jones retrieving a large bag by the door (which she only noticed right now) and carrying it over to the small table. To Sara’s surprise, the content consisted of several large candles, as well as some scented sticks, a large plaid and some cushions. Sensing Sara’s growing curiosity, Penelope turned around.
“We need to create a different atmosphere in here. If we keep it the way it is now, we won’t get anywhere.” She got closer to Sara, still a broad smile on her face. “You know, hospital rooms are not very helpful when it comes to relaxing.” Penelope winked at her, and before Sara knew it, the bubbly blonde was back at Jones’ side.
“Sara?”
She was watching Jones and Garcia so intently that Peter’s voice registered in her mind with some delay.
“Oh.” Peter answered with a small smile. “Something wrong, Peter?”
“No, not at all. I just wanted to let you know that you will be alone with Jones and Penelope for some time. I have to follow a lead.”
“And this lead has something to do with me?” It came out as a question, but Sara intended it to sound more like a statement.
“Probably.”
She gestured at the door.
“Well, then by all means. Go and catch the bad guys.”
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Peter was barely outside the main entrance of the hospital when his phone rang. Seeing the name of his wife flashing across the screen, he only could wonder as to why Elizabeth was ringing him now.
“Hon, what’s up?”
“Hey, Hon, would it be too much for you to come back home?”
“El, is everything alright?”
“Yeah.” He heard some background noise, but that definitely didn’t sound like Satchmo. “Mozzie is here. He just got back from Detroit, and he is absolutely devastated. I don’t know why, but somehow he thinks that Neal got kidnapped because of him.”
“What?” Peter shook his head. Once again, the short guy managed to surprise him.
“Yeah, it’s crazy to even think about it, but you know Mozzie. Once he got something on his mind, it’s hard to detour him.” Once again, background noise was heard, this time the teapot. “Anyway, he said as soon as he heard about Neal’s disappearance, he contacted someone who might get information you and your team won’t get.”
“Did he say who he contacted?” Peter had a hunch, his mind wandering back to a case he and Neal solved several months ago.
“No, and he won’t say the name to anyone else than you.”
Peter looked at his wristwatch. Right before he came to the hospital, Diana called him and told him that they finally got the track data from Neal’s anklet. And while a part of him was more than a bit anxious to have a look at them, the better part didn’t want to have to look after Mozzie too, in case the man tried anything stupid to spring Neal free.
“Alright, I swing by. But tell him that I will arrest him if he just wants to spin yet another conspiracy theory.”
“Don’t worry, Hon. I think conspiracy theories are not exactly at the front of his mind right now.” She made a pause. “We both know that Neal and Mozzie are very talented actors if they needed to be, but Moz’s really worried about Neal.”
And that was something that Peter absolutely could relate to. Not long ago, Keller had kidnapped Elizabeth, causing the rift between Peter and Neal to deepen even further.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Burke Residence
DeKalb Avenue, Brooklyn
When Peter Burke pulled up to his house some time later, his worry about Neal’s welfare had more and more turned into fear. During the drive from Trinity Hospital to Brooklyn, Diana had called him again, telling him that something was afoot with the data from Neal’s tracking anklet. She already had one of the FBI technicians working on it, and had voiced her concern to Hughes, Bancroft and Roe, but until they had solid proof, they couldn’t do anything. Was it possible that one of the U.S. Marshals was part of the kidnapping, in whatever capacity?
Peter took a deep breath before entering his house. If anything, he didn’t want to raise the already high levels of worry in his wife. And if Mozzie got a whiff of his own fear for Neal… well, they definitely would go into uncharted waters.
“Hey, Hon!”
As on any other day, Elizabeth came from the general direction of the kitchen, welcoming him home with a kiss.
“Hey. Did I miss him?”
“No, he’s out in the back.”
Peter started to head out on the patio, only to be stopped by his wife.
“What?”
“(A) He’s not alone out there, and I’m not talking about Satchmo keeping him company.” Peter raised an eyebrow, urging Elizabeth to continue. “And (B): You have to tread very carefully, if you want to get anything out of him.” Again, her words were met with a raised eyebrow. “Hon, whenever you’re in ʻinvestigator’ mode, you tend to forget that witnesses and culprits are first and foremost human beings. You mean well and you want to get your answers as soon as possible, but you tend to turn into a caveman.” She met his eyes, her emotions running wild. “Sorry, Hon, but I had to tell you that.”
“It’s okay, Hon, you’re not the first one to mention it. Both Neal and Diana have pointed it out to me, but I chose to ignore it.” He pulled her close, planting a kiss on the top of her head before pulling back and catching her eyes with his. “You know what? We both have a talk to Mozzie and his friend, and you watch out for me and catch me before I go ʻcavemanʻ on them, okay?”
“Okay.”
They both stepped outside, and Peter was in for yet another surprise (though he somewhat was prepared for that one).
“Suit, nice of you to join us.” Mozzie stepped aside and revealed his companion. “I think you remember Sally.”
The woman waved at Peter. “Hi, Agent Burke.”
“I should have known that you kept contact with her.” Peter tried to sound exasperated, but deep down he was glad that Mozzie had kept her on speed dial, so to speak. “Well, you told my wife that you have some infos for me.”
Before Mozzie or Sally could answer, Elizabeth tapped Peter on the arm.
“Hon, let’s sit down first, okay?”
Which she did immediately, pulling him down with her on the two remaining chairs on the patio. Sally opened her messenger bag in the meantime, pulling her tablet out. With a few finger tips to the screen, she had the information she wanted to show Peter at the ready.
“Agent Burke, before I show you the information I found, let me ask you a question.” Peter nodded. “Do you trust the U.S. Marshals?”
“Of course he trusts them…” Mozzie started to rant, but Sally stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“Mozzie, I asked him. And if I remember correctly, he can speak for himself.”
“Thank you, Sally. To answer your question: I only trust them as far as I can see them, so to speak. We already had the misfortune to work with a corrupt Marshal, resulting in me being on the run.” Sally’s answer consisted only of a raised eyebrow, while both Elizabeth and Mozzie had a smile on their faces, remembering the case. “And it wasn’t as funny as those smiles,” Peter pointed from Mozzie to Elizabeth, “let on. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t more than one occasion of foul play with them.”
Sally turned the tablet around, holding it up for both Peter and Elizabeth to see the graphics on the screen.
“I have no idea what this should show us, but there’s definitely a difference between the one on the right and the one on the left side,” Elizabeth pointed out.
“Very good, Mrs. Suit,” Mozzie said with a smile. “Which doesn’t surprise me. You are a very perceptive woman, and you picked up a thing or two from your husband.”
Peter only heard the compliments for his wife with one ear. His mind was focused on the data on the screen, which he recognized as the tracking data from Neal’s anklet. And boy, there was something bigger going on, if the huge difference between the official and the real version was anything to go by.
“What do you think does that mean?” Sally’s question, paired with the worried stares of both El and Mozzie, brought Peter back to reality.
“I’m not sure, but I think we have a mole with the Marshals. Or one of them is part of Neal and Sara’s kidnapping.”
“Ms. Ellis has been kidnapped too?” Mozzie asked, incredulity prominent in his voice. Apparently, Elizabeth hadn’t told him about it.
“Yeah, but they dumped her in an alley.” Peter finally looked up from the screen to Neal’s best friend. “She’s at Trinity’s right now, trying to recover from amnesia.”
“Amnesia? So she can’t help us find Neal?” Mozzie’s voice now had an edge of defeat, and Peter was sure he hadn’t seen the short man so dejected before.
“She’s working hard on regaining her memories, so she might be helpful after all. The rest of us only can hope that she will manage that before Neal’s time run out.”
“If he’s still alive,” Mozzie huffed, before sinking back in his seat. “He was afraid that something like that might happen, sooner or later.”
“What?” Both Elizabeth and Peter asked, and on any other day, Mozzie might have smiled about the involuntary comic of the situation. But not today.
“Yeah. After the whole U-Boat loot disaster, he and I were sitting on his patio, sipping some wine, when all of a sudden he told me that he considered several people, including, you, Elizabeth, Sara, June and me, as his family. And that his biggest fear was that something was happening to any one of us.” He heaved a sigh. “At that time, I blamed it on the recent altercation we all had with Keller, but now I can’t help but think that Neal felt something bigger was about to happen.”
Elizabeth reached over the table, grabbing Mozzie’s hands with both of hers. “Moz, you have a lot of talents, but mind-reading is, thank God, not one of them. So how should you know better? Or know what Neal was exactly thinking while saying these words?”
“Yeah, but I know him better than he himself does at times. I should have been able to read between the lines.” Mozzie looked up from Elizabeth to Peter. “But part of me was still so angry at him for keeping me in the loop about the freight list that it blocked everything else.”
“Mozzie, there’s no use to cry over spilt milk, especially not now.” Peter tried to put every ounce of optimism into his words. He didn’t need the short man going straight into a depression. “Sally, I take it you have more data than just that.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.
“I do, Agent Burke, and while I’m willing to share them with selected FBI personnel, I will not tell you or any other agent how I got them in the first place.”
“I’m not asking you to do that…”
He didn’t get any further, since his mobile decided to interrupt him once again.
“Burke?”
“Agent Burke? Penelope Garcia is speaking.”
Peter pulled the phone away, chancing a second look on the display. The discrepancy between the name on the screen and the actual speaker sent his eyebrows skyrocketing.
“Penelope, why do you have Jones’ phone?”
“Burke, you better come back to Trinity. We have a big problem.”
Before he could say anything else, the bubbly blonde friend of Jones hung up on him. Peter noticed in her voice that something had happened in the short time since he left.
“Mozzie, you still have one of your safe houses?”
“You know that I have more than one.” Peter only sent him a challenging look. “But yes, one of them is available.”
“What’s wrong, Hon?” Elizabeth asked, worry lacing her voice.
“Something has happened at Trinity’s. I head back over there, while you get Satchmo and accompany Sally and Mozzie to his safe house. I bet it has something to do with the discrepancy in the data of Neal’s anklet.” Peter got up, ready to leave the house. “I can’t risk having any of you attacked.” He gave her a kiss on the head before looking over to Mozzie. “I count on you, Mozzie. Keep her safe. And get me more about the tracking data.”
“Suit, you can count on me,” Mozzie answered, and Peter was sure that the man never had sounded so sincere before.
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Coming soon: The team finally can nail down names for the culprits, Sara learns about her rocky relationship with Neal - and something is found in the Hudson.
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Unknown location
“Rise and shine, Caffrey!”
Neal jerked awake and rolled his shoulders. But when your hands and arms are as restricted as his were, getting the kinks out of the joints and muscles quickly turned into an almost impossible task. He saw one of his captors approaching the cage. While he spent most of the time in this prison, Neal was taken out for certain times. Whoever had kidnapped him gave him bread and water, let him use the toilet right around the corner of the “cage room”. And they brought him for some hours every day to yet another room, where they forced him to create a wide range of forged documents. Try as he might, Neal couldn’t remember all the details on them. But maybe that was more due to the constant presence of a gun barrel in his neck than to his loss of orientation and time or anything else.
After getting his “daily dose of humanity”, as Neal dubbed his morning stint in the bathroom, he was led to the forging room. The other kidnapper was standing at the small end of the room, and judging by his body language, he wasn’t happy at all. Before Neal had a chance to react, the man walked into his personal space and backhanded him across the face. The effect left him reeling, and so Neal wasn’t at least prepared for the man grabbing him by the hair and yanking his head up to eye-level.
“You knew it!”
“Knew what?”
If anything, they didn’t succeed in breaking the stubborn streak in Neal. Knowing that they probably will kill him anyway, as soon as his work was done, he decided early into his imprisonment that he wouldn’t go down without a fight.
“That they would find her.” Deep down, Neal let out a whoop of joy. Sara was safe, and probably helping NYPD and FBI in locating him right now. “You knew that when you convinced us of dumping her there!”
Once again, the man punched him, this time in the gut, but Neal couldn’t care less about it. He knew that, sooner or later, the life of a criminal would get the better of him. He only hoped that Peter, Elizabeth and all the other people he had come to love and consider his family were safe too.
“And if I did?” Neal challenged the man.
“She’s in the hospital now, and I saw Burke walking into the same hospital. Wanna guess what he’s doing there?”
Neal didn’t answer. Instead, he opted for sitting down at the table, and without being told to do so, picked up the tools to create yet another false document. He only had to hold on for some more time. Peter and his team were on the way, and that was the only thing that kept Neal going.
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Trinity Hospital
Sara’s room
When she woke, Sara was somehow glad that the night was over. Despite of what she had let on to the night nurses, her sleep was far from restful. Quite contrary, the images she had seen the better part of yesterday came back to her, and she was more and more convinced that the man with the wonderful blue eyes was (a) more than just a colleague or an acquaintance to her and (b) that he was somehow linked to her being in the hospital.
A young nurse - “Ellie” according to her name tag - came in and told Sara that they would have to change the linens on her bed. Not having enough faith in her legs to hold her up, Sara opted for the wheelchair, if only for the short distances to the bathroom and the table. Ellie and another nurse made quick work of the bed, then the second nurse brought some breakfast, while Ellie offered Sara to help her if she wanted to take a shower afterwards.
A few hours later, Peter came by, this time accompanied by a young Afro-American man and an exuberant blonde woman. The two newcomers stopped at some distance to her bed, while Peter came closer and put a small brown bag right in front of her.
“What’s that?”
“Have a look.” Sara did as told, and revealed a small box sitting inside the bag, emitting an incredible delicious smell. She looked up to see all three of her visitors smiling. “A little treat, with best wishes from my wife.”
“Your wife can cook?”
From the corner of her eyes, Sara saw the new faces smiling at each other; apparently her expression was one from the funnier pages.
“Yeah, and she also knows the best places to get everything she can’t or doesn’t have the time to make on her own.”
While listening to Peter, Sara noticed the logo on the side of the bag. “The Greatest Cake” was written across the lower part, in a somewhat old-fashioned way, and somehow Sara knew that this shop was familiar to her too. But once again, she came up with nothing.
“So, how was your night?”
Peter’s question brought her out of her reverie, and she leaned closer to him, as if she didn’t want anyone to hear what she had to say.
“Not quite as good as I let on to the night nurses.” Peter’s answer was a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t want them all to worry about me. And I absolutely didn’t want the room crowded at night.”
Peter nodded, understanding that she didn’t want to be fussed about all the time. Especially when her brain was in the lengthy process of restoring itself.
“But you got some sleep, right?”
“Yeah, but it was interrupted by the images I saw in the afternoon.” Sara only saw now that Peter was holding a file in his hands. “And I feel that the man with the blue eyes is somewhat linked to me being here.”
Once again, Peter nodded, before motioning the two new faces over to her bed.
“Sara, I would like you to meet Agent Clinton Jones,” he indicated the young man, who shook Sara’s hand, “and a good friend of his, Ms. Penelope Garcia.” The woman also shook Sara’s hand.
“Next to her work as a technical analyst with the FBI in Quantico, Penelope does a lot of voluntary work with victims of crimes and their families. She knows some techniques that might help your brain.”
“What kind of techniques?”
Sara didn’t want to appear suspicious, but she absolutely had no idea of what this woman could do to help her.
“Nothing too fancy, pumpkin.” Penelope sat down on Sara’s left side, grabbing her hand. “Just some breathing techniques that help you focus. You know, the memories are still in there,” she touched the side of her own head, “but unfortunately, there’s a lot of rubble covering them. With the techniques I’m going to teach you, we might stand a chance to unbury them without causing your brain, which is still healing, too much trouble.”
“So Sara, what do you say? Worth giving it a try?”
Unnoticed to her, Dr. Grant had come into the room as well and was now standing next to Jones.
“I had a talk with Penelope before she came in here, and from my professional point of view I completely agree with these techniques.”
“So, no risk of overwhelming her at all?” Peter asked, her reaction to the images yesterday still fresh in his mind.
“Sure, there is a small percentage of it happening again, but that’s the general nature of amnesia. No matter how severe it is, most patients link the restoration of their memories with a sense of overwhelming.” He looked around the room and was met with four somewhat confused expressions. “You see, memories don’t restore themselves one by one. They usually come back in waves, and like the ones we know from the beach, these waves can knock us out of balance.”
As if on command, four pairs of eyes focused on Sara, waiting for her to decide.
“Well, I guess it can’t get any worse than it is already.” She looked from Dr. Grant to Penelope. “Okay, let’s give it a try.”
Seconds later, Dr. Grant was out of the room again, leaving them to their own devices. Sara saw Jones retrieving a large bag by the door (which she only noticed right now) and carrying it over to the small table. To Sara’s surprise, the content consisted of several large candles, as well as some scented sticks, a large plaid and some cushions. Sensing Sara’s growing curiosity, Penelope turned around.
“We need to create a different atmosphere in here. If we keep it the way it is now, we won’t get anywhere.” She got closer to Sara, still a broad smile on her face. “You know, hospital rooms are not very helpful when it comes to relaxing.” Penelope winked at her, and before Sara knew it, the bubbly blonde was back at Jones’ side.
“Sara?”
She was watching Jones and Garcia so intently that Peter’s voice registered in her mind with some delay.
“Oh.” Peter answered with a small smile. “Something wrong, Peter?”
“No, not at all. I just wanted to let you know that you will be alone with Jones and Penelope for some time. I have to follow a lead.”
“And this lead has something to do with me?” It came out as a question, but Sara intended it to sound more like a statement.
“Probably.”
She gestured at the door.
“Well, then by all means. Go and catch the bad guys.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter was barely outside the main entrance of the hospital when his phone rang. Seeing the name of his wife flashing across the screen, he only could wonder as to why Elizabeth was ringing him now.
“Hon, what’s up?”
“Hey, Hon, would it be too much for you to come back home?”
“El, is everything alright?”
“Yeah.” He heard some background noise, but that definitely didn’t sound like Satchmo. “Mozzie is here. He just got back from Detroit, and he is absolutely devastated. I don’t know why, but somehow he thinks that Neal got kidnapped because of him.”
“What?” Peter shook his head. Once again, the short guy managed to surprise him.
“Yeah, it’s crazy to even think about it, but you know Mozzie. Once he got something on his mind, it’s hard to detour him.” Once again, background noise was heard, this time the teapot. “Anyway, he said as soon as he heard about Neal’s disappearance, he contacted someone who might get information you and your team won’t get.”
“Did he say who he contacted?” Peter had a hunch, his mind wandering back to a case he and Neal solved several months ago.
“No, and he won’t say the name to anyone else than you.”
Peter looked at his wristwatch. Right before he came to the hospital, Diana called him and told him that they finally got the track data from Neal’s anklet. And while a part of him was more than a bit anxious to have a look at them, the better part didn’t want to have to look after Mozzie too, in case the man tried anything stupid to spring Neal free.
“Alright, I swing by. But tell him that I will arrest him if he just wants to spin yet another conspiracy theory.”
“Don’t worry, Hon. I think conspiracy theories are not exactly at the front of his mind right now.” She made a pause. “We both know that Neal and Mozzie are very talented actors if they needed to be, but Moz’s really worried about Neal.”
And that was something that Peter absolutely could relate to. Not long ago, Keller had kidnapped Elizabeth, causing the rift between Peter and Neal to deepen even further.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Burke Residence
DeKalb Avenue, Brooklyn
When Peter Burke pulled up to his house some time later, his worry about Neal’s welfare had more and more turned into fear. During the drive from Trinity Hospital to Brooklyn, Diana had called him again, telling him that something was afoot with the data from Neal’s tracking anklet. She already had one of the FBI technicians working on it, and had voiced her concern to Hughes, Bancroft and Roe, but until they had solid proof, they couldn’t do anything. Was it possible that one of the U.S. Marshals was part of the kidnapping, in whatever capacity?
Peter took a deep breath before entering his house. If anything, he didn’t want to raise the already high levels of worry in his wife. And if Mozzie got a whiff of his own fear for Neal… well, they definitely would go into uncharted waters.
“Hey, Hon!”
As on any other day, Elizabeth came from the general direction of the kitchen, welcoming him home with a kiss.
“Hey. Did I miss him?”
“No, he’s out in the back.”
Peter started to head out on the patio, only to be stopped by his wife.
“What?”
“(A) He’s not alone out there, and I’m not talking about Satchmo keeping him company.” Peter raised an eyebrow, urging Elizabeth to continue. “And (B): You have to tread very carefully, if you want to get anything out of him.” Again, her words were met with a raised eyebrow. “Hon, whenever you’re in ʻinvestigator’ mode, you tend to forget that witnesses and culprits are first and foremost human beings. You mean well and you want to get your answers as soon as possible, but you tend to turn into a caveman.” She met his eyes, her emotions running wild. “Sorry, Hon, but I had to tell you that.”
“It’s okay, Hon, you’re not the first one to mention it. Both Neal and Diana have pointed it out to me, but I chose to ignore it.” He pulled her close, planting a kiss on the top of her head before pulling back and catching her eyes with his. “You know what? We both have a talk to Mozzie and his friend, and you watch out for me and catch me before I go ʻcavemanʻ on them, okay?”
“Okay.”
They both stepped outside, and Peter was in for yet another surprise (though he somewhat was prepared for that one).
“Suit, nice of you to join us.” Mozzie stepped aside and revealed his companion. “I think you remember Sally.”
The woman waved at Peter. “Hi, Agent Burke.”
“I should have known that you kept contact with her.” Peter tried to sound exasperated, but deep down he was glad that Mozzie had kept her on speed dial, so to speak. “Well, you told my wife that you have some infos for me.”
Before Mozzie or Sally could answer, Elizabeth tapped Peter on the arm.
“Hon, let’s sit down first, okay?”
Which she did immediately, pulling him down with her on the two remaining chairs on the patio. Sally opened her messenger bag in the meantime, pulling her tablet out. With a few finger tips to the screen, she had the information she wanted to show Peter at the ready.
“Agent Burke, before I show you the information I found, let me ask you a question.” Peter nodded. “Do you trust the U.S. Marshals?”
“Of course he trusts them…” Mozzie started to rant, but Sally stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“Mozzie, I asked him. And if I remember correctly, he can speak for himself.”
“Thank you, Sally. To answer your question: I only trust them as far as I can see them, so to speak. We already had the misfortune to work with a corrupt Marshal, resulting in me being on the run.” Sally’s answer consisted only of a raised eyebrow, while both Elizabeth and Mozzie had a smile on their faces, remembering the case. “And it wasn’t as funny as those smiles,” Peter pointed from Mozzie to Elizabeth, “let on. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t more than one occasion of foul play with them.”
Sally turned the tablet around, holding it up for both Peter and Elizabeth to see the graphics on the screen.
“I have no idea what this should show us, but there’s definitely a difference between the one on the right and the one on the left side,” Elizabeth pointed out.
“Very good, Mrs. Suit,” Mozzie said with a smile. “Which doesn’t surprise me. You are a very perceptive woman, and you picked up a thing or two from your husband.”
Peter only heard the compliments for his wife with one ear. His mind was focused on the data on the screen, which he recognized as the tracking data from Neal’s anklet. And boy, there was something bigger going on, if the huge difference between the official and the real version was anything to go by.
“What do you think does that mean?” Sally’s question, paired with the worried stares of both El and Mozzie, brought Peter back to reality.
“I’m not sure, but I think we have a mole with the Marshals. Or one of them is part of Neal and Sara’s kidnapping.”
“Ms. Ellis has been kidnapped too?” Mozzie asked, incredulity prominent in his voice. Apparently, Elizabeth hadn’t told him about it.
“Yeah, but they dumped her in an alley.” Peter finally looked up from the screen to Neal’s best friend. “She’s at Trinity’s right now, trying to recover from amnesia.”
“Amnesia? So she can’t help us find Neal?” Mozzie’s voice now had an edge of defeat, and Peter was sure he hadn’t seen the short man so dejected before.
“She’s working hard on regaining her memories, so she might be helpful after all. The rest of us only can hope that she will manage that before Neal’s time run out.”
“If he’s still alive,” Mozzie huffed, before sinking back in his seat. “He was afraid that something like that might happen, sooner or later.”
“What?” Both Elizabeth and Peter asked, and on any other day, Mozzie might have smiled about the involuntary comic of the situation. But not today.
“Yeah. After the whole U-Boat loot disaster, he and I were sitting on his patio, sipping some wine, when all of a sudden he told me that he considered several people, including, you, Elizabeth, Sara, June and me, as his family. And that his biggest fear was that something was happening to any one of us.” He heaved a sigh. “At that time, I blamed it on the recent altercation we all had with Keller, but now I can’t help but think that Neal felt something bigger was about to happen.”
Elizabeth reached over the table, grabbing Mozzie’s hands with both of hers. “Moz, you have a lot of talents, but mind-reading is, thank God, not one of them. So how should you know better? Or know what Neal was exactly thinking while saying these words?”
“Yeah, but I know him better than he himself does at times. I should have been able to read between the lines.” Mozzie looked up from Elizabeth to Peter. “But part of me was still so angry at him for keeping me in the loop about the freight list that it blocked everything else.”
“Mozzie, there’s no use to cry over spilt milk, especially not now.” Peter tried to put every ounce of optimism into his words. He didn’t need the short man going straight into a depression. “Sally, I take it you have more data than just that.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.
“I do, Agent Burke, and while I’m willing to share them with selected FBI personnel, I will not tell you or any other agent how I got them in the first place.”
“I’m not asking you to do that…”
He didn’t get any further, since his mobile decided to interrupt him once again.
“Burke?”
“Agent Burke? Penelope Garcia is speaking.”
Peter pulled the phone away, chancing a second look on the display. The discrepancy between the name on the screen and the actual speaker sent his eyebrows skyrocketing.
“Penelope, why do you have Jones’ phone?”
“Burke, you better come back to Trinity. We have a big problem.”
Before he could say anything else, the bubbly blonde friend of Jones hung up on him. Peter noticed in her voice that something had happened in the short time since he left.
“Mozzie, you still have one of your safe houses?”
“You know that I have more than one.” Peter only sent him a challenging look. “But yes, one of them is available.”
“What’s wrong, Hon?” Elizabeth asked, worry lacing her voice.
“Something has happened at Trinity’s. I head back over there, while you get Satchmo and accompany Sally and Mozzie to his safe house. I bet it has something to do with the discrepancy in the data of Neal’s anklet.” Peter got up, ready to leave the house. “I can’t risk having any of you attacked.” He gave her a kiss on the head before looking over to Mozzie. “I count on you, Mozzie. Keep her safe. And get me more about the tracking data.”
“Suit, you can count on me,” Mozzie answered, and Peter was sure that the man never had sounded so sincere before.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Coming soon: The team finally can nail down names for the culprits, Sara learns about her rocky relationship with Neal - and something is found in the Hudson.