White Collar Big Bang: Open And Shut, Chapter 6
See Chapter 1 for header info
Chapter 5
Neal stretched in bed and reached for the sleeping girl next to him. His hand swished through the air and hit an empty pillow. Again. With a start he raised his head, looking around.
"Morning." Jen was standing by the little kitchenette, whisking eggs in a bowl.
"Good morning. " Neal smiled, relieved she was still there. He was so lucky, he couldn't believe it. "What are you doing?"
"Making breakfast," she continued whisking. "I'm surprised you have flour. Most guys don't keep that stuff around."
"I'm not most guys." Neal shot a quick look at the clock, and gasped at the time. He was already running late.
Jen noticed the look on his face. "I thought you deserved to sleep in this morning."
"Yeah, try convincing Peter of that." Neal threw the blankets off and struggled up and to his closet, looking for what to wear.
Jen rolled her eyes and put down the bowl on the counter. "Oh, come on! You've never played hooky before?" She moved over to Neal.
"Not with the guy who can send me back to jail." His phone rang. Jen reached out to grab it, but Neal beat her to it. He took a quick look at the screen. "It's Peter."
"Tell him you're sick.." Jen whispered in his ear.
"Hey." Neal answered.
"Where are you?" Peter wasn't one to waste time on small talk.
Jen was rubbing his shoulders, and it was hard to tell her no. "I'm, uh.. " he hacked out a cough, "Peter, I'm not feeling well, I was up all night throwing up."
"Oh." Peter paused, unsure what to say. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah." Neal swallowed, his throat turning dry. "I'll try to come in, Peter, I'm just-"
"No, no, it's OK. Stay home and rest, and don't forget to drink. Feel better, OK."
"Yeah. Thanks." Neal ended the call and tossed the phone back on his night table. He ran his fingers through his hair. Now he was really lying to Peter.
"There." Jen kissed his neck. "Was that so difficult?"
"God, I feel bad." He could lie to people without blinking, with a smile on his face. Why did he feel so guilty now?
"See? So you weren't even lying. Come on," she reached for his hand, pulling him towards the kitchen. "I'll make you pancakes."
*****
Peter grimaced at his computer screen. He was sure this was somehow connected to Neal's new girlfriend, but he couldn't deny the man a day off if he really wasn't feeling well. Tapping at his keyboard, Peter brought up a map of Neal's anklet. Neal was home, which wasn't that surprising.
"Morning, Boss." Diana stopped by his office. "Caffrey's on his way?"
"Neal called in sick."
"Really?"
Her tone caught Peter's attention, and he smiled at her. "You think the great Neal Caffrey should be able to con stomach viruses too?"
Diana shrugged. "He's never been sick before."
"Yeah. Truth is, I'm not sure how sick he really is now, either."
Diana wasn't surprised. Deep down she thought Peter was way too soft on the con-man. "You want me to pop by his place, make sure he's really on the up and up?"
Peter considered the offer for a second. He'd actually thought of doing so himself. "No, no, I don't want him to think I don't trust him."
"Do you?" Diana grinned at him.
It was a question Peter didn't really feel like answering. Instead he pointed at the file his agent was holding. "Got anything for me?"
"Yeah. NYPD found our bike." She handed the file over. "In a scrap metal yard. Wiped clean, of course."
Peter glanced through the file, a grin appearing on his face. "Of course. Wouldn't want to make our job any easier."
"Nope. Turns out it was stolen in Pittsburgh."
"Yeah, OK, thanks, Diana." Peter plopped the file down. He actually enjoyed the ones who made his job harder. It made catching them that much sweeter a victory.
Once she left, he glanced back at his computer screen. Neal's anklet was still blinking green at home. After a moment's thought, he picked up his phone and dialed. This was a case for some undercover work. "Hey, Hon."
"Hey, everything's OK?"
"Yeah, yeah. Just.. Neal called in sick today, some kind of stomach bug, and I was wondering-"
Elizabeth didn't wait for the end of the sentence. "You want me to drop by his place?"
Peter smiled. He loved his wife. "Yeah. If it's not too much trouble. Just don't tell him I asked."
"You didn't." El answered. "I think I can fit it in."
Putting down the phone, she turned to Mozzie, who was standing by, listening to every word. "I'm going to stop by Neal, want to join me?" Despite her promise to Peter, Mozzie seemed to always be around nowadays. And it had turned out to be impossible to throw him out; he just kept showing up again. The poor thing just seemed so distraught over his fight with Neal. Peter had no idea what could have caused such an explosion, though when it came to Mozzie, he didn't think it took much.
"I don't think he'll want to see me."
"He's sick, I doubt he'll have the strength to argue with you now," El tried to put a positive spin on things. "Besides, you won't know unless you try, right?"
Mozzie simply shrugged.
"Look, I know you, and I know Neal. Whatever got him upset, he'll get over it. Your friendship is stronger than that."
Mozzie considered her for a moment. Peter was Neal's friend. His partner. But even Peter didn't really know Neal. He couldn't see what was happening right under his nose. "Every friendship has its breaking point."
El tried again. "When Peter and Neal were investigating Pratt, I went behind Peter's back to keep him safe. I lied to him. It was a mistake, but Peter forgave me, because he knew I did it out of love. I was worried about him."
Elizabeth's words hit too close to home. They've lied to each other in the past, Neal and him. It was part of the package deal, and neither expected more from each other. But this time he'd crossed the line. He did what was necessary, knowing it would hurt Neal in the short run, but he had only acted in Neal's best interests. Was it too naïve to expect Neal to realize that?
He had nothing against the Burkes, besides the fact that they were the Evil Agents of the Dark Forces of Government, but their couch wasn't as comfortable as Neal's, their cultural horizons were quite limited, and their wine collection left much to be desired. He missed being able to hang around Neal's place.
"Well," Elizabeth continued, unaware of the turmoil she caused, "if you want to join me, I'll be leaving in the next half hour or so."
*****
"What have we got?" Peter entered the conference room. The table was already covered with files and coffee cups, and agents milling about. People started taking their seats once he entered.
Diana looked up at him. "We've got the files you requested, all stolen art going back six months, nationally."
"Good, good." Peter rubbed his hands together and moved over to the whiteboard. "OK. So, what do we know so far?" The board was filled with surveillance photos and lists and maps of known and suspected hits by Zorro. "Let's focus only on the crimes we know she's involved in. She's hit the Dobbler and Hewit galleries here in New York and the Raab in Pittshburgh."
Peter took down a few of the photos. Picking up a marker, he wrote in big, block letters: "MO".
Clinton raised a hand. "She's good at bypassing security systems. She did that at the Hewitt and in Pittsburgh too."
"Right." Peter added that to the list.
"She picks her targets." Diana pointed out. "Each of the three had only one painting stolen."
"She might be going through a shopping list." Peter added.
"Yeah. And she's going for lesser known paintings. Impressionist paintings."
Peter nodded, summing up, "So we're looking for thefts involving one piece, of lesser known impressionists."
They divided up the files and for the next few hours they all sat around the table, reading and analyzing the data. Most files were rejected; it was obvious they weren't talking about the same thief. The files that did seem connected were placed in the center of the table.
By the time they went through all the files, they had eleven files all together fitting Zorro's profile and MO. Peter hurried to his office and returned with a large map, which he quickly affixed to the board.
"We've got Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Chicago, Austin, Cedar Rapids, Fort Wayne, Miami." He circled each city. "And now New York."
"She's really doing the rounds here," one of the agents commented.
Peter certainly agreed. He tapped the marker against his hand. "But why isn't she moving on?"
"New York has a lot of art," Diana spoke up. "Previously she didn't hit more than one or two galleries in every town she passed."
"Besides the Forain in Pittsburgh, none of the others made it to market," Clinton pointed out.
Diana glanced at him, "That we know of."
Peter nodded. "Yeah." He stared at the map. "Maybe it's not so complicated. If we assume she's not responsible for all the thefts.. " He marked a line across the northern towns.
Diana blinked. "She's following I-80!"
"Yeah. She's following I-80." They finally had something to go on. "Let's get the files a full year back and see if we can continue the pattern."
*****
And once again El found herself trudging up to Neal's apartment. She'd prepared Neal rice and soup, all carefully packed in the bag she was carrying. She got up to the second story landing and looked up the stairs. She really wished Neal had an elevator.
Neal and Jen were enjoying a leisurely breakfast. It's been ages since anybody had made Neal breakfast. Not including his prison time, that is, but Neal didn't really count that as food. Nowadays when he wanted to treat himself, he usually stopped at a café on the way to work. Or used his weekends to go someplace special.
Jen leaned back in her chair, enjoying Neal's gusto. "Have you ever done the Guggenheim?"
"That's a tough place to get into." Neal shot her a look and swallowed his last bite of pancake.
She wriggled her fork at him. "I assume you're talking from experience?"
He leaned closer to whisper in her ear, "The Guggenheim has a signed Caffrey hanging on their wall."
She drew back with a frown as she realized the implications. She might be going for a forged painting. A tiny possibility, but still a possibility. "You're serious?"
Neal broke into a grin, the pride on his face answer enough. He'd done it when he was young and stupid; when he wanted to show the world that he, Neal Caffrey, could do whatever he pleased; when he thought he'll never get caught. Knowing now what he didn't then - that evidence in court could cost him years of his life in prison - he would never again sign a forgery with his own name.
"Which piece?"
Neal chuckled. "Oh, no fair telling." He loved that quizzical look on her face, unsure whether to continue interrogating him or not. It could be so much fun to tour the museum together and see if she could spot his work. "Maybe we could do a preliminary trip, scope out the place."
She pointed down to his foot. "Not with that thing you're not."
"Afraid I'll get you into trouble?" he teased her.
"I'm afraid you'll get yourself into trouble." Jen grabbed the plates to take them to the sink.
"Wait.. " Neal reached out to stop her, unsuccessfully.
She threw a dish towel at him. "How about you help out?"
With a quick sigh, Neal joined her by the sink, coming up to hug her from behind.
She wriggled against him. "Hey! That's not helping out."
"It is for me," he nuzzled her neck.
Reaching the landing outside Neal's apartment, Elizabeth knocked lightly on the door and tried the handle. It was unlocked. She didn't want to disturb Neal if he was sleeping off whatever was ailing him. Opening the door, she peered in. "Neal?"
Neal turned around at the sound of his name, all color draining from his face when he saw his visitor. "Elizabeth."
"Neal. I just, well, I just-" Elizabeth stammered. So much for having prior warning. Neal was wearing pajama pants, the young woman with him, even less. Trying to cover for her uneasiness, El took a small step in, and gestured with the bag in her hands. "Peter mentioned you weren't feeling well, and, I, well, I thought you might like a care package. But," she added, her glance shifting between Neal and Jen, "I see you don't really need one."
"Elizabeth, please come in," Neal tried taking charge of the situation. "Meet Jen. Jen, this is Peter's wife, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth put down the bag on the table and reached out to shake hands with Jen. The girl from the painting. "Oh, you've met Peter?" she asked, surprised.
"No, but Neal has told me a lot about him," Jen answered demurely.
"Look, Elizabeth," Neal spoke up, "I know what this looks like, but this isn't-"
El didn't let him finish. "It looks like you're lying to Peter and running behind his back."
Neal lifted his hands innocently. "I may have exaggerated a bit, but I wasn't lying." He paused when Elizabeth glared at him. She never did appreciate the way he carefully danced around actually lying to Peter. Not that it mattered much by now. He was lying to Peter left and right. Hell, he was lying to Elizabeth right now. Taking a couple of steps, he closed the distance between them. "Are you going to tell Peter about this?"
"I'm not going to lie to my husband."
Neal bit down the first retort that came to mind. Elizabeth had no problems asking Neal to lie to Peter, but now she was suddenly the paragon of spousal integrity. Instead Neal filed this away for future use, deciding it wouldn't help his cause to bring this up right now. "I'm not asking you to."
Elizabeth considered Neal for a moment. The pleading look in his eyes belied his words. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. And it wasn't as if he was really doing anything wrong, not as far as she could see. Why couldn't he understand that sneaking around like this just made Peter more suspicious? "Neal.. whatever's going on, you should tell Peter about it."
Neal nodded with a quick smile. Elizabeth wasn't going to tell on him. "You're right, of course, I will."
That didn't sound definitive enough for Elizabeth. As much as she understood Neal's wish for privacy, stunts like these could land Peter in serious trouble. And he was being scrutinized at work, as it was, with the higher-ups just waiting for him to mess up. She glanced at her watch. "Look, Neal, it's now eleven. I'm going to call Peter in about an hour, and when I do, I'm going to tell him the truth. Please speak to Peter before then."
Too late, Neal realized he'd been outplayed. He couldn't press Elizabeth to lie, not after he'd told her he didn't want her to, and he'd just agreed with her that Peter should be told. But none of that showed on his face when he responded, "Of course, I'll talk to him immediately." As if that's exactly what he meant to do all along
Elizabeth's voice softened. "You know, he's worried about you."
"I know." Neal wasn't sure that's the way he would have phrased it. There was no reason he had to report to Peter about every single thing he did in life. Neal wasn't a little kid, and he didn't need Peter standing over his shoulder and giving him unsolicited life advice all the time.
"OK." Elizabeth sounded like she was trying to reassure herself. She picked up the bag she'd brought. "So, uh, nice meeting you, Jen."
Jen smiled sweetly. "Nice meeting you too." She dropped the smile the minute the door shut behind Elizabeth. "What does this mean?"
Neal shook his head. "It means I'm going to have to speak to Peter." He wasn't looking forward to this at all.
*****
"Peter." Callaway stopped by Peter's office. "Where's Caffrey?"
Peter looked up from his work. He had been hoping his boss wouldn't notice the missing CI. "Oh. He's home, sick."
"Sick." She repeated, shaking her head. "This isn't a day-camp, Peter."
"I'm not going to force a sick man to come to work."
Amanda seemed to accept that. "You're sure he's sick?"
"Well, when I spoke to him this morning he sounded like he's going through hell, so I'd say-" Peter stopped mid-sentence, when he saw the subject of the conversation get off the elevator. "I'd say that he's probably feeling better."
Callaway turned to follow Peter's line of sight, pursing her lips at the sight of Neal. "He doesn’t look sick to me."
Neal paused as he entered the White Collar offices, realizing both Callaway and Peter were observing his entrance. Peter got up from behind his desk and gave Neal the finger point. "Oh, boy."
*****
Sitting in the guest chair in Peter's office, Neal watched as the agent paced back and forth. Peter finally paused by his desk, turning on Neal. "I can't believe you lied to me."
"And I can't believe you sent Elizabeth to spy on me," Neal answered with just as much passion.
"I didn't send-" Peter cut off at Neal's disbelieving look. "You know what, I don't need to excuse myself to you. You keep forgetting that you're under my supervision and that if-"
"Oh," Neal snorted. "I wish I could forget, but you don't let me."
"I want to trust you, Neal, but every time," Peter was saying, "every time I try to do it, you go and prove me wrong."
Neal didn't really see where Peter had tried to trust him. "Look, Peter-"
"You're not a little kid." Peter put up a hand to massage his forehead. Why did Neal constantly act like one? "OK. So what got into your head this time, hm? "
Neal cleared his throat. "I woke up late, and then you called, and-"
"You woke up late." Peter repeated, not believing that Neal was actually going to use that excuse.
"Yeah." Neal cleared his throat again. It was either telling Peter now, or having Elizabeth give her version of events. "I had a guest over, and I didn't get much sleep last night."
"A guest."
Peter was starting to sound like an echo chamber. "A female guest," Neal clarified, hoping the agent would piece the story together on his own.
Peter shook his head. If the younger man insisted on saying as little as possible, then so be it. He was actually starting to enjoy this. "Are we talking about a one-night stand, or-"
"No, no." Neal shifted under Peter's glare. "She's a more permanent type of guest."
Finally he was getting somewhere. Peter took his seat. "You mean you've been seeing her for a while?"
"A few days, yes."
Peter pulled a legal pad over and produced a pen from his jacket pocket. "Does this somebody have a name?"
"Her name's Jen. Jen Heisner." Neal watched silently as Peter wrote that down. As far as visual aids went, it was a very effective one. He got the point.
The agent then looked back up at Neal. "And you met here where?"
"Oh.." Neal shrugged, not liking this interrogation at all. "We sort of ran into each other. Boy meets girl, girl likes boy." Boy reports about girl to boy's FBI handler. "You know how that goes."
Peter leaned back in his chair. Right, he was talking to Neal. The guy who could pick up girls on a five minute milk run. "She's not a criminal, is she?"
Now it was Neal's turn to pause. His heart beating loudly in his ears. "What?"
"Kate, Alex. You've got a track record."
Neal chuckled weakly. It was a joke, and a bad one too. "Sara doesn't have a criminal record."
"No, but she knew about your criminal past. This Jen, she knows about.. about your situation?"
Neal lifted his pants leg to reveal his anklet. "It's kind of hard to hide." Especially after Elizabeth showed up and made it quite clear he was not allowed to skip work.
"Good. Because, Neal?" Peter waited for the other man to look up, "She needs to know. Everything."
"Don't worry, Peter." Neal smiled disarmingly.
Whenever Neal smiled, Peter knew something was wrong. "Neal?"
"I'm telling her." At Peter's look he added, "Everything."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Peter considered Neal for a moment. "You lied to me."
Neal shook his head, "Look, I'm sorry." He really was, but what other choice did he have?
"You should have told me when you started going out."
And there it was again. Neal hated having to report to Peter. This was his life, his girlfriend. It wasn't Peter's business. Neal's mouth closed to a thin line, his eyes flashing dangerously. "You're going to tell me who I can love now?"
"No. But I can tell you who you can see." Peter knew it was a mistake the minute the words were out of his mouth, but it was too late to take them back.
For a moment the two men glared at each other, Neal afraid to push further, and Peter afraid to continue.
Peter finally broke the standstill. "I think you should take a minute, and calm down. I need to speak to Callaway and make sure she doesn't throw you back in jail for this little stunt."
Neal exhaled slowly once Peter left the office. He shouldn't have let Peter get to him like this. He was the consummate conman, and he knew what Peter wanted - a contrite Neal who realized he'd made a mistake. Preferably also one who wouldn't embarrass the agent in front of his boss ever again.
His gaze landed on Peter's whiteboard. It had a map of the US, with some cities circled, and comments in marker all around. Curious, Neal got up to have a look. Starting from the right side of the map, he saw New York and Pittsburgh, circled in green. Then a whole bunch of other cities circled in red, almost all in a straight line going west. The line ended in the Rockies, and continued as a dotted line down to California, with several question marks added.
Neal didn't need it spelled out for him. Jen had been followingI-80, straight out of Sacramento, and Peter was onto her. Not good.
Returning to his office, Peter stopped at the door to observe his CI. It was good to see Neal focused on work, though Peter suspected he was only doing it to offset Peter's anger at his earlier behavior. Neal could drive him mad at times, but he'd held to his part of the deal, and he'd put countless criminals behind bars. That was, at least, the argument he'd just used with Callaway. Caffrey was too valuable an asset to throw away lightly, certainly not over taking a day off without clearing it first.
"We had a breakthrough on the Zorro case." Neal spun around at the sound of Peter's voice. "Thanks to you."
"Me?" Neal tried to sound as though he was pleasantly surprised.
Peter nodded. It was so much easier to talk to Neal about work. "We've been digging through old cases and it turns out you were right. She's hit before."
Neal gestured with his hand towards the map. "You think she's responsible for all of this?"
"I'm sure of it." Peter crossed over to Neal. "She might be our biggest catch in years."
Neal managed a smile, but quickly turned serious, "What did Callaway say?"
"She's willing to overlook it this time," Peter lifted a hand to stop Neal from responding. "Don't make her regret it."
"I won't." Neal nodded. He was thankful, but he hadn't really expected to be thrown in jail just for taking a day off. And truth was, he'd expected Peter to bat for him.
"You know," Peter continued, "when I first brought your deal to Hughes, he was dead set against it."
"Really?" Neal had never considered what the FBI agent had to do to get his deal approved.
"Yeah, he said," Peter cleared his throat, "he said it was probably good for the Bureau, but that I should make sure I knew what I was getting into, because I might pay a price for it down the line."
"OK, Peter-" Neal could see where this was going.
"No, no, that's what he said. And I told him, I told him, I think you're worth it."
Neal wasn't sure what to answer to that. "Look, Peter, I realize I put you in a bad position today. I swear I'll never-" he broke off at Peter's chuckle. "What?"
"Don't make promises you can't keep, OK? Just, next time you come up with some crazy idea, keep in mind that both our heads are on the chopping block, hm?"
"Right."
Peter looked Neal over. It was time to deal with the elephant in the room. "So… This Jen. Why don't you bring her by tonight?"
Neal almost choked. "Really?"
"Yeah."
Neal straightened up. "Yeah, Peter.. I don't think it's the right time yet."
"I do." Peter had turned to his no-nonsense voice.
"We already made other plans, so maybe-"
"Change them." Peter smiled at Neal, trying to downplay what was obviously an order. "Come on, it's going to be fun."
Neal sighed.
*****
"Sounds like fun." Later that evening, back at home, Neal had broken the news to Jen. He hadn't expected her to warm up to the idea.
"Being covertly interrogated by an off-duty FBI agent and his wife sounds like fun?"
Jen played with a stray curl, and Neal's heart melted. "Oh, come on, Neal!" She laughed. "You don't think I can handle this handler of yours?"
Neal raised an eyebrow. "Peter's pretty smart."
"Really?" a dangerous warning crept into her voice.
Neal pulled her close. "Though not as smart as you."
Jen grinned. "Come on, it's going to be fun."
Chapter 7
Chapter 5
Neal stretched in bed and reached for the sleeping girl next to him. His hand swished through the air and hit an empty pillow. Again. With a start he raised his head, looking around.
"Morning." Jen was standing by the little kitchenette, whisking eggs in a bowl.
"Good morning. " Neal smiled, relieved she was still there. He was so lucky, he couldn't believe it. "What are you doing?"
"Making breakfast," she continued whisking. "I'm surprised you have flour. Most guys don't keep that stuff around."
"I'm not most guys." Neal shot a quick look at the clock, and gasped at the time. He was already running late.
Jen noticed the look on his face. "I thought you deserved to sleep in this morning."
"Yeah, try convincing Peter of that." Neal threw the blankets off and struggled up and to his closet, looking for what to wear.
Jen rolled her eyes and put down the bowl on the counter. "Oh, come on! You've never played hooky before?" She moved over to Neal.
"Not with the guy who can send me back to jail." His phone rang. Jen reached out to grab it, but Neal beat her to it. He took a quick look at the screen. "It's Peter."
"Tell him you're sick.." Jen whispered in his ear.
"Hey." Neal answered.
"Where are you?" Peter wasn't one to waste time on small talk.
Jen was rubbing his shoulders, and it was hard to tell her no. "I'm, uh.. " he hacked out a cough, "Peter, I'm not feeling well, I was up all night throwing up."
"Oh." Peter paused, unsure what to say. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah." Neal swallowed, his throat turning dry. "I'll try to come in, Peter, I'm just-"
"No, no, it's OK. Stay home and rest, and don't forget to drink. Feel better, OK."
"Yeah. Thanks." Neal ended the call and tossed the phone back on his night table. He ran his fingers through his hair. Now he was really lying to Peter.
"There." Jen kissed his neck. "Was that so difficult?"
"God, I feel bad." He could lie to people without blinking, with a smile on his face. Why did he feel so guilty now?
"See? So you weren't even lying. Come on," she reached for his hand, pulling him towards the kitchen. "I'll make you pancakes."
*****
Peter grimaced at his computer screen. He was sure this was somehow connected to Neal's new girlfriend, but he couldn't deny the man a day off if he really wasn't feeling well. Tapping at his keyboard, Peter brought up a map of Neal's anklet. Neal was home, which wasn't that surprising.
"Morning, Boss." Diana stopped by his office. "Caffrey's on his way?"
"Neal called in sick."
"Really?"
Her tone caught Peter's attention, and he smiled at her. "You think the great Neal Caffrey should be able to con stomach viruses too?"
Diana shrugged. "He's never been sick before."
"Yeah. Truth is, I'm not sure how sick he really is now, either."
Diana wasn't surprised. Deep down she thought Peter was way too soft on the con-man. "You want me to pop by his place, make sure he's really on the up and up?"
Peter considered the offer for a second. He'd actually thought of doing so himself. "No, no, I don't want him to think I don't trust him."
"Do you?" Diana grinned at him.
It was a question Peter didn't really feel like answering. Instead he pointed at the file his agent was holding. "Got anything for me?"
"Yeah. NYPD found our bike." She handed the file over. "In a scrap metal yard. Wiped clean, of course."
Peter glanced through the file, a grin appearing on his face. "Of course. Wouldn't want to make our job any easier."
"Nope. Turns out it was stolen in Pittsburgh."
"Yeah, OK, thanks, Diana." Peter plopped the file down. He actually enjoyed the ones who made his job harder. It made catching them that much sweeter a victory.
Once she left, he glanced back at his computer screen. Neal's anklet was still blinking green at home. After a moment's thought, he picked up his phone and dialed. This was a case for some undercover work. "Hey, Hon."
"Hey, everything's OK?"
"Yeah, yeah. Just.. Neal called in sick today, some kind of stomach bug, and I was wondering-"
Elizabeth didn't wait for the end of the sentence. "You want me to drop by his place?"
Peter smiled. He loved his wife. "Yeah. If it's not too much trouble. Just don't tell him I asked."
"You didn't." El answered. "I think I can fit it in."
Putting down the phone, she turned to Mozzie, who was standing by, listening to every word. "I'm going to stop by Neal, want to join me?" Despite her promise to Peter, Mozzie seemed to always be around nowadays. And it had turned out to be impossible to throw him out; he just kept showing up again. The poor thing just seemed so distraught over his fight with Neal. Peter had no idea what could have caused such an explosion, though when it came to Mozzie, he didn't think it took much.
"I don't think he'll want to see me."
"He's sick, I doubt he'll have the strength to argue with you now," El tried to put a positive spin on things. "Besides, you won't know unless you try, right?"
Mozzie simply shrugged.
"Look, I know you, and I know Neal. Whatever got him upset, he'll get over it. Your friendship is stronger than that."
Mozzie considered her for a moment. Peter was Neal's friend. His partner. But even Peter didn't really know Neal. He couldn't see what was happening right under his nose. "Every friendship has its breaking point."
El tried again. "When Peter and Neal were investigating Pratt, I went behind Peter's back to keep him safe. I lied to him. It was a mistake, but Peter forgave me, because he knew I did it out of love. I was worried about him."
Elizabeth's words hit too close to home. They've lied to each other in the past, Neal and him. It was part of the package deal, and neither expected more from each other. But this time he'd crossed the line. He did what was necessary, knowing it would hurt Neal in the short run, but he had only acted in Neal's best interests. Was it too naïve to expect Neal to realize that?
He had nothing against the Burkes, besides the fact that they were the Evil Agents of the Dark Forces of Government, but their couch wasn't as comfortable as Neal's, their cultural horizons were quite limited, and their wine collection left much to be desired. He missed being able to hang around Neal's place.
"Well," Elizabeth continued, unaware of the turmoil she caused, "if you want to join me, I'll be leaving in the next half hour or so."
*****
"What have we got?" Peter entered the conference room. The table was already covered with files and coffee cups, and agents milling about. People started taking their seats once he entered.
Diana looked up at him. "We've got the files you requested, all stolen art going back six months, nationally."
"Good, good." Peter rubbed his hands together and moved over to the whiteboard. "OK. So, what do we know so far?" The board was filled with surveillance photos and lists and maps of known and suspected hits by Zorro. "Let's focus only on the crimes we know she's involved in. She's hit the Dobbler and Hewit galleries here in New York and the Raab in Pittshburgh."
Peter took down a few of the photos. Picking up a marker, he wrote in big, block letters: "MO".
Clinton raised a hand. "She's good at bypassing security systems. She did that at the Hewitt and in Pittsburgh too."
"Right." Peter added that to the list.
"She picks her targets." Diana pointed out. "Each of the three had only one painting stolen."
"She might be going through a shopping list." Peter added.
"Yeah. And she's going for lesser known paintings. Impressionist paintings."
Peter nodded, summing up, "So we're looking for thefts involving one piece, of lesser known impressionists."
They divided up the files and for the next few hours they all sat around the table, reading and analyzing the data. Most files were rejected; it was obvious they weren't talking about the same thief. The files that did seem connected were placed in the center of the table.
By the time they went through all the files, they had eleven files all together fitting Zorro's profile and MO. Peter hurried to his office and returned with a large map, which he quickly affixed to the board.
"We've got Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Chicago, Austin, Cedar Rapids, Fort Wayne, Miami." He circled each city. "And now New York."
"She's really doing the rounds here," one of the agents commented.
Peter certainly agreed. He tapped the marker against his hand. "But why isn't she moving on?"
"New York has a lot of art," Diana spoke up. "Previously she didn't hit more than one or two galleries in every town she passed."
"Besides the Forain in Pittsburgh, none of the others made it to market," Clinton pointed out.
Diana glanced at him, "That we know of."
Peter nodded. "Yeah." He stared at the map. "Maybe it's not so complicated. If we assume she's not responsible for all the thefts.. " He marked a line across the northern towns.
Diana blinked. "She's following I-80!"
"Yeah. She's following I-80." They finally had something to go on. "Let's get the files a full year back and see if we can continue the pattern."
*****
And once again El found herself trudging up to Neal's apartment. She'd prepared Neal rice and soup, all carefully packed in the bag she was carrying. She got up to the second story landing and looked up the stairs. She really wished Neal had an elevator.
Neal and Jen were enjoying a leisurely breakfast. It's been ages since anybody had made Neal breakfast. Not including his prison time, that is, but Neal didn't really count that as food. Nowadays when he wanted to treat himself, he usually stopped at a café on the way to work. Or used his weekends to go someplace special.
Jen leaned back in her chair, enjoying Neal's gusto. "Have you ever done the Guggenheim?"
"That's a tough place to get into." Neal shot her a look and swallowed his last bite of pancake.
She wriggled her fork at him. "I assume you're talking from experience?"
He leaned closer to whisper in her ear, "The Guggenheim has a signed Caffrey hanging on their wall."
She drew back with a frown as she realized the implications. She might be going for a forged painting. A tiny possibility, but still a possibility. "You're serious?"
Neal broke into a grin, the pride on his face answer enough. He'd done it when he was young and stupid; when he wanted to show the world that he, Neal Caffrey, could do whatever he pleased; when he thought he'll never get caught. Knowing now what he didn't then - that evidence in court could cost him years of his life in prison - he would never again sign a forgery with his own name.
"Which piece?"
Neal chuckled. "Oh, no fair telling." He loved that quizzical look on her face, unsure whether to continue interrogating him or not. It could be so much fun to tour the museum together and see if she could spot his work. "Maybe we could do a preliminary trip, scope out the place."
She pointed down to his foot. "Not with that thing you're not."
"Afraid I'll get you into trouble?" he teased her.
"I'm afraid you'll get yourself into trouble." Jen grabbed the plates to take them to the sink.
"Wait.. " Neal reached out to stop her, unsuccessfully.
She threw a dish towel at him. "How about you help out?"
With a quick sigh, Neal joined her by the sink, coming up to hug her from behind.
She wriggled against him. "Hey! That's not helping out."
"It is for me," he nuzzled her neck.
Reaching the landing outside Neal's apartment, Elizabeth knocked lightly on the door and tried the handle. It was unlocked. She didn't want to disturb Neal if he was sleeping off whatever was ailing him. Opening the door, she peered in. "Neal?"
Neal turned around at the sound of his name, all color draining from his face when he saw his visitor. "Elizabeth."
"Neal. I just, well, I just-" Elizabeth stammered. So much for having prior warning. Neal was wearing pajama pants, the young woman with him, even less. Trying to cover for her uneasiness, El took a small step in, and gestured with the bag in her hands. "Peter mentioned you weren't feeling well, and, I, well, I thought you might like a care package. But," she added, her glance shifting between Neal and Jen, "I see you don't really need one."
"Elizabeth, please come in," Neal tried taking charge of the situation. "Meet Jen. Jen, this is Peter's wife, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth put down the bag on the table and reached out to shake hands with Jen. The girl from the painting. "Oh, you've met Peter?" she asked, surprised.
"No, but Neal has told me a lot about him," Jen answered demurely.
"Look, Elizabeth," Neal spoke up, "I know what this looks like, but this isn't-"
El didn't let him finish. "It looks like you're lying to Peter and running behind his back."
Neal lifted his hands innocently. "I may have exaggerated a bit, but I wasn't lying." He paused when Elizabeth glared at him. She never did appreciate the way he carefully danced around actually lying to Peter. Not that it mattered much by now. He was lying to Peter left and right. Hell, he was lying to Elizabeth right now. Taking a couple of steps, he closed the distance between them. "Are you going to tell Peter about this?"
"I'm not going to lie to my husband."
Neal bit down the first retort that came to mind. Elizabeth had no problems asking Neal to lie to Peter, but now she was suddenly the paragon of spousal integrity. Instead Neal filed this away for future use, deciding it wouldn't help his cause to bring this up right now. "I'm not asking you to."
Elizabeth considered Neal for a moment. The pleading look in his eyes belied his words. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. And it wasn't as if he was really doing anything wrong, not as far as she could see. Why couldn't he understand that sneaking around like this just made Peter more suspicious? "Neal.. whatever's going on, you should tell Peter about it."
Neal nodded with a quick smile. Elizabeth wasn't going to tell on him. "You're right, of course, I will."
That didn't sound definitive enough for Elizabeth. As much as she understood Neal's wish for privacy, stunts like these could land Peter in serious trouble. And he was being scrutinized at work, as it was, with the higher-ups just waiting for him to mess up. She glanced at her watch. "Look, Neal, it's now eleven. I'm going to call Peter in about an hour, and when I do, I'm going to tell him the truth. Please speak to Peter before then."
Too late, Neal realized he'd been outplayed. He couldn't press Elizabeth to lie, not after he'd told her he didn't want her to, and he'd just agreed with her that Peter should be told. But none of that showed on his face when he responded, "Of course, I'll talk to him immediately." As if that's exactly what he meant to do all along
Elizabeth's voice softened. "You know, he's worried about you."
"I know." Neal wasn't sure that's the way he would have phrased it. There was no reason he had to report to Peter about every single thing he did in life. Neal wasn't a little kid, and he didn't need Peter standing over his shoulder and giving him unsolicited life advice all the time.
"OK." Elizabeth sounded like she was trying to reassure herself. She picked up the bag she'd brought. "So, uh, nice meeting you, Jen."
Jen smiled sweetly. "Nice meeting you too." She dropped the smile the minute the door shut behind Elizabeth. "What does this mean?"
Neal shook his head. "It means I'm going to have to speak to Peter." He wasn't looking forward to this at all.
*****
"Peter." Callaway stopped by Peter's office. "Where's Caffrey?"
Peter looked up from his work. He had been hoping his boss wouldn't notice the missing CI. "Oh. He's home, sick."
"Sick." She repeated, shaking her head. "This isn't a day-camp, Peter."
"I'm not going to force a sick man to come to work."
Amanda seemed to accept that. "You're sure he's sick?"
"Well, when I spoke to him this morning he sounded like he's going through hell, so I'd say-" Peter stopped mid-sentence, when he saw the subject of the conversation get off the elevator. "I'd say that he's probably feeling better."
Callaway turned to follow Peter's line of sight, pursing her lips at the sight of Neal. "He doesn’t look sick to me."
Neal paused as he entered the White Collar offices, realizing both Callaway and Peter were observing his entrance. Peter got up from behind his desk and gave Neal the finger point. "Oh, boy."
*****
Sitting in the guest chair in Peter's office, Neal watched as the agent paced back and forth. Peter finally paused by his desk, turning on Neal. "I can't believe you lied to me."
"And I can't believe you sent Elizabeth to spy on me," Neal answered with just as much passion.
"I didn't send-" Peter cut off at Neal's disbelieving look. "You know what, I don't need to excuse myself to you. You keep forgetting that you're under my supervision and that if-"
"Oh," Neal snorted. "I wish I could forget, but you don't let me."
"I want to trust you, Neal, but every time," Peter was saying, "every time I try to do it, you go and prove me wrong."
Neal didn't really see where Peter had tried to trust him. "Look, Peter-"
"You're not a little kid." Peter put up a hand to massage his forehead. Why did Neal constantly act like one? "OK. So what got into your head this time, hm? "
Neal cleared his throat. "I woke up late, and then you called, and-"
"You woke up late." Peter repeated, not believing that Neal was actually going to use that excuse.
"Yeah." Neal cleared his throat again. It was either telling Peter now, or having Elizabeth give her version of events. "I had a guest over, and I didn't get much sleep last night."
"A guest."
Peter was starting to sound like an echo chamber. "A female guest," Neal clarified, hoping the agent would piece the story together on his own.
Peter shook his head. If the younger man insisted on saying as little as possible, then so be it. He was actually starting to enjoy this. "Are we talking about a one-night stand, or-"
"No, no." Neal shifted under Peter's glare. "She's a more permanent type of guest."
Finally he was getting somewhere. Peter took his seat. "You mean you've been seeing her for a while?"
"A few days, yes."
Peter pulled a legal pad over and produced a pen from his jacket pocket. "Does this somebody have a name?"
"Her name's Jen. Jen Heisner." Neal watched silently as Peter wrote that down. As far as visual aids went, it was a very effective one. He got the point.
The agent then looked back up at Neal. "And you met here where?"
"Oh.." Neal shrugged, not liking this interrogation at all. "We sort of ran into each other. Boy meets girl, girl likes boy." Boy reports about girl to boy's FBI handler. "You know how that goes."
Peter leaned back in his chair. Right, he was talking to Neal. The guy who could pick up girls on a five minute milk run. "She's not a criminal, is she?"
Now it was Neal's turn to pause. His heart beating loudly in his ears. "What?"
"Kate, Alex. You've got a track record."
Neal chuckled weakly. It was a joke, and a bad one too. "Sara doesn't have a criminal record."
"No, but she knew about your criminal past. This Jen, she knows about.. about your situation?"
Neal lifted his pants leg to reveal his anklet. "It's kind of hard to hide." Especially after Elizabeth showed up and made it quite clear he was not allowed to skip work.
"Good. Because, Neal?" Peter waited for the other man to look up, "She needs to know. Everything."
"Don't worry, Peter." Neal smiled disarmingly.
Whenever Neal smiled, Peter knew something was wrong. "Neal?"
"I'm telling her." At Peter's look he added, "Everything."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Peter considered Neal for a moment. "You lied to me."
Neal shook his head, "Look, I'm sorry." He really was, but what other choice did he have?
"You should have told me when you started going out."
And there it was again. Neal hated having to report to Peter. This was his life, his girlfriend. It wasn't Peter's business. Neal's mouth closed to a thin line, his eyes flashing dangerously. "You're going to tell me who I can love now?"
"No. But I can tell you who you can see." Peter knew it was a mistake the minute the words were out of his mouth, but it was too late to take them back.
For a moment the two men glared at each other, Neal afraid to push further, and Peter afraid to continue.
Peter finally broke the standstill. "I think you should take a minute, and calm down. I need to speak to Callaway and make sure she doesn't throw you back in jail for this little stunt."
Neal exhaled slowly once Peter left the office. He shouldn't have let Peter get to him like this. He was the consummate conman, and he knew what Peter wanted - a contrite Neal who realized he'd made a mistake. Preferably also one who wouldn't embarrass the agent in front of his boss ever again.
His gaze landed on Peter's whiteboard. It had a map of the US, with some cities circled, and comments in marker all around. Curious, Neal got up to have a look. Starting from the right side of the map, he saw New York and Pittsburgh, circled in green. Then a whole bunch of other cities circled in red, almost all in a straight line going west. The line ended in the Rockies, and continued as a dotted line down to California, with several question marks added.
Neal didn't need it spelled out for him. Jen had been followingI-80, straight out of Sacramento, and Peter was onto her. Not good.
Returning to his office, Peter stopped at the door to observe his CI. It was good to see Neal focused on work, though Peter suspected he was only doing it to offset Peter's anger at his earlier behavior. Neal could drive him mad at times, but he'd held to his part of the deal, and he'd put countless criminals behind bars. That was, at least, the argument he'd just used with Callaway. Caffrey was too valuable an asset to throw away lightly, certainly not over taking a day off without clearing it first.
"We had a breakthrough on the Zorro case." Neal spun around at the sound of Peter's voice. "Thanks to you."
"Me?" Neal tried to sound as though he was pleasantly surprised.
Peter nodded. It was so much easier to talk to Neal about work. "We've been digging through old cases and it turns out you were right. She's hit before."
Neal gestured with his hand towards the map. "You think she's responsible for all of this?"
"I'm sure of it." Peter crossed over to Neal. "She might be our biggest catch in years."
Neal managed a smile, but quickly turned serious, "What did Callaway say?"
"She's willing to overlook it this time," Peter lifted a hand to stop Neal from responding. "Don't make her regret it."
"I won't." Neal nodded. He was thankful, but he hadn't really expected to be thrown in jail just for taking a day off. And truth was, he'd expected Peter to bat for him.
"You know," Peter continued, "when I first brought your deal to Hughes, he was dead set against it."
"Really?" Neal had never considered what the FBI agent had to do to get his deal approved.
"Yeah, he said," Peter cleared his throat, "he said it was probably good for the Bureau, but that I should make sure I knew what I was getting into, because I might pay a price for it down the line."
"OK, Peter-" Neal could see where this was going.
"No, no, that's what he said. And I told him, I told him, I think you're worth it."
Neal wasn't sure what to answer to that. "Look, Peter, I realize I put you in a bad position today. I swear I'll never-" he broke off at Peter's chuckle. "What?"
"Don't make promises you can't keep, OK? Just, next time you come up with some crazy idea, keep in mind that both our heads are on the chopping block, hm?"
"Right."
Peter looked Neal over. It was time to deal with the elephant in the room. "So… This Jen. Why don't you bring her by tonight?"
Neal almost choked. "Really?"
"Yeah."
Neal straightened up. "Yeah, Peter.. I don't think it's the right time yet."
"I do." Peter had turned to his no-nonsense voice.
"We already made other plans, so maybe-"
"Change them." Peter smiled at Neal, trying to downplay what was obviously an order. "Come on, it's going to be fun."
Neal sighed.
*****
"Sounds like fun." Later that evening, back at home, Neal had broken the news to Jen. He hadn't expected her to warm up to the idea.
"Being covertly interrogated by an off-duty FBI agent and his wife sounds like fun?"
Jen played with a stray curl, and Neal's heart melted. "Oh, come on, Neal!" She laughed. "You don't think I can handle this handler of yours?"
Neal raised an eyebrow. "Peter's pretty smart."
"Really?" a dangerous warning crept into her voice.
Neal pulled her close. "Though not as smart as you."
Jen grinned. "Come on, it's going to be fun."
Chapter 7