Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar or it's characters, I'm just a visitor. Thank to those who created it.
Chapter 1
Sitting out on the evening shadowed back deck, the woman's finely manicured hand stroked Satchmo gently. He wagged his tail eagerly and Elizabeth smiled at her client.
"So it has to be a dog friendly event. Not often I get called on to cater this kind of party."
Ruby Miller smiled back. "A retirement party for a show dog." She motioned to the yellow lab at her side, a beautiful dog, far more pampered than the Burke's own pet.
Satchmo pawed at a rope toy. He dropped it, and turned back for a pat. Meanwhile the show dog sneakily grabbed the toy and slunk behind a bush with it. Satchmo suddenly looked around and pursued.
Elizabeth hid her smile behind her coffee mug. She suddenly had the image of Neal "looking shifty" as Peter called it. She doubted either Neal or Peter would appreciate the reference, but it was all she could do not to start laughing at the sudden imagined resemblance in the two dogs.
Her reverie was shattered by her client's gasp. She spun as a shadow loomed over her, waving a gun. "What..."
"Quiet!" The hooded man grabbed her and she struggled, even as she saw her client wrestled into submission by his companion.
"Where'd the dog go?"
"There"...a third man swam into view, aiming a gun. Satchmo leaped out, barking fiercely, far more aggressive than Elizabeth had ever seen him.
The man fired the gun as she squealed in horror. His sleeve rode up, revealing a tattoo. He hit her, hard. Her vision grayed. Satchmo leaped and he swung the gun. The last thing she heard as the shadows overwhelmed her was a yelp...
She woke to the sway of a van and voices. She let her eyes slit open, hoping the sudden pounding of her heart wasn't as loud as it sounded. The van stopped and she jammed her eyes shut. The door rolled open.
"You idiots! You were supposed to grab the dog! Not the owner! She can id me! And whose this?"
"A witness, she'd have called for help before we got a block."
"Oh, no. Get rid of them. I don't care how. Drop them off far away. "
"I didn't sign on for killing," someone squeaked.
"There out cold. Didn't see ya."
" Dump them in the middle of nowhere and let 'em hike to the phone then. I don't care, just give me the dog."
A dragging sound... "What is that?"
"The dog."
"Oh, I am surrounded by morons. That is no show dog! It's a household pet! Get rid of it!"
Satchmo...Oh Satchmo...
The cab approaching the Burke's swerved to avoid the dog limping by the road. Startled out of thought by the driver's swearing, Neal looked out the window and did a double take, turning all the way around on the seat.
"Stop!"
"Eh?" The driver slammed on the brakes, then swerved to the road side.
"Wait here." Neal dove out. He didn't analyze how he knew it was Satchmo instead of any of a number of strays. But he did. "Satchmo?"
The dog whined and limped up. Neal took in the scuffed coat and wobbly walk. His phone was in his hand immediately.
"Peter..."
Neal climbed out of the cab to find Peter marshalling the troops via phone. The cab driver, took the extra bonus for the dog – who had certainly never been allowed in his cab- and took off. Neal noted that he'd never seen Peter so frantic.
The man kneeled before Satchmo as he disconnected. "What happened, Satchmo?"
The lab whined and licked him.
"He was pretty wobbly when I found him. I think he was drugged."
"Yeah," Peter held up note. "Found this out back. Ransom note for a dog named Roland something something... "
Neal's eyes widened. "So. Where is this Roland?"
"Dunno, but El had a client some dog show lady...and she was going to bring her dog. El said it was some sort of soiree for the dog's retirement party?" Peter shook his head. I think she met her in the park, and they were both walking the dogs."
"Any excuse for wine and cakes..." Neal observed.
"And dog biscuits."
Neal frowned. "Dog showing is a big business. So someone meant to grab the show dog and grabbed Satchmo too? Or did they think he was this Roland?"
"Mistake Satchmo for a show dog?" Peter was shaking his head.
Neal managed a flicker of a smile. "Take it as a compliment. I can just see you trotting around the ring with him..."
"Ha! Hang out with the snobs! Me and Satch?"
He had succeeded in distracting him from his worry. But only for a moment. Then the frown returned.
"So why take them?"
"You sure they didn't just run or leave the dogs here and go out?"
Peter shook his head. "I can't reach El, anyway..." He held up two purses.
Neal shook his head too.
"Something went wrong, they grabbed the wrong dog, maybe they just took them, so they wouldn't call the police until they got Roland away, maybe out of the country."
"Out of the country? For a ransom?"
"They might want him for breeding."
Cars were pulling up outside. "All the dogs in shelters, or needing homes... and they have to kidnap one just because he has some ribbons and a long name with a paper pedigree...Peter shook his head and fondled Satchmo sadly. The big dog thumped his tail and whimpered.
As the Jones, Dianna and the team hit the front door, Neal stepped into the kitchen and called Mozzie.
"You want me to look for a WHAT?"
Neal smiled, picturing the look on Mozzie's face. For sure, this was not there usual kind of crime. Then his eyes narrowed. "We think they have Elizabeth and a client of hers Moz."
"Mrs. Suit? I'm in!"
