A/N: Sorry this took so long guys, but as I told you I had a whole bunch of exams at once leading up to last Wednesday, so I couldn't start writing until then. Also I got the last Inheritance book on Wednesday, so I've been a little bit, um, distracted. :P But never fear, because here is the next chapter of Magic!
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, White Collar, or any of their characters.
Chapter Three: You Haven't Changed A Bit
Peter sat at his kitchen table the next morning, the cereal in front of him, untouched and starting to congeal. He was worried, and thinking hard, but not about the case. About Neal. Doctor Reid's reaction to Neal's antics the day before had definitely not been normal. Either Neal had done more to aggravate Reid while they were working than either of them let on, or there was another reason for the doctor's apparently abnormal anger. The shocked reactions from the rest of the BAU had told Peter that Reid did not normally act that way. So what was going on?
"Peter, are you even listening to me?" Peter's wife Elizabeth asked.
"I'm sorry, did you say something?" said Peter distractedly, clearly not having heard a word his wife had been saying.
"I guess not then," said Elizabeth, sitting down closer to Peter. "You definitely have something on your mind. And going from past experience, I'm going to say it has something to do with Neal." Peter sighed, looking away from Elizabeth and back down at his cereal again. "Aha, I was right. Of course I was." Peter didn't react, though; he just looked at his food blankly, a million different possibilities flying through his head. "Okay, what's going on?" Elizabeth asked.
"I'm worried about him, Elizabeth," Peter admitted. "Something's going on, and not the usual type of something that makes me suspect he's going to do something illegal."
"What is it, then?"
"I'm not quite sure," said Peter. "But Neal's acting really weird, and it's got nothing to do with Kate, or that music box. It's got something to do with Doctor Reid, from the Behavioural Analysis Unit. That team we're working with on this case. I don't know what it is. And I don't know what to do about it, either."
"I don't think there's anything you can do, sweetie," said Elizabeth soothingly. Peter looked at her, shocked. "Unless Neal is going to do something that could land him back in prison, he needs to work this out on his own."
"I guess you're right," Peter relented, standing up to leave and putting on his jacket. "I just hope he can work this out on his own."
Peter had fully intended to listen to his wife, and do what she had suggested about Neal. Really, he had. But when Neal showed up for work that morning, he was unusually quiet and subdued. His eyes didn't follow any of the female agents that passed him, he didn't flash anyone his usual, charming grin, and he definitely didn't do anything he shouldn't have been doing. He just walked into the office, his head down and the case file in hand, and headed into the meeting room without a word.
Peter walked into the room after Neal, but it took the con artist a while to notice that his boss was standing next to him. "Hey, Neal-" Peter began, but before he could ask him anything, the BAU and Peter's two agents walked into the room, ready to begin working again.
Reid, after an interrupted night's sleep dreaming about things he definitely didn't want to be dreaming about, had managed to calm himself down a little from the surprises of the day before. He had promised himself as they left the hotel that morning that he would not let anything Neal said or did aggravate him, but at the same time he also knew that the two of them definitely needed to talk.
Now was not that time, though- they'd begun working, talking about their murderous con artist. They were all bouncing ideas and information off of each other, trying to figure out what their next course of action should be. Everyone, that is, except for Neal. No one was paying any attention to him other than Reid, who was watching him out of the corner of his eye. Neal was unusually silent, looking down at his hat as he twirled it in his hands. Reid was pretty sure he could guess what the other man was thinking about.
"It's like this guy is always going to be at least three step ahead of us," Jones sighed. "I mean, he's been around for ages and he's never been caught."
"You know, con artists in general have been around for a very long time," Reid said thoughtfully. He opened his mouth to say more, but stopped himself before he could go on one of his normal ramblings.
Morgan had to chuckle at that. "Oh come on then, Reid," he said. "I know you want to tell us."
Reid gave Morgan a small smile. "All right then," he said. "Con artists aren't exactly a new phenomenon. Back in the Medieval times doctors were selling treatments they knew wouldn't work, they even changed the cures depending on the economic standing of the individual. For example, they sold peasants a delightful cure of urine and toads for the Black Plague, yet the wealthy were sold powdered gemstones.
"Not only that, but many of them have also caused deaths. A Gregor MacGregor in England in the 1800s mocked up a fake map of 'his kingdom' Poyois and sold island real estate to over 500 people from more than one country. Of the first boatload of people that went to 'their' island, very few ever came back.
"Ok, so maybe they weren't deliberate deaths and there was no malicious intent other than the removal of money from gullible nobles, but he didn't stop the scams once the few that did survive returned. He continued to sell and, in their ignorance, the survivors defended him, not believing that he could lie to them about something so large. They truly believed he was an honest man and he played on that belief and continued to profit from it, despite how many people had to suffer for it."
When Reid had finished speaking, the other members of the BAU had bemused looks on their faces, while Peter, Diana and Jones were stunned. Neal, however, was grinning at Reid, shaking his head as if to say that's so typical.
"How on earth did you know that?" Peter asked.
"We don't how he knows most of the things he knows," said Prentiss. "And he could probably tell you anything about anything."
Neal was still shaking his head in amusement at Reid's extensive knowledge. Nobody was paying any attention to Neal as they were all too busy watching Reid, but the genius himself could see Neal out of the corner of his eye.
"Well, as greatly impressed as I am by your agent's knowledge," said Peter, his sincerity obvious, "I want to go out and visit this guy, Travis Palmer. He worked rather closely with our vic at her marketing firm." He looked over at Neal, who once again bore his usual charming grin. "Neal, I could use your help this time."
"Great, I can finally get out of this office," said Neal happily, rising to his feet and settling his hat perfectly on his head.
"Reid, why don't you go with them," Hotch suggested. "We could use a profiler's eye when interviewing Palmer, just in case."
Reid nodded. "On it." He rose to his feet too, following Peter and Neal out of the building and into their car.
"You know, I'm curious," Peter said to Reid as they drove. "How is it that you know so much?"
"I have an IQ of 187, I can read 20,000 words per minute, and I have an eidetic memory," Reid explained. "So I remember everything I've ever read."
"Wow," said Peter, unable to say anything else. "So you're a genius, then."
"Pretty much, yeah," said Reid, very matter-of-fact. "I graduated from high school when I was 12."
"Better than Neal here," Peter laughed. "He didn't even finish high school."
Neal shifted uncomfortably in the front passenger seat. "That wasn't through lack of ability," he reminded Peter. "I'm not really suited to the traditional classroom setting."
Both Peter and Reid were saved from answering by their arrival at Travis Palmer's workplace. "This could be interesting," Peter mused. "I really don't know what this guy's going to give us."
"Even if he doesn't think he knows anything, or knows anything of significance, he may still know something that can help us," Reid said. "Any little piece of information can help us build our profile."
Peter looked thoughtful. "Let's go talk to him and see what we can find out, shall we?"
The two agents and the con artist walked up the stairs and through the double doors into the building. They walked up to the front desk, where Peter and Reid flashed their badges. "I'm Agent Peter Burke, and this is Dr Spencer Reid," said Peter.
"And I'm Neal Caffrey, CI extraordinaire," Neal added, causing Peter to respond with an angry glare.
"We need to talk to Travis Palmer," Reid told the receptionist.
"Is this about Sally?" the receptionist asked, picking up the office phone.
Peter nodded. "We understand Mr Palmer worked closely with her?"
"She worked with a few people here," the receptionist replied. "But it was Travis she worked most closely with, yes."
"Did you know her?" Reid asked.
"Not well," the receptionist admitted. "We didn't really work together that much. But she was a really nice person. I was sad to lose her." The receptionist spoke into the phone for a few moments, before looking up at the three men. "Travis is waiting for you in his office," she announced. "Second on the left."
"Thank you," said Peter, leading the other two to the office the receptionist had indicated. Peter knocked on the second door on the left, like they had been told, and the man sitting at the desk immediately looked up.
"FBI, right?" he said. Peter nodded. "Please, have a seat." Peter and Reid sat down in the two seats in front of Travis's desk, while Neal began looking around the room. "I understand you're here about the death of Sally Weston, yes?"
"Yes, we are," said Peter. "We have been told that you worked rather closely with Miss Weston."
"I did work with her quite a bit, yes," Travis agreed. "Sally did some work for a number of us around here, but I was the one who she did the most work for."
"And why is that?" Peter asked.
"She was good at her job," Travis replied simply.
"There was nothing else?" said Peter.
"No, that was it," said Travis.
"Did you know her personally?" Peter continued. "Outside of work, I mean."
"No, not at all," said Travis, looking down at his papers on his desk. "Sally was a very quiet woman. Kept to herself. The only thing we ever talked about was work."
"Alright," said Peter, rising from his seat, Reid following. He held out his hand, which Travis shook. "Thank you for your time."
"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help," said Travis as the three men left the room.
"Seems he really wasn't that much help to us," said Neal once they had left the building.
"He was lying," Reid said instantly, drawing stunned looks from both Peter and Neal.
"How could you tell?" Peter asked, curious.
"It's part of profiling," Reid replied as they climbed into the car and headed off. "We learn to read people's body language. And Travis Palmer's tells me he was lying."
"Lying about what?" Neal asked.
"He knew Sally better than he was letting on," said Reid. "Did you see how he looked down at his work as soon as Agent Burke asked if he knew the victim personally? He was lying about that."
"So he knows more than he was letting on," Peter realised. "He could know something about Miss Weston's killer."
"He could," Reid agreed. "Hotch will know what to do about that one."
It wasn't long until the three men arrived back at the FBI office, where the others were waiting for them. "What did you find out?" Hotch asked.
"Palmer claimed that he didn't know anything about the victim besides the work she did with him," Reid told everyone.
"You sound like you don't believe him," said Rossi.
"I don't," said Reid. "He was lying. He knows more than he was letting on."
"I still don't know how Doctor Reid here saw it," Peter said. "I honestly believe that Palmer was telling the truth, but once Reid explained it to me, I realised he was right. Palmer knows more about Miss Weston than he was letting on. Maybe even something that could help us with this case. Diana, I think you should keep an eye on him."
"Got it," Diana said.
"I'll get Garcia to look into him as well," Morgan said. "Maybe she can find something."
Everyone moved around the room working, but as they did so Neal suddenly appeared beside Reid. "I see you haven't changed at all," he whispered in the genius's ear, so quiet that nobody else could hear him.
Reid turned around to face Neal quickly, shushing him quietly. "We'll talk about this later," he hissed hurriedly. Neal didn't care about Reid's apparent anger, though; he flashed him a grin before going to talk to Peter.
Reid left the FBI that day deep in thought, feeling quite unsure about what to do. He fished in his pocket for the keys to the SUV, but he pulled out a slip of paper instead. Written on that piece of paper were a phone number and an address, nothing else. There was no name written there, but Reid didn't need one. He knew who had put the paper there: Neal.
He hasn't changed a bit, either, Reid thought to himself. And as he climbed into the car, he couldn't help but smile.
A/N: A lot of you asked about the secret box that Neal has and what's inside, and I'm sorry for not revealing that this time. But fret not- it will be revealed in the next chapter! :P But how did you like this one, anyway? Good enough for a review?
Note from Diamond Cobra: "I did all the smart sounding Reid stuff. Did I do good?"
