"Ah, Mr. Andrews," James Myers said as he extended his hand. "Please, sit down."
"Thank you, Mr. Myers. You have a very fine office," Neal said, sitting down in a seat across from a large desk. He unconsciously shifted his leg out of habit, to hide the anklet he wasn't wearing. After so long, it felt strange not to have it on.
"Thank you." He leaned back, steepling his fingers. "You came very highly recommended, Mr. Andrews. I hope you live up to your reputation." Neal was only able to smile in a reassuring, carefree fashion thanks to much practice.
"I will, sir. You can be certain of that." And the pressure goes up.
They spoke for a few moments about Myers' current financial issues. The man knew about the embezzlement (he'd been the one to report it, obviously), but he had no idea that was why Neal was there or who was suspected in the fraud. So he didn't mention anything about it to Neal, simply stating he wanted to improve gross profits. Then a knock came on the door.
"Come in," Myers said, looking at the well-made wooden door with raised eyebrows. "Hello, Don." Don Mitchell entered. He was a short, balding man with an air of false servility, and his smile was smarmy. Neal instantly didn't like him, but still had to nod politely as Myers introduced him.
"Mr. Andrews, this is my associate Don Mitchell. Don, this is my new financial consultant Michael Andrews." Neal extended his hand and Mitchell took it with disdain Neal knew he was supposed to see.
"Mr. Andrews."
"Mr. Mitchell, good to meet you," Neal said with the proper amount of polite respect in his voice. Mitchell sat down in the chair next to Myers and the Corporate manager continued.
"Don, Mr. Andrews and I were just discussing the best way to increase profits," Myers said. "The state of the company's finances right now is simply unacceptable." Neal watched Mitchell discreetly but intently during this, and a slight change came over the man. His hands tightened on his knees and his expression slipped.
"I see," Mitchell said, nodding composedly. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Everyone can do something," Myers assured him. "That's part of what Mr. Andrews is here to help with." Mitchell nodded again obligingly, and the conversation continued. Neal made sure to note what caused certain reactions in Mitchell. There were a lot. The man certainly was twitchy, possibly even more so than Mozzie.
"Thank you," Myers said what felt like an eternity later. He stood and shook hands with Neal again. "It sounds like you will be a great help to our company. I'd like to set up a meeting with more of my executive managers." Before Neal could respond positively or negatively he continued, "Say, tomorrow at ten o'clock, here."
"I'll be here, sir," Neal assured him, pushing his chair back in lightly as he walked to the door.
As the thick door closed behind him, Neal hovered for just a moment to see if he could catch any snippets of conversation from the office. Unfortunately the sound was too muffled by the door and walls.
"Yes, sir, I'm delivering it to him now." A woman's voice floated around the corner and Neal started walking down the stairs. Getting caught eavesdropping was probably not the best idea at this point. He gave the woman a smile and nod as they passed each other and she smiled back shyly. Neal continued walking until he made it out of the building and let out a breath.
He checked his watch and started down the street, wanting to grab a bit to eat before he went back to FBI headquarters for the meeting.
"You're still alive," a voice observed from behind him. Neal jumped and turned around to see Mozzie looking at him with a cup of coffee clutched in one hand.
"Not the best way to greet someone, Moz," Neal said, faintly irritated but still relieved. Mozzie shrugged and handed him a danish. "Thanks." Neal smiled slightly.
"You're welcome." Mozzie started walking again, Neal staying next to him. "So how'd it go?"
"Fine," Neal said with a shrug, taking a bite of the danish. He swallowed and continued, "Mitchell was there. He was... twitchy."
"Myers doesn't know he's the suspect, right?" Mozzie asked. "I read the file."
"No, he doesn't." Neal gave Mozzie a curious look. "Did you just come to see if I survived?"
"No," Mozzie said. "I got some information on Mitchell that might interest you."
"Really?" Neal raised his eyebrows.
"Yep. He's definitely got some stuff he doesn't want coming to light. He's got megabytes of encrypted files on his personal computer, and he has a safe that no one but him is registered to, not even his wife."
"And you found this out how?"
Mozzie gave him a look as if to say, It's me we're talking about.
"Right." Neal finished the danish and checked his phone again. "I'd better head back to FBI headquarters."
"You have a meeting with The Suit?" Mozzie asked disdainfully.
"A lot of them, actually."
"Hmph. Good luck."
"Thanks, Moz. I'll see you later."
"We hope."
Neal rolled his eyes, amused in spite of himself as he hailed a cab.
xxxxx
"Where is Caffrey?" Hughes asked impatiently, checking his watch.
"Somebody say my name?" Neal poked his head through the door and grinned.
"Neal." Peter half-smiled and leaned back in his chair. "You're late."
"New York traffic," Neal said, shrugging with a What can you do? look.
"Sit down," Hughes said. "We've got to get this started." Peter watched as Neal sat down next to him and leaned back, waiting.
"How did the meeting with Myers go?" Hughes asked, resuming his seat at the head of the conference table.
"He seemed like he was satisfied with my cover," Neal said. "He didn't question it at all."
"And he didn't mention anything about the suspected embezzlement?" Diana asked.
"No." Neal gave a smile. "He said he was experiencing financial difficulties, but nothing about the reasons. Like I said, to him I'm just a simple financial consultant." Peter grinned slightly at this.
"Did you see Mitchell?" Hughes asked with raised eyebrows.
"Yes, actually. He came in and joined the meeting," Neal said. Peter turned to face him curiously. Neal nodded. "Just after Myers and I started talking he came in. Myers introduced us. Even if I didn't know he was a suspect I wouldn't trust him."
"So he seems suspicious?" Jones asked.
"Very. And when Myers was talking about how the finances didn't really make sense, he was very jumpy."
"So we've definitely got our suspect, but no evidence yet," Hughes said. Neal shifted. Peter shot him a glance but Neal shook his head almost imperceptibly. Peter narrowed his eyes, silently promising Neal that he'd ask later.
"I want you all on this. Look into Mitchell." Hughes stood up.
"Oh," Neal said, lifting one hand slightly. Hughes nodded for him to continue. "Myers wants another meeting, tomorrow morning at ten."
"Good. Maybe by then we'll have something on Mitchell." Hughes started leaving the conference room. "Come back here again when you're done tomorrow, Caffrey."
"You got it," Neal said with another smile. He stood up and followed Peter to the agent's office.
"So." Peter closed the glass door behind them and sat down at his desk. "What aren't you telling us?"
"It's nothing concrete," Neal said, sitting across from Peter. "I didn't want to share it until I was sure."
"Share anyway." Peter's voice was dry but not angry. He'd learned by this point that Neal usually knew what evidence was pertinent to a case. Usually. But sometimes he didn't choose the best time to bring it out.
"Well, Moz started looking into Mitchell. He says Mitchell's definitely hiding something, but he doesn't have any proof. Yet," he added when Peter gave him a skeptical look.
"Okay," Peter said, raising his eyebrows. "Well, while he's working on that, we'll look into Mitchell the good old-fashioned way." Peter watched with amusement as Neal let out a long-suffering sigh.
"More reading files?"
Peter nodded in confirmation, smiling at Neal's half-petulant tone and expression. So far it appeared that Neal was feeling better. Or he's just hiding it better, Peter reminded himself. "I think you'll live," he said, handing over a few files he'd grabbed. "Start with these."
"Yes, sir," Neal said with a mocking grin. The office was mostly silent as the two of them sifted through files, Peter occasionally using the computer. After about an hour, Neal started fidgeting. After two hours, he was letting out intermittent sighs and kept tapping things in sporadic morse code. I'm bored. Files are never interesting. Potato salad.
Is he hungry or something? Peter wondered, pretending not to hear the messages. Maybe that way he'll stop.
No luck there. Neal continued tapping out his boredom. Peter, this is-
"Okay," Peter said, tossing down his file. It was very difficult to concentrate with a bored Neal Caffrey around. "I think we're done for tonight."
"Aw, are you sure?" Neal grinned at Peter, setting down the file with no reluctance.
"Yeah, I'm sure. Go home."
"Sounds good to me," Neal said. "Say hello to Elizabeth for me."
"I will," Peter promised. They both entered the elevator and then went out to the front of the building. As Neal hailed a cab and started toward it, Peter stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Neal. Is everything alright with you?"
Surprise flashed in those blue eyes before Neal grinned disarmingly. "Everything's great. I'm touched that you'd ask, Peter." Neal tipped his fedora as he got into the cab. "Good night."
"Good night." Peter stood there for a moment, watching the cab drive away. He knew Neal was lying. Lying very well, perhaps, but still lying. I'll ask again tomorrow. And he walked toward his car, yawning as he dialed Elizabeth to let her know he was on his way home.
A/N: So, everything making sense so far? Sometimes I don't even make sense to myself, so let me know if you're puzzled. Thanks for the reviews so far! I appreciate them!