When the phone rang, it cut through a silence that was almost visible in its tension, and everyone jumped. Peter forced himself to take a deep breath, waiting until the tech gave him the sign before picking up the cell that had been left in his car.
"Keller." Why bother with pleasantries?
'Burkie! So good to hear your voice.'
"Cut the crap, Keller. Let me speak to Elizabeth."
'Awww, no time to shoot the breeze? Catch up on old times?'
"We don't have any old times to catch up on."
'Well, can't blame a guy for trying.'
"You have my wife. I want to talk to her."
'Let's talk about what you can do for me first.'
"I talk to my wife, or there's nothing to talk about. And what I'll do is hunt you wherever you might go."
'Well, at least you have some guts, unlike your golden boy Caffrey.'
"Neal has more courage than a lowlife like you could ever understand," Peter growled. "But we're not talking about Neal – we're talking about my wife. I want to talk to her."
'You got people trying to track this call, Burkie?'
Peter knew there was no sense lying. "Yes."
'Well, I guess we're coming up on the time limit then. I'll call back a little later, and put pretty little Lizzie on the line. And then you better be ready to negotiate.'
"Keller…"
But the line was dead.
"He's playing with you," Diana said, breaking the silence that had filled the room again.
"But he's calling back, with Elizabeth," Jones added.
Peter nodded and then looked to the tech, who was still fiddling with the equipment. "No trace?"
The man shook his head. "There wasn't time to triangulate the signal."
"Yeah." Peter digested that for a moment before turning to Diana. "Text Neal with an update." He looked back down at the phone that was still in his hand. "It's a blocked number, so no help there."
There was a heartbeat to the city, a rhythm that made it go. Actually, several different rhythms, Neal decided, as he walked through the darkened streets.
There was the rhythm of Broadway, and Times Square. Theater, arts, light and spectacle. Wall Street had its workday hustle and bustle, the Village a more relaxed pace.
And then there were the streets he walked now, the underbelly of the city. As the song said, New York never truly slept, and nowhere was that more true than here where the denizens of the grayer areas held court.
All right, some weren't even very gray, more like midnight black.
His phone warbled, signaling a text message. First contact from Keller. Calling back for PoL. No trace, no number.
Well, at least they had contact, and if Peter hadn't talked to Elizabeth yet, there would be no negotiation. That meant he still had some time.
He texted a quick response to Diana, and then turned down a side street. Mozzie had a possible lead, and they had a meeting set.
Peter stood at the window, stretching out stiff muscles, as he watched the rising sun change the character of the street out front. Dark turned to light, shadows shifted, squirrels ran from tree to tree, birds were singing.
The sun came into the living room as well, brightening the physical space, if not the mood. And something caught the ray of sun, glistening on the table.
Peter walked over there, looking at the light shining on his keys. He didn't remember setting them there. In fact he distinctly recalled simply dropping them into his pocket as he'd run in from the car. Of course, in the confusion, they could have fallen out…
He looked closer, and swore softly. "Shit!"
Diana was closest, and she looked over. "Peter?"
He picked up the keys, shaking them. "The key to Neal's tracking anklet. It's gone."
"You don't really think he's running, do you?" Jones asked from the table.
"Peter, he wants to find Elizabeth as much as anyone does," Diana said.
Conflicting emotions were at war inside Peter's head. He wanted to believe Diana, that Neal was out there looking for Elizabeth as he'd said. But there was still that small part of his brain that was screaming that this was all Neal's fault, and maybe the man had taken advantage of the situation to leave while they were all distracted. "Jones, check the tracking data. Is the anklet online?"
Jones busied himself on the laptop, and a moment later had a report. "It's showing online, at June's address." He tapped a few more keys. "Actually, it's been there since last night, after Neal left here."
"Damn it!" Peter reached for his cell phone, his fingers automatically finding the speed dial for Neal's number. But the call went straight to voice mail. "Neal, I need you to call me immediately when you get this," he said, his voice tight. He disconnected the call and looked over at his agents. "Jones, get over to Caffrey's place, see if he's really there. I'm betting that he isn't, and if so, see if there are any clues as to where he went."
"Right." Jones grabbed his jacket and headed out the door.
"He probably just didn't want to be tracked where he was going," Diana offered, the voice of reason. "There's no way he'd run out on Elizabeth."
And oh, how Peter wanted to believe that… "I hope you're right," he said. "I really hope you're right."
Finding the muscle hired by Keller was like piecing together a puzzle – a puzzle with a million small, almost identical pieces to put into place. Neal and Mozzie followed the trail, picking up a piece here, a piece there, and putting them all together as they got closer to the final picture.
It was almost as though nothing had happened between them, nothing had interrupted their happy ending. They worked together well, as they had always done since that first chance meeting over Find the Lady years ago. Since then, very few things had managed to stump them when they worked together.
And yet, there was something different, something off. Neal felt it, and it made him sad. Nothing would stop them from finding Elizabeth, not even the choices Neal had made hours before.
But knowing that this might well be the last time he and Mozzie worked together just put an additional weight on his shoulders as they followed their leads through the darkness. When they found Elizabeth, Mozzie would be gone.
Failing to find her, however, was not an option. Because Neal had made his choice, and Peter had won.
Peter pounced on the phone when it rang, only realizing that it was his own cell phone after he snatched it up. "Yes."
'Peter, I'm here at Neal's.'
"Jones." Peter took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "And?"
'The tracker's here – Neal's not.'
"Damn it!"
'There's a note, addressed to you.'
"Read it," Peter ordered. Would it be Neal's farewell, the final nail in the coffin…
There was the sound of paper rustling, and then Jones began to read.
'Peter – I know you'll be disappointed that I slipped the tracker, but please try to understand. I can't afford to risk the questions it might raise in the places I need to go to tonight. If you have ever trusted me about anything, please believe that I am not running. My only goal is to do everything I can to find Elizabeth – to right this wrong that I have caused. When this is over, I promise to turn myself in. I hope you can believe that, and not waste agents trying to find me when there are more important leads for them to follow. Neal.'
Peter sighed, staring down at his feet. Neal…
'Peter, do you want me to call the marshals?'
Peter couldn't help but smile, just a little, at the hesitant tone of Jones' voice – the agent obviously didn't think that was a very good idea, but he needed to offer it. And Peter found that the decision came fairly easily to him. "No, don't call the marshals. I believe him when he says he isn't running. Look, it's been a long night, Jones. If you want to head home…"
'No way. I'll be back over at your place shortly.'
"Thanks, Jones," Peter whispered, disconnecting the call. Then he looked at the other member of his team. "Diana, if you want to…"
"Don't even suggest that I go home," she said firmly, cutting him off. "Not gonna happen."
Peter shrugged in defeat, even as a small smile touched his face. "I had to try," he said. Even if he had known the outcome ahead of time. Because the truth was, he had the best team he could imagine.
Elizabeth heard the steps coming closer, and she opened her eyes, watching as Keller walked up, phone in hand.
"All right," he said. "We're going to call your loving husband, let him know you're all right. Then him and me, we can get down to business." He crouched down, reaching out to grab her hair and pull her head back. "Don't try to pull any tricks," he warned as he took the gag off.
Elizabeth just nodded – though she wished she had a trick or two to pull. Having been blindfolded when she came in, she couldn't tell Peter anything about the part of town they were in or, honestly, if they were even still in New York. And all she could see of the building was the room she was in. The windows were shuttered, so no help there.
Keller was dialing a number. "Burkie…"
Peter struggled to keep his emotions in check as he answered the phone. "Let me speak to my wife."
'All in good time. What are you prepared to give me in exchange?'
"You get nothing until I know my wife is all right." There was no reply from the other end, just a shuffling noise, and for that long moment Peter wondered if he had pushed too far…
'Peter?'
Oh, sweet lord… "El! Honey, are you all right?"
'I'm fine, for now. Peter, he…'
Elizabeth's muffled gasp had Peter clenching the phone so tightly his knuckles hurt. "Elizabeth!"
'I'm afraid she can't come back to the phone right now, Burkie.'
"Keller, so help me…"
'This really ain't the time you should be threatening me. And I figure our time is just about up again. So until the next call, I suggest you convince your boy Caffrey to share. He was becoming quite the little junior g-man, so that shouldn't be too hard to do.'
"Keller…"
But the line had gone dead.
It wasn't surprising to find the message from Peter when he turned his phone back on. No, the real surprise was that there was only one…
"Peter…"
'Quite a trick, Neal. Lifting my keys, taking the one to your anklet.'
"Did you find my note?"
'Jones did. Neal, I'm trusting that you're still in New York, and that you're really looking for Elizabeth. If I find out that you're not…'
"Peter, I am. In fact, I just sent Diana an address. She'll find one of the men who snatched Elizabeth there." He paused, glancing over to where Mozzie was just finishing the last knot. "We'll leave the door open, so she shouldn't knock. Skip here is… a little tied up, at the moment."
'Does he know where Keller is?'
"No. He and another guy were dropped off when the driver stopped to pick Keller up. But we have a possible lead on the driver."
'Diana's on her way to the address you sent. Do you want back-up where you're going?'
"We're still pretty far from official here, Peter," Neal said carefully. "But Skip is wearing some tomato sauce on his pants that will probably match what was on the floor at your house." He followed Mozzie out into the hallway of the nearly abandoned building and they started toward the stairs. "Where do we stand with Keller?"
'I talked to Elizabeth about fifteen minutes ago. She was fine then.'
Neal sighed in relief. "That's great, Peter."
'He's being very careful about keeping the calls short so we can't triangulate the signal. He said the next call we'll talk about what he wants.'
"Really, he's worried about triangulation?"
'That's what he said. Why, what are you thinking?'
"Well, Keller isn't much of a tech guy himself, but he must not have much help on this. It's not that hard to scramble the phone signal so it can't be traced."
"Any half-way intelligent amateur could do it," Mozzie added, loud enough to be heard over the phone.
'So he's running a lean operation.'
"Kind of sounds like it," Neal agreed. "All right, we have a couple more leads to check out. Look, when Keller calls back, tell him…" He paused, looking for the best angle. "Tell him the art got moved out of state for safe-keeping. I'm working on bringing it back. That'll buy us a little more time."
'It also keeps Elizabeth in Keller's hands that much longer.'
"But as long as he knows you'll insist on talking to her again before any exchange, she'll be safe," Neal pointed out. "Peter, if he thinks he's safe, and you've agreed to a plan…"
'He has no reason to keep El alive.'
"So give him that reason, Peter. Buy me a little more time, and we'll get him."
By mid-day they had found a second kidnapper. This one didn't know the final location either, but he had worked with the driver before and knew more than just a nickname. And, more importantly, while they'd been waiting, he had memorized the license plate number on the van.
Neal texted the address to Diana – another pick-up to be made.
Mozzie started the word on the street about a reward for finding the van.
And more pieces fell into place.
Keller raged and fumed, but Peter held firm. The treasure was being brought back to New York, and any exchange would have to wait until that was done.
Any exchange would have to be accompanied by proof that Elizabeth was still alive.
Keller's chilling laugh in reply made Peter shiver long after the call was ended.
