Neal, irritated that Peter had noticed his limping, (he had stepped wrong out of the shower that morning, aggravating the injury) stomped downstairs (in order to show Peter it didn't hurt) to the first floor, furiously thinking of ways to convince his partner to allow them to stay longer when Bettina emerged from the living room. "Well, hello, sweetie pie. You cub scouts found the diamond yet?"

Neal stiffened at her tone but smiled back. "No, not yet. I'm beginning to think somebody got to it first."

"Really?" Bettina said, striding to the corner bar in the library. Getting a glass down, she remarked, "If I were a suspicious person, I'd be wondering about you, sweet cheeks. I mean, you're the one with the record here, you know. Not to be indelicate to mention it, of course." She held up another glass.

Shaking his head no, Neal replied, "I know your late husband thought the same. Not to be insensitive, of course."

Bettina actually flinched, just a bit. "You are a bastard, aren't you?"

"Oh," Neal affected his most concerned look. "I am so sorry. But to tell the truth, I really wasn't sure how much you are grieving. Or maybe you're just really stoic."

"I don't have to explain anything to you, you cheap punk!" Bettina snapped, slamming down her glass on the bar. "Where's your leash holder, anyway? Shouldn't he be here to make you sit, stay and beg?"

"Ah," Neal smiled ingratiatingly, "and here I thought you wanted to be friends."

Bettina shrugged. "You're a pretty thing, there's no doubt about that. But I couldn't take you out in public, dearie. Not with your background. Every time a silver spoon went missing, people would talk – and look at you."

Neal's eyes glinted coldly but his expression never wavered from blandly pleasant. "You're right. I just wouldn't fit in with all those honest working people." He noted with satisfaction the way the woman's face hardened with anger. "However, I came down to find out if JJJ has returned yet?"

A recessed section of the wall that held a couple of built in decorative shelves swung open noiselessly behind Neal. Turning, he saw John Jameson step out, a deadly looking shotgun in his hand. "I'm right here, Caffrey."

WC WC WC

"So, where is my diamond, you thieving little bastard?" JJJ hissed.

Bettina threw him a look. "Our diamond, John. We agreed to share," she corrected. "Especially after Danny's tragic accident." Her tone was icy.

Jameson ignored her, keeping the gun leveled at Neal. "One other question: is Burke in this with you or is he just a stooge?"

Neal had raised his hands when JJJ jabbed the gun at him but, despite the circumstances, he couldn't help but smile. "Oh, please be sure and tell Peter you think he's my stooge. He'll really get a chuckle out of that."

JJJ strode over and clouted Neal on the side of the head with the gun butt, never changing expression. The conman staggered down to one knee, seeing stars. He put a hand up to his face, grimacing when he saw blood on it. Again? This is ridiculous!

"I'm not joking around here, you fool!" Jameson hissed. "This whole thing has been the final insult of my senile old father. The joke has stopped now, right here. I'm not about to let some punk thief and his stupid FBI handler take what's mine. I know you must have it by now; I've been watching. Give it here!" Shifting the gun to one hand, he suddenly struck Neal a savage blow to the stomach.

On his knees, wheezing, Neal muttered, "You work it out."

Bettina laughed. "Isn't he just darling?"

JJJ raised the gun. "He'll be just as darling dead, Betts."

"Drop it, Jameson. Right now I'll take any excuse you want to give me to fire."

Agent Peter Burke stood in the doorway, gun leveled at John Jameson with a cold light in his eyes.

JJJ carefully lowered the gun to the floor. "Agent Burke, we found this man pilfering our possessions!"

Looking at Neal's bloodied head, Peter got very angry. "Yeah, I see you took action. And now I'll take some. Raise your hands and turn around. You too, Bettina. Now!"

Neal stayed kneeling on the floor, gasping for air, the world spinning dizzily as Peter brought out his handcuffs.

Suddenly another bookcase in the wall swung open and a huge man with a disfigured face and filthy clothes charged in the room, taking aim at Peter, whose back was to that section. The agent was turning when he heard the noise but the bearded man slammed into him first, ramming his injured shoulder into the wall. There was a sharp muffled groan from Peter and the big man pinned him with a large hand on his throat. His left hand easily encircled Peter's right wrist and slammed it repeatedly into the wall, finally forcing Peter to drop the Glock in the process.

The big man proceeded to pummel the agent with hard blows to the face and midsection. Peter fought back for a while and did sting the man with a few sharp punches. But the bearded man shook off the pain and went back to slugging Peter, whose blows were grower weaker. Finally he hung limp against the man's left hand holding him up as the right continued to rain blows down on the agent.

Neal was galvanized into action when he saw blood coming from Peter's mouth, nose and a cut above one eye. He leapt on the huge man's back, tightening his arms around the man's neck and squeezing hard as he could. At first, Neal feared he was having no effect but the big man finally roared and swatted ineffectually behind him. Neal shrugged off the blows and tightened even more.

He could hear JJJ IV bellowing in the background and Bettina also began to stir. The big man finally dropped Peter, who slid bonelessly to the floor, bleeding profusely. Neal, enraged, gripped even harder. He could hear the voices of Vincent Adler, Mozzie and even Peter in his mind, telling him not to lose his head, but at this point Neal didn't care about playing the percentages or keeping cool. He only knew that sometime during his fantasy treasure hunt everything had turned into life and death. From his peripheral vision he could see Jameson watching with a self-satisfied smile. Bettina, however, looked a bit jumpy and strangely smug, seeing the battle unfold in front of her.

Neal felt the man scratch furiously at his back and neck, seeking to get some hold. Unfortunately, he came up with Neal's jacket collar and clutching that tightly, managed to get enough leverage to suddenly grasp Neal and toss him over his shoulder. The young man landed hard on the floor, winded, and close to Peter, who wasn't moving. Crawling over to his partner, Neal, gasping for air, tried to shake Peter awake. In his desperation, he even grabbed the bad shoulder but Peter still didn't move.

"Johnny! Take care of Mr. Caffrey. He's about to have a tragic accident off the seaside cliff path." John Joseph Jameson IV regained the shotgun and held it on Neal as he barked orders to what must be left of his son, John Joseph Jameson V. The younger Jameson, whose bearded face was disfigured to the point of hideousness, reached down and effortlessly picked up Neal by the collar and held him with an arm painfully wrenched up behind his back. "When you finish, you can come back for Agent Burke and do the same. It will be a horrible story, how an FBI agent and his confidential consultant fell off a treacherous path in the dark. They had a falling out over their larcenous plans and, chasing each other in the dark, they lost their footing."

Bettina shrugged. "A bit melodramatic, Johnny."

"You want to explain their bodies?" John suddenly grinned, salaciously. "I understand Burke is married," he addressed Neal. "How tragic for his wife. Is she pretty?" JJJ had a repulsive light of interest in his eyes. "Perhaps I could comfort her in her loss."

Bettina rolled her eyes. Neal wanted to smack the man for his leering inquiry about Elizabeth but was unable to move. "She's way out of your league, Jameson," he wheezed.

Bettina however, had no problem communicating. "Oh, this is just fine, John. You go off and kill a low rent criminal (despite his pounding head and throbbing arm, Neal looked insulted) and an FBI agent and for what? We still don't have the damn diamond, you moron! And Junior here has been a loose cannon from the start, and he was bad back then. You let him out and he killed Danny, just because he could never control his temper, before or after the accident."

"That isn't my fault," John Jr. said defensively. "You weren't too upset with the idea of half of share, compared to trying to get some money out of Daniel. I only meant for John Jr. to scare him; he just doesn't know his own strength, that's all." He gestured at Peter on the floor. "This guy is supposed to be the FBI's best and brightest! If he's the best, no wonder crime is out of control in this country! He and this… person," John sputtered when he looked at Neal, who was blinking and trying to come up with a plan, "have pawed through this house for days and found nothing. They're pathetic!" A crafty look came over JJJ's face. "Or they have taken the diamond for themselves!"

Jameson's loud voice must have penetrated Peter's haze of pain, because the agent groaned. Neal looked on hopefully. Bettina snapped, "You'd better get a move on, oaf. The other one will be awake before your son's knuckles can drag the ground fast enough to get this one out!"

"Don't you speak to my son that way, you harlot! You only married into this family for the money and you were bitterly disappointed when you discovered there wasn't any!"

Bettina gave him an insolent look. "Well, it certainly wasn't for the sex!"

John colored an ugly shade of red. "You bitch!" He strode over and slapped her.

Bettina staggered and suddenly produced a gun out of her dress pocket. A tiny little derringer type but deadly at the close range. "I've wanted to do this for a long time, you bastard!" She pulled the trigger and John IV suddenly fell back with a bloody hole in his chest.

"Why, you ungrateful slut," Jameson slurred. "You were nothing without us. You…." Despite the look of hatred on his face, John Jameson IV could not go on. With a final shuddering breath, he subsided, eyes still open, staring at Bettina Wilde.

"Taking everything is even better than half share," Bettina said with great satisfaction to the unmoving body on the floor. She looked like she could barely restrain herself from kicking the man who was now a corpse. "You were always so ashamed of your son. You wouldn't get any plastic surgery for him after the accident. And he always was a psychotic idiot!" She hissed in a low voice at the newly deceased John Jameson IV.

John model V as Peter had christened him, released Neal, shrieking his rage. He rushed to fall on the floor beside his father, sobbing, "Daddy!" over and over.

Bettina watched, unimpressed. "I've wanted to be free of you and Danny for so long," she said venomously, still staring at the man who no longer was breathing. "You two, still living like kings on yesterday's memories! The things I had to do just to get my share; you were disgusting! I hate you both, now and forever!"

Neal, stunned by this sudden turn of events, took the opportunity to jostle Peter again. "Peter! Peter, wake up!" He had never dreamed his diamond hunt would include two murders – and maybe two more. He should have conned their way out of this, instead of demanding he and Peter be involved.

Peter did move his legs and groaned. Neal took his own shirt tail out and wiped the blood away from his friend's eye. "Peter, I need you!"

John V finally rose to his feet, rage on his face, facing Bettina. The lady however, instantly schooled her features from disgust to grieving. Even Neal had to reluctantly agree the mask was well done. "Oh, Johnny! What are we going to do? I didn't mean to shoot your Father! Not really; I was trying to fool these two. But now that FBI guy," she pointed to Peter, "will arrest us. We've got to get away from here before they throw you in jail again. You remember jail, don't you? Remember how terrible they were? Right before the accident, when that stupid woman said you attacked her. They locked you away, wouldn't give you any of your favorite foods and made fun of you! Called you the rich boy who was worthless! You don't want to go back there again! Let's just get rid of these two and we'll run away together. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Remember when you used to chase me around the house? We could do that again. But these two have to go. That young man is a friend of the FBI man. He is mad that you hurt his friend. He will stop us from going away together; he'll talk and we'll never see each other again. You have to take him outside. Get rid of him, just like you tried to do with that cat years ago. Remember? The cat who used to yowl all right and you caught him and tried to throw him off the cliff? Well, this one will try and scratch and fight you too. But this time you'll win, Johnny. Then, you'll come back and get this man who hit you and throw him off as well. You and I will go away together and they'll never find us again!" Bettina began to edge her frilly dress down her shoulder and smiled. A special smile that made John Jr. seem very happy as his eyes tracked down her body.

Neal shook Peter again, who stirred and struggled to open his eyes. Johnny lumbered toward them, a light of lust and rage in his tortured eyes. Neal stood up and backed away. "Hey, man. You know she isn't going away with you. I'll bet this isn't the first time she promised to, is it?" He was gratified to see the giant stop uncertainly at his words. "You see, she told my friend and I she would go with us as well. She lies, Johnny. She thinks you're too stupid to know it. But you can figure it out, can't you?"

In confusion, the giant turned to Bettina. She managed to coax some tears. "Oh, Johnny, you know I couldn't go with you before. That mean Danny, who used to tease you so badly, wouldn't let me. But Danny's dead now and he," she pointed at Peter, "forced me to shoot and I hit your Dad instead of him. You know I could never shoot straight. And sometimes your father just made me so angry! Remember how he used to make you so mad? But we can't let anyone stop us this time; not the FBI man or his friend. Only you listening to that young man's lies can mess everything up. Johnny, you know this man is a criminal, don't you? He lies for a living. Just goes around stealing people's things and telling lies. You should make him pay!"

Johnny lumbered toward Neal, who backed away uneasily. "Hey, remember she just said she hated your father! Right before she killed him."

"He's twisting my words, Johnny. He's lying again, to save himself and his friend. But you know better, don't you, Johnny?" Bettina licked her lips provocatively. "I've always been your friend, even when your father wasn't."

John V, in his dirty and bedraggled clothes, thought for a moment. It was obviously a painful process and Neal didn't know whether to be repulsed or feel pity. Johnny however, decided for him. Turning to Neal, he roared and charged, like the bull seeing the proverbial red flag.

"Liar!" He screamed.

Neal moved away from Peter, for fear they would step on him, and braced himself for the attack. The room was too cluttered to run. Besides, he would never leave Peter here alone and unprotected. Neal landed a blow on Johnny's ear – he was aiming for the eye but the force of the big man's charge forced his blow to land awry. He kept on punching but it was like striking rock; hard and unmoving. His hands hurt but the big man was unfazed. Soon Johnny was holding him by the throat, shaking him like a rat. The force of it rattled Neal's teeth. He tried to yell for Peter but nothing came out except agonized wheezing. He had the horrifying vision of Daniel Wilde in his head: was this how he died? And how badly had this giant, pathetic soul injured Peter? Neal had no time for careful deliberation however as Johnny threw him against the wall, picked him up roughly and threw him again. He landed a savage right hand to Neal's face and the conman felt his vision blur. Everything hurt so badly. Egged on by Bettina, Johnny approached again and Neal's stomach contracted in fear. He edged away but his legs were shaky at best. Reaching out, Johnny effortlessly snagged Neal by the arm and then locked around his throat again.

Finally, a voice Neal had been praying to hear spoke out, weaker than normal but still clear. "Stop it, Johnny. Let him go now!"

With a snarl, Johnny dropped the stunned Neal to the floor and turned to face a bloodied but furious FBI agent. Peter looked like he'd lost the war, but the Glock was back in his hand and his aim was steady. "I don't want to shoot, Johnny but I will. Now back off and put your hands in the air!" Risking a quick glance around, Peter looked startled to see John Jameson IV lying on the floor in a growing puddle of blood.

Immediately hiding her gun behind her back, Bettina said disinterestedly, "He has handcuffs, Johnny. He'll put them on you. Remember how you hated that when the Sheriff took you away that first time?"

With a roar of rage, Johnny at first stepped toward Peter, keeping the agent's attention on him. Peter glanced at Bettina but John V turned to Neal and reached down to yank the young man off the floor by his hair, turning to lock his hands around Neal's throat once again.

The Glock boomed painfully loud in the room and, with a shocked look, Johnny dropped Neal and turned toward Peter, clutching his shoulder and taking a shaky step. Peter held the gun steady, ready to shoot again at a moment's notice. "Come on; give it up. There's nowhere to go now."

Johnny staggered, eyes rolling back in his head, making pitiful moaning sounds, fell in a graceless heap.

For a split second there was silence. Neal tried to speak but still couldn't breathe properly. He tried pointing but Bettina quickly brought her gun forward and, snapped a quick shot at Peter. The agent had caught sight of the movement but pain slowed his reflexes and Bettina's gun went off first. Peter clutched his left arm, doubled over, his arm burning. Bettina fired again and this time Peter's right arm jerked and the Glock fell to the floor. The agent crashed to his knees, stunned, hurting and both arms bleeding.

The woman blew imaginary smoke from the barrel of her derringer and smiled. "Didn't even know I had a gun, did you, Super-Agent Burke?" She sighted the gun again as Peter struggled to reach his own gun and stay conscious. But Bettina held him at bay, sighting her gun right at his chest. "What's that line? Feel lucky?" She circled around the agent like a predator eying its prey. "You know, we could have had a few nights of fun together. But no; you are piously faithful to your wife. It really is quite sickening," she added, eyes never leaving Peter.

Peter knelt on the floor, uncertain of how he ended up there. Everything hurt like hell and his arms felt like they were on fire. His gun was so close, yet so far away. He glanced up at the woman who had stopped in front of him, holding her gun directly in front of him. "If you think I'd ever step down from my wife for you, you are delusional," he muttered, gathering his failing strength to make one last charge. Peter knew the odds were against him, big time. I'm sorry, El.

A groggy Neal observed his worst nightmare in front of him. He knew that look on Peter's face and any other time he'd back his play without question. But Peter had too many strikes against him already to make a suicidal leap into a yet another gunshot wound. Besides, Elizabeth would be grief stricken. Diana would be homicidal. Jones would disapprove. Moz would scoff but yet manage to convey disappointment that Neal hadn't done something.

And Neal Caffrey would be unable to live with himself, ever again.

Gathering every ounce of his strength, Neal suddenly sprang up from the floor and threw himself on the Bettina, who had continued to taunt his partner. She struggled, cursed and tried to rake his face with her nails but Neal overpowered her, forcing her to drop the gun by slamming her hand against a wooden table. He was so angry he couldn't care less if he'd broken her hand. He gratefully heard Peter's voice behind him. "Neal, can you hold her still?"

It was like trying to hold a wild cat but Neal, who saw everything in a red haze of rage, held on none too gently while Peter struggled to put the handcuffs on her left wrist, and then pulled her right arm over to a large table. "Drop her over here, Neal."

"Gladly," Neal replied and let go with a hard shove. Bettina fell to the floor where Neal pinned her; Peter snagged her right arm and locked the handcuff on it. The woman was now cuffed around a massive wooden table leg at an awkward angle, hands behind her. It would be impossible for her to lift the table enough to free herself, although neither Peter nor Neal were inclined to leave her alone to test the theory.

"You think you're so damn smart," Bettina hissed. "Well, how do you think it will look in the press, FBI hotshot? You just shot a mentally challenged man! I'll make sure they crucify you."

Neal turned to his partner, neither of them particularly steady on their feet. "Are you all right?"

Peter, who, along with having both arms bleeding and burning, was also having trouble seeing, gave his partner a sidelong look, laced with irony. "Oh, fine. How are you?" He asked formally.

"Doing well, thank you" Neal replied blithely, swabbing blood out of his own eye.

Bettina paused for a moment. "You two really are idiots!"

Peter gave a weary sigh. "After a day like this, I might even agree. But I'm in a bad mood right now because I really don't like being shot!" he added venomously.

Neal affected the philosophical approach. "However, we are not handcuffed to a table, so we're okay in the big scheme of things."

"When my lawyer gets done with you two, we'll see, you smart ass!" Bettina hissed, pulling her arms against the cuffs and the table leg. Despite her best intentions, an involuntary Ow came out of her mouth.

Peter painfully pulled out his cell phone and cursed. "It's broken."

Neal produced his and smiled when he observed it intact. "I'm all right."

"Go outside and call 911," Peter ordered. They heard Johnny shift behind them and softly moan. "Make it fast!"

Neal hated leaving Peter alone with these two, hesitated. "Are you sure you've got this?"

Peter weaved a bit but kept the gun steady, keeping a close watch on Johnny, who was pretty much out of it but beginning to twitch a bit. "I've got this." He paused, looking and feeling awful. Peter could not even begin to list what hurt the most. "Just hurry, Neal."

Neal sprinted as fast as his throbbing as his aching body would allow.

The local authorities made good time and arrived at the Jameson mansion within thirty minutes.

Neal had rushed back inside to help with guard duty in the meantime. John Jameson V had awakened, but was very confused by events and especially by Bettina screaming at him to free her. He did not move when Peter ordered him to stay put but both Peter and Neal were relieved when the local sheriff turned up to take over the crime scene. Bettina was unceremoniously hauled off to jail, threatening everyone in sight with a lawsuit. This time, however, the locals seemed unmoved.

An ambulance showed up next, transporting John Jameson V under armed guard to the local hospital. Another ambulance appeared within five minutes of the first and this time Peter Burke and Neal Caffrey, both worse for wear, left the Jameson mansion, where law enforcement officials, coroner's office personnel and news media people milled around outside. Neal sat beside the gurney Peter was laying on, being attended to by an EMT, and looked out the ambulance window at the spotlights, vehicles and people running in and out. Sure enough, a news helicopter arrived and started circling overhead with a huge spotlight shining down, illuminating the old mansion. John Jameson IV would be appalled and furious. Neal felt very smugly righteous just thinking about it.

"You okay?" A gray looking Peter inquired, grimacing as the EMT treated his right arm, having finished with his left. He felt he should be a lot more irritated than he was but right now everything just took so much effort. God, he was tired.

Neal attempted a smile but even that hurt. "Just thinking about JJJ IV and how mad he would be if he could see the place now."

Peter's eyes were very heavy but the corners of his mouth lifted, just a little. "Yeah. Gives me a warm feeling just thinking about it," he said in a thick voice.

Neal did smile this time. "Me too."