Disclaimer: same as Chapter 1

Author's notes:

- A chapter a bit shorter this week, but bear with me: I'm celebrating my birthday on Sunday!

- Juno was an Ancient Roman goddess, wife and sister of Jupiter. She was the goddess of marriage and usually considered as the Queen of gods and humans (from Wikipedia).

- June's last name is not mentioned in the show, so I named her Arbogast from Roman general Flavius Arbogastes (d. 394). My contribution to the White Collar universe, folks!


Chapter 9: the jet-eyed Juno

The next day saw a fuming Stone was on the lookout in his dark blue Cadillac, which was double-parked in front of June's mansion. He had spent the whole night elaborating plans of revenge against Neal and his painful hand had fueled his hate towards the young man to the maximum. Caffrey was a goner; he had made a fool out of Stone one time too many and it called for payback. No one could mess with the best FBI agent the world has ever seen and get away with it. t Caffrey had probably heard of Stone's ambition to become Burke's "real" partner from a waggling tongue at the office – here too, there would be Hell to pay – and, in order to spare his delicate ass the harshness of a prison cell, the little bastard had launched a sabotage plan to prevent the "Burke and Buck" duo to form. Well, he would see another thing coming!

To be truthful, Stone was also angry at himself: he had wasted time with subtleties whereas a direct action would have dealt with Caffrey a long time ago. The planting of the money and the watch, the destruction of the Pippin file, nothing had worked and even physical intimidation had only resulted in three broken fingers. Caffrey must have signed a parchment with his blood to be so lucky but soon the Devil would reap his soul, with a little nudge from Agent Stone.

Because this time, the mean to send his foe in Hell would be simple and very efficient: a bullet in the brain, no less!

Of course, Stone would have to do the job himself: hiring the services of a hitman was quite out the question because of the fee and the risk of blackmail. Then again, he didn't need a professional for such an easy task: just lie in wait in front of the wealthy widow's house and, as soon as Caffrey would arrive, just shot him and get out of the crime scene on burning rubber. The inquiry would be short: one look at Caffrey's record and the police would automatically conclude the thief had been caught up by his past. Considering the number of people he had fooled, it would be easy to imagine one of them had wanted revenge and executed him in a drive-by shooting. Sure, Caffrey's death would make a bit of fuss at the White Collar Crime Unit: Burke would rant and rave, point an accusing finger at the long list of the con man's victims and ask about a thousand times how such a thing could have happened. But Stone was convinced it would be only a façade; deep down, Burke could only be relieved his dangerous deal with the rat was finally over. Caffrey was more trouble than he was worth and his ridiculous contribution to the Unit would be quickly forgotten. That piece of street trash would be buried within a week, erased from the FBI files in two, and no one would even remember his name in a month. Stone's fingers would be healed by then and he would take his rightful place next to Burke.

The agent grimaced a bit as the pain of his right hand awakened; driving a car with broken fingers had been quite a challenge; early in the morning he had to buy an untraceable .38 from a low-life scum, since Stone couldn't risk shooting Caffrey with his service gun. His animosity towards the pet was well-known and some nosey-parkers like tin soldier Jones or bothersome Berrigan could dare considering him as a suspect. As soon as the deed would be done, the .38 would end at the bottom of the Hudson, never to be heard about again. Stone had also taken the precaution to change his car's license plate: years ago, one belonging to a stolen vehicle had fallen in his lap and he had kept it ever since in his garage, thinking it would come in on handy one day – and he had been right! He had bought at the Salvation Army a shabby hooded sweatshirt and an oversized glove to hide the splints. That way, even if witnesses spotted him firing at the ex-convict, they would only see a shadow in a car without any striking details and a license plate number that didn't match his car's model. The perfect crime!

The worst part had been removing the splint on his forefinger, but Stone held a gun with his right hand and he needed to pull a trigger with complete freedom of movement. The finger was hurting terribly and Stone was furious at all the discomfort he had suffered since the beginning of the day; he shivered lightly at the recollection of having dealt with a snickering gun dealer, and then buying clothes in a place stinking of smelly beggars for his plan to come to fruition. Stone felt somehow insulted: a federal agent of his stature shouldn't compromise himself with the dregs of society to get rid of a pest but he truly didn't have any choice. His colleagues were idiots and Burke had been blinded by Caffrey so hard, it was a wonder he didn't walk around using a white cane. Fortunately, it would end soon: one bullet, one dead body on the sidewalk, and the path to promotion would be finally cleared.

Stone's cell phone rang, and the man picked it up with a curse. He swore even louder after the screen announced the call was from Linda. Damn stupid bitch, she truly had a knack to phone him at the worst moment!

"What?" barked Stone after hitting the "Answer" button.

"Barnaby, we have to talk," said his wife with a high-pitched, stressed voice.

"Well, maybe I don't want to talk to you! Ever thought of that?"

"Barnaby, your attitude has been unbearable for weeks. You yell at me, you frighten the kids, you spend all your time at the office and you have broken your fingers doing Lord knows what. What in the world is the matter with you?"

"I'm working! Doing important things! Of course, a lamebrain like you can't understand the concept of having a job to do!"

"And now you're insulting me!"

"Why shouldn't I? You have done nothing worthy so far, too busy stuffing yourself with chips or gossiping with your stupid friends in the kitchen. Did you think I would support you for the rest of your life, haven't you? Well, you were wrong! Either you earn your keep or you can hit the road. Your free-loading days are over!"

"How dare you! I raise our two children while you are away all day!"

"Yeah, right. As if watching over two cockroaches would take a lot of time. That's not real work! I'm doing real work! I'm solving high-profile cases while you remain glued in front of the TV no matter what's on. You can't even keep the house tidy or make the brats shut their mouths when I'm home."

"You have quite a nerve! For your information, our house is spotless; Kevin and Jimmy hide in their room as soon as you arrive because they are too afraid of you to dare making a noise. They are sick with fear and at their wits' ends to find a way to please you. You're always criticizing them, saying they are useless and boasting how you were star student at your school and a wonderful athlete. You were neither, you liar! I've just had a very interesting talk with your father and he told me about your delusions of grandeur, always blaming the others for your shortcomings. No wonder you are estranged with him!"

"I'm an FBI agent!"

"You graduated at the bottom of your class and you do nothing but push paper all day along. Your superiors don't trust you on the field and your co-workers can't stand the sight of you!"

"Shut up!"

"No! I won't let you tyrannize the kids because you are incapable of getting your head out of your navel. It's over, Barnaby, do you hear me? I'm taking Kevin and Jimmy and from this moment, you'll talk to me only through my lawyer. Mom will have us at her place until I find a job. Since we are never good enough, we'll leave you alone with the person you love the most, namely yourself."

"Good riddance!" yelled Stone before hanging up and throwing his phone across his car. The aggressive gesture made the calling device bounce against a window before falling on the passenger's seaet. Linda, that worthless bitch! How could she dare bothering him with her whines right at his moment of triumph? And asking for a divorce so she could drain him of his money until the brats turned eighteen, no less! Stone had a nasty laugh, certain the judge would be so impressed by the agent's reputation he'd grant only a pittance to Linda. Maybe Stone could ask for a restraining order, as well…

Oh, damnit!

Lost in his scenarios of matrimonial revenge, Stone had let his attention wander and he had almost missed Caffrey getting out of the house, his long silhouette walking down the entrance's stairs. As usual, the young man was dressed to the nines in an elegant suit, beautiful tie, shiny shoes and the Fedora hat was proudly worn on his head. Caffrey looked every inch like a fashion model instead of an ex-convict and Stone felt the hate turn the acid of his stomach into molten lava. Overconfident, cheeky, insufferable little bastard, his insolence couldn't be left unpunished!

Neal reached the last step and turned to walk down the street, his back to the double-parked car. That was good since Stone would rather not see Caffrey's face after it would explode from the gunshot. The agent cursed as he realized he hadn't readied the .38. The gun's recoil would send a terrible pain in his broken fingers but it was a small price to pay. He tried to settle the weapon on his wounded hand but the remaining splints hidden beneath the glove made his movements clumsy. Panicking at the thought his prey would be out of range within seconds, Stone cursed again and tried to force the .38 in his stiff fingers, resulting only in making the weapon fall on the car's floor, between his feet. The agent yelled in frustration but, before he could bend over to retrieve it, somebody slammed his right hand against the wheel while his left ear was violently clipped!

"Who are you?" asked a female voice.

Stone cried out in pain but also in surprise; his attacker was a fifty-something, chocolate-skinned woman with hair done in an impeccable brushing and clothes attesting of her wealth. The loop handle of a leather leash had been secured on her right wrist and, considering the barking heard close to Stone's car, a dog was attached to the other end. She looked like she belonged perfectly in a party held by a member of New York's jet society but her severe frown and the iron-like grip she had on his right wrist betrayed someone who perfectly knew how to handle an adversary in any given circumstance.

"I repeat, who are you?" asked the woman again. For the outside eye, she looked perfectly calm and collected but her jet-black eyes were shining in barely contained anger. Her grip on the wrist tightened even more, threatening to break a few more bones and it felt like she was resolved in ripping the ear off the head. She looked as formidable as the goddess Juno and obviously not the kind to be scared off by a few insults or a badge, Stone's usual weapons of choice for intimidating women.

"Let me go!" squeaked the agent, horrified by the fact he was being manhandled by a lady old enough to be his mother. In the meantime, Caffrey kept on walking down the street in long strides in the general direction of the FBI building, completely oblivious of the situation developing behind him.

"You'd better answer my question if you value your ear and your wrist, young man! Byron has taught me years ago the points to press on a human body to inflict pain, and I have never forgotten his lessons. Now tell me who you are, you stalker!"

"What?" exclaimed Stone, trying to shake his head back and forth in a vain attempt to make his assailant lose her hold. "What do you mean? I wasn't stalking anyone!"

"Who are you trying to fool? For your information, discretion isn't your forte; I have spotted your car ten minutes ago, while I was walking Bugsy around the block! Now, unless you want to lose some body parts, I'd suggest you to answer right now!" said the woman, adding a bit of pressure on the ear and the wrist to emphasize her words. Her dog was starting to bark loudly, attracting the attention of a few passersby.

Stone was in full panic mode; Caffrey had disappeared behind a street corner, the hit was ruined and he was being mistreated by a crazy rich witch! His first impulse was to yell out that he was an FBI agent and he could have her arrested for assault but he changed his mind in a second: identifying himself as a Fed would invariably lead to embarrassing questions, like where was his warrant allowing him to spy on Caffrey's lodgings, on which authority was he doing this surveillance, and so on. Stone desperately looked at the fallen gun between his feet, but the woman had a too-strong grip on his ear and wrist to even try retrieving it. His cell phone was out of reach as well, lying on the passenger's seat so calling for help was impossible. Besides, who would come to the rescue of an Agent unable to fend off an irate old lady?

"My patience is wearing thin, young man!" said the woman, pinching his left ear so hard it was in danger of developing gangrene from lack of blood.

"Ow! God damn it, stop it! I'm, er… I was waiting for a friend!"

"Oh, so you were?"

"Yes! Ow! He lives in this mansion… This palace, just right here! You have made me missed him, now!"

"So that's the reason why you have been keeping watch on my house?"

Realization dawned on Stone; his attacker could be no one else but June Arbogast, Caffrey's well-to-do landlady and widow of a notorious con man, meaning she probably had an ace lawyer up in her sleeve as well, someone who would make a scandal at the office just for the fun of it. The situation didn't bode well at all; the woman knew the score about cops and robbers and she wasn't the kind to be fooled easily. Stone gulped loudly as he remembered his insinuations about June and how she used Caffrey like a sex toy in payment for the rent. Considering her firm hand on Stone's ear, she was more a tigress than a cougar!

"Yes! I wanted to see Caffr… I meant, Neal!" yelled the agent, partly out of pain from the abuse his wrist was taking but also because the dog was barking its head off, as if it wanted to burst the eardrums of every citizen of New York.

"You know Neal, now, do you?" asked June with a suspicious tone.

"Let me go! I'm an old friend of his; I and he go way back a long time!"

"That's strange, considering he never mentioned you and he gave me a thorough description of all his friends."

"Aah! Ow! Listen, lady, we met in jail. That's probably why he didn't tell you about me!"

"You're a terrible liar, buster!" exclaimed June. "My son has never befriended anyone during his four years in prison and he would never sink so low to speak to a ne'er-do-well like you."

Stone's eyes widened at those words.

"W-What did you say?"

"Neal Caffrey is my son in everything but blood and I am pretty uptight in protecting him from hostiles, may they be cops or outlaws. And I don't appreciate seeing prowlers around my house and spying on my child, got it? So here's a word of advice, Mister: you'd better make yourself scarce or the next time, I'll rip your ear clear off your stupid head and no jury would condemn me, got it?"

"Ouch! Ow! Stop it!"

Stone was at a loss of finding a way out of this ridiculous but painful situation; being scolded by an elderly woman acting like a nineteenth-century teacher was the ultimate humiliation for a trained agent and a gush of blood rushed to his face at the thought a nosey police officer would show up and demand an explanation. No doubts the Arbogast woman would spill the beans and Stone would have to identify himself as a Fed in order to avoid the handcuffs, but then Caffrey would hear about his presence nearby the mansion!

Luckily, salvation came in the form of the barking mutt: for some reason, it managed to get under the car and June, fearing for her pet, tugged at the leash to make it come back to safety. By doing so, she partially relinquished her hold on Stone's ear and the man seized the occasion to floor the gas pedal. The car made a sudden swerve, forcing June to jump backwards; the momentum made her tug violently on the leash and Bugsy yelped in pain as the leather cord pulled at its collar. Stone made the car's motor roar again and he fled in a fury, his gloved and damaged hand making it difficult to have a firm hold on the wheel. But anything was better than facing that Manhattan witch!

A few minutes later, Stone had regained enough composure to start muttering under his breath while driving clumsily, his left ear still hurting from the abuse it had suffered recently. He cursed the whole world in general and Caffrey in particular. The bastard truly had the Devil's own luck: the plan had been foiled, once again! It seemed that Stone had underestimated his foe; not only Caffrey had turned the other feds and Burke against Stone but he had somehow convinced his landlady to adopt him! Where there any end to the thief's infernal gall?

The agent swore loudly as he realized he would never be able to ambush Caffrey at the mansion again; the Juno-lookalike had probably memorized his face and his car and she would tell her so-called son to be wary of dark blue Cadillac vehicles lurking around the neighborhood. A good thing the woman hadn't noticed the .38 in the car, otherwise she would have screamed like a banshee until a cop would arrive. But maybe Caffrey would recognize Stone in the description, and then report it to Burke! His cover was blown!

Stone's phone suddenly came to life, ringing on the passenger's seat. The man grabbed it with trembling broken fingers, fearing it was Burke calling to ask for an explanation; it took him a few minutes to gather some courage and glance at the phone's screen, and then Stone let out a loud sigh of relief: the caller was the Human Resources Department.

"Yes?"

"Agent Stone?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"This is Stevenson from Human Resources. It had come to our attention that you are on sick leave from an injury sustained within the FBI building, but you haven't provided the needed paperwork. Could you come over as soon as possible to regularize the situation?"

"Yes! Er… Look, I'm not far from the office. I'll drop by in a few minutes and sign whatever you need, okay?"

"That will be fine, Agent Stone. See you in a few."

Stone disconnected the phone and considered the situation; going to Human Resources would give him a watertight alibi. Stevenson wasn't known to keep a very attentive eye to the clock – in fact, he often forgot the time to go home – and he could be useful as a witness of Stone's presence within the FBI building. That way, in case the Arbogast widow would tell Caffrey about a man prowling around the mansion, Stone could reject outright any accusation even if his description matched more or less the lurker's. He could also play the sympathy card, arguing his broken fingers had made him fill the paperwork very slowly and that fool Stevenson wouldn't be able to tell when Stone had arrived at the HR Department. Lack of proofs would get the agent off the hook, giving him the opportunity to think of a new plan to kill Caffrey.

His decision taken, Stone headed for the federal building.


Meanwhile, June was typing furiously a number on her cell phone before pressing the "Call" button. She raised the device to her ear, silently praying she would reach her correspondent within seconds while Bugsy, her dog, was whining softly from the strain its neck had endured after the too-brusque yanking of the leash. June bent down to pet the animal, and then her face brightened at the sound of soft ringing at her ear. But her joy was short-lived as she heard Neal's recorded voice saying:

"Hello, you have reached Neal Caffrey's voicemail. I can't answer you right now but please leave a message after the tone…"

June sighed in realization that Neal had, for once, taken the subway and his phone wouldn't work underground. But at least, she could leave a message to her son.

"Neal, honey, this is June. Listen, I caught a prowler this morning outside the house, right at the moment when you left for work. He seemed very interested in you but not in a good way. Here's his description…"

TBC…