Chapter 10

On Saturday morning, Peter rose bright and early, anxious to follow up on his lead. Elizabeth and Sara were both still sleeping which he took as an excellent sign. It had been a rough week for all of them and he was particularly happy to know his wife was getting some well-deserved rest.

It was only 9:30 and he was already raring to go although he realized that Brent Maxwell, no matter how unorthodox his lifestyle was, probably didn't hang out at his usual haunt until after lunch – even criminals didn't do beer and scotch for breakfast. So while he waited, he went into the office to collect the footage from the funeral and the ceremony at the cemetery. He knew, from experience, that the chances were excellent the shooter had made an appearance the day before just to satisfy his curiosity and report back to whoever had hired him.

Peter set up in the conference room and was on his third coffee and second run through of the footage when Jones walked in looking pretty haggard from spending the past four nights on a lumpy couch in a cabin in the outback.

'Morning Peter' he said as he settled into the chair next to him and started to look at the large screen

'How are you doing, Jones?' Peter asked 'You're looking a little rough'

'Caffrey's not the easiest guy to babysit' he answered 'especially when he's pining for his wife! I could hear him moaning in his sleep this morning'

'Yeah, Neal's definitely a romantic' agreed Peter

'So, anything yet?' Jones asked pointing to the screen

'Not that I can see' answered Peter 'There are several people on here that I've never seen. Could be associates of Neal and Mozzie's or people from Sara's work. I'm on my way to meet the idiot who sold our shooter the rifle. I'll bring him in and have him look through it, see if he recognizes the guy he sold the weapon to'

'I can be back later for that' said Jones, standing

'Three o'clock?' said Peter

'Done. Well, I'm going to try to get a couple of hours of shuteye on a real bed' said Jones as he prepared to leave

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Peter texted Diana who was on security duty with Neal; he needed to ask her a favor. If she agreed, Neal's mood would be greatly improved by the end of the day. Then, he called Sara, outlining his plan; she agreed wholeheartedly, gladly accepting to carry out a few errands in preparation while she waited for Peter to finish up at the office.

Finally, Peter was ready to head down to Nico's Bar, a seedy establishment, exactly the kind of place a shady character like 'Brent Maxwell' - or whatever the hell his real name was - hung out.

Peter had dressed casually in order to blend in; he didn't want this guy running before he could get what he needed from him. The bartender pointed to a booth in the back and Peter grabbed his beer and made his way to where the first important lead in the case was sitting. The man was definitely shady looking but Peter had seen worse; he didn't look particularly threatening, more of a small time hood - although that was apparently the only thing that was 'small' about him.

'Brent Maxwell?' Peter asked as he sat down next to the guy

'Who wants to know?' he said looking up

Why was this guy sitting down next to him, crowding his space and not across from him, he wondered. He was about to find out.

'Mozzie said you could help me' said Peter

'Oh yeah? What you looking for?' the guy said eagerly, sensing a sale

Peter flashed his badge and the guy began to squirm.

'Don't panic! You give me what I need and I'll look the other way' said Agent Burke

The guy looked like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and he had, in fact. He let out a sigh, nervous about how much information he'd have to give away to get the Fed off his back. He had a lucrative little business going and he didn't want to reveal any more than he had to.

'Look, I don't even want your real name – although, believe me, I could get it if I wanted' Peter let the threat hang in the air. 'So, you gonna come along without a fight?'

The man struggled out of the booth – he was at least 350 pounds if not more and Peter realized that he wasn't much of a flight risk. They made their way to the Federal Building where Jones was waiting for them, all set up in the interrogation room.

It took a couple of run-throughs, but 'Brent' finally relented and pointed out the guy he'd sold the weapon to: a tall, mustachioed non-descript man who had been lurking both at the funeral home and at the cemetery.

Peter sent the guy away, promising to make his life a living hell if he spoke about their exchange and the small time crook crept away as fast as his short legs could take him, crawling back under the rock he'd been under.

'Can you get me face recognition on this guy?' Peter asked Jones pointing to the man on the screen

'It's Saturday, and it might take a while, but yeah, definitely. If he has a record and he's in the system, we should be able to identify him' answered Jones

'What time are you relieving Diana?' Peter asked

'As usual, between 6:30 and 7:00' he responded

'We're having a little party tonight' Peter said, mysteriously 'Get there by 6:00'

Jones shrugged. 'Okay, boss' he said

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Sara was getting the last of the preparations ready for their little surprise. She had picked up some fresh pasta and crusty bread, some gourmet pasta sauce (the hell if she was going to cook) from a deli on 38th and a couple of bottles of Château Neuf du Pape which Neal was particularly fond of.

Of course, she had to do all this behind Elizabeth's back. She was hoping that Peter's lead had panned out and that the end of this horrible charade was in sight but for now, she was looking forward to spending the evening with her husband and she could barely contain herself. She had explained to Elizabeth that she felt ready to go home and El had reluctantly agreed that they needed to get back to their lives – although, it was difficult to imagine how they could all resume normal lives without Neal.

June, on the other hand, assumed that Sara and Hope were still staying at the Burkes so she wouldn't be looking for her. It was important that no one notice Sara was gone for the night – it wouldn't do for the grieving widow to suddenly disappear for parts unknown, even for one night.

Peter had arranged for Diana and Christie to take Hope overnight so he'd covered all his bases. He hoped that his little surprise would have the desired effect on his partner; although they were making some progress on the case, they still didn't have a fix on the shooter – and even then, the face they'd indentified was just the hired gun and had to be traced to whoever had put the hit on Neal. It could be several days yet before the case was wrapped up and Peter wanted to keep Neal reasonably content and on an even keel.

Peter picked up Sara at 4:30 and they swung by Diana and Christie's place. Diana was still with Neal but Christie took Hope from her mom, reassuring her that she had nothing to worry about and sent them on their way. She was still feeling under the weather but she was more than thrilled to spend time with the baby – maybe, her presence could help in her ongoing campaign to convince Diana they were ready to take the plunge into parenthood.

Peter and Sara continued on their way towards the safe house. Sara had a huge smile on her face – it was nice to let go and be herself and right now, Peter was one of the few people she could show her true emotions to. Although she wasn't headed to the Ritz, she had nonetheless taken care to dress to impress – impress Neal, that was. She had chosen a pale blue silk blouse that Neal had bought her for Christmas and a pretty off-white linen skirt he'd commented on favorably when she'd last worn it; that and her usual heels all topped off by her new chartreuse colored fall coat. She looked great and she knew Neal would appreciate the effort. Peter had insisted she cover her eyes as she had done a few nights before, more for her safety than anything else and she had grudgingly relented, hoping not to mess up her eye makeup which she had taken the time to carefully apply. She was excited – almost as if she were going on a first date – despite the fact that there would be five of them at the table for dinner, not exactly romantic!

Peter grinned contentedly in the seat next to her. He knew that his little surprise would bring a smile to his partner's lips. He had been so focussed on Sara and Elizabeth's feelings over the past week that he had neglected to fully realize what this situation had done to Neal. He knew how the ex-con had difficulty coping with his two mile radius at the best of times; Neal would get antsy whenever he couldn't eat at a particular restaurant or attend a showing at a museum outside his approved area. Peter had always taken the whining with a grain of salt; after all, Neal was on parole and it was perfectly normal that his usual activities be curtailed - as a matter of fact, he was damn lucky to have gotten early release. But this was totally different. Neal had earned his freedom and he deserved to be walking the streets, moving freely as he saw fit, no questions asked.

They finally got to the fork in the road, leading to the safe house. Peter got out of the car and using his key, unlocked the padlock on the privacy fence, finally driving through and returning to lock it once again. Although Jones wouldn't be far behind – that is if he hadn't already arrived for his shift change – it was still protocol. He grinned at the archaic security system – this safe house dated back to the 70s; nowadays, they had electronic keypads and remotes to unlock fences like this one but hey, this had been hastily arranged, and the seclusion of the place had been their main priority. Peter continued up the bumpy path, the safe house being the only cabin on this private part of the road.

The sun hadn't completely gone down on this November evening and Peter spotted the cabin through the foliage that still remained on this late autumn day. As he always did, he went to park behind the cabin noticing that both Diana and Jones' cars were there.

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'You don't seem to be in a hurry tonight' Neal said apathetically as he sat (or rather slouched) on the couch

His comment was addressed to Diana who was usually anxious to get on her way when Jones arrived around 6:00 to relieve her. She was sitting with Jones at the small kitchen table, obviously not in any hurry to hit the road.

'I thought we could all eat together' she answered glancing knowingly at Jones who raised his eyebrows in understanding

Neal had been acting like a petulant child all day – with snarky remarks, what had become his usual whining, long-suffering sighs and despondent looks of boredom. Neal could do drama better than anyone else she knew and Diana was more than ready to sit him in the corner on a time out just like she would the two year old he was impersonating. It had now been four days and four nights since Neal had seen daylight and although the two agents could understand Neal's irritation and agitation, his coping mechanisms were often juvenile – impulsive and spontaneous, just like Neal.

'Whatever...' Neal responded, totally disinterested although it was difficult to know how much of his foul mood was genuine and how much was Neal's way of trying to be annoying.

They heard a car arriving in the distance and Neal sat up abruptly, suddenly concerned. Peter hadn't mentioned he was coming and no one else should be visiting.

'Oh, Peter said he'd drop by with the funeral footage' said Jones by way of explanation

'Oh' Neal answered, unimpressed, reverting to his previous slouched position and his earlier sulking

He was facing away from the door as it opened and he didn't even bother turning around – he wanted to make his displeasure obvious and a little more moping in Peter's presence would make his annoyance clear to his partner. He was totally unprepared for what he heard as he lay there listless.

'Really Neal?' the familiar female voice uttered as the man finally came to life.

TBC