The Crime of the Century

By RascalFlattsS

Disclaimer: See previous nine chapters.

Warnings: Some swearing and violence. Nothing too horrible or gross, I promise.

Any errors-grammatical and spelling-are mine.

So enjoy this chapter and more of your questions will be answered! Like what does Isabella Caffrey's sister is involved and the connection to Peter—it's so much fun! Enjoy!

** New Note: 9/6/10—Hi. After reading all the reviews and doing some proof reading, I decided to edit this chapter. I removed one section with Cruz and Jones talking that I thought was a little too confusing. Let me know what you guys think.

Chapter 10: A Whole Chapter of Cliff Hangers…I Hope You Have Good Climbing Equipment

"I have your locket," said Peter coldly. "Now where the hell is Neal?"

"Bravo Agent Burke!" said Damon. "I knew that you could do it! And with two hours to spare! You missed your calling, Agent."

"Yeah, well," said Peter sarcastically, "I missed career day at school."

"Pity," said Damon. "I never did very well at school. That's why I do what I do and you do what you do."

"Congrats," said Peter bitterly. "Now where's Neal?"

"Relax Agent, he's still here," said Damon.

"Let me talk to him," demanded Peter, his voice catching.

"Neal can't talk right now," said Damon.

"You son of a bitch!" cursed Peter. "I swear to God if you—"

"Relax," said Damon, "Neal's fine, I promise. He was just blabbering on and on and was annoying me to death—just like when we were kids. So I slapped some duct tape over his mouth. But I assure you Agent Burke, Neal's fine."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief. "All right, Damon. I have your locket. I have held up my end of the bargain."

"Yes you have," said Damon. "And you have done a marvelous job, Agent Burke. And I suppose you want to get Neal back, huh?"

"That would be nice," said Peter shortly.

"Very well," said Damon. "Meet me down at the pier in one hour. You know the drill-come alone. If I so much as even think I see another FBI Agent, well…You get the idea."

Damon hung up. Peter looked down at the phone and sighed. He looked at Satchmo, who was looking up at him expectantly.

Peter shook his head. He gave Satchmo a quick scratch behind the ear. "El's going to be pretty pissed, at me, huh boy?"

Satchmo just concerned to stare at him. Peter chuckled, "Yeah, that's what I thought."

Damon hung up the phone. He smiled and turned around to face Neal.

Neal was still tied to the chair. His hands were tied behind his back. He was sporting multiple bruises and cuts on his face where Damon had punched. Damon had placed a piece of duct tape over Neal's mouth, effectively gagging him. At the moment, Neal could do nothing but glare evilly at Damon.

"Now that I'm done," Damon said. He walked over and ripped off the duct tape.

"OW!" said Neal. "That hurt! How about a little warning next time, huh?"

"Oh Neal," said Damon. "There's no need to be mad. This is almost over. Your FBI friend found your precious locket."

Neal's eyes widened in surprise. What? Though Neal, How? I had the perfect hiding spot for it! No one was suppose to find it!

But granted, Peter was smarter that anyone Neal had ever meet (hell, Peter was almost as smart as him!) Not to mention, Peter had caught Neal putting the locket in Elizabeth's jewelry box. So it made sense that Peter would be the one who found the locket.

"Seems like you didn't have a good enough hiding spot," Damon said. He walked over towards Neal. He stood in front of Neal and he patted his cheek. Neal cringed.

"Don't touch me," snarled Neal.

"Oh relax Neal," said Damon. "It's almost over. Agent Burke was so kind enough to not only find your locket but he's going to bring it to me in about-"Damon looked at his watch-"in about 50 minutes. Isn't that sweet? Your friend must really care for you."

"I told you," said Neal, "Peter is going to kick your ass."

"Is that so?" asked Damon. He turned around to face Lucas, "Get your men ready. Be ready to grab Agent Burke." Lucas nodded and went to turn. "And Lucas?" Lucas paused and turned back to face Damon, waiting. "Bring Agent Burke alive and relatively unharmed."

Lucas nodded, "Of course." He walked out of the room. Damon turned back to Neal, who had a confused look on his face.

"I thought since you weren't enjoying our little family reunion," said Damon. "I would arrange another one for you. Agent Burke is going to be joining you here Neal, until I have finished my business here in New York." Damon leaned forward resting his hands on the arms of the chair so he and Neal were face-to-face. "Then once I'm on my way out of the country, my men will dump you and Agent Burke into the Hudson." He smiled, "Just like I did with your dear old Dad."

"NO!" Neal screamed. He struggled against his bonds.

Damon looked at him, with a raised eyebrow. "What's this? A change of heart?"

"Do whatever you want to me," begged Neal. "But please leave Peter out of this. He has nothing to do with this. This is between you and me. Please just leave him alone."

Damon sighed, "I can't do that Neal."

"Yes you can," said Neal desperately. "I'll do whatever you want. I'll give you anything you want. Just leave Peter alone."

"It's too late for that," said Damon. "Agent Burke is already on his way to meet me."

"He won't come," said Neal. Even as he said it, he didn't believe it. "Peter's not stupid. He won't go alone. He'll bring the whole FBI with him and he'll catch you."

"You better hopes he comes," said Damon. "Or you're dead."

"Oh c'mon Damon," said Neal. "We both know I was never walking out here alive."

"Fine," said Damon. "If your FBI friend is stupid enough to bring back up, I guess I'll just have to shoot him."

"NO!" screamed Neal. He struggled harder. "No! Don't kill Peter! Kill me instead! Please Damon, leave Peter alone!"

Damon pulled a taser out his pocket and stuck it against Neal's thigh. He pressed the button. Neal cried out in pain. It finally became too much for Neal to bear and he slumped forward, unconsciousness.

Damon smiled, "Be careful what you wish for, Neal."

-Elizabeth sighed. She and June had just finished searching the downstairs for the missing locket. They had searched the kitchen, the living room, the pallor, the dining room and two bathrooms. They had torn the lower level of June's mansion apart and they still hadn't found the locket.

"I'm beginning to think that the locket isn't here," said Elizabeth sadly.

June heard the despair in her voice. June walked over to Elizabeth and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, dear. We'll find it. We still have to search the second floor." June moved out of the dining room and started to climb the stairs. Elizabeth followed.

"What are you talking about?" asked Elizabeth. "We already searched Neal's apartment."

"We already searched Neal's apartment," emphasized June. "But we have yet to search my room or the guest rooms."

Elizabeth paused, "You really think that Neal would hide the locket there?"

June shrugged, "It's not my first guess, since we have eliminated the other possibilities…" June's voice trailed off. "Besides, we have to think like Neal. He knows that the first place someone would search-"

"Neal's apartment," finished Elizabeth. "But they might not think to search your apartment!"

June nodded. She continued to climb up the stairs and then moved down the hall, with Elizabeth on her heels.

"We should try to think of others places that Neal might use," said Elizabeth. "Let's see…there's his friend Moz…maybe his place….then there's the FBI office…" Her voice trailed off. She tried to think like her husband who knew Neal Caffrey inside out.

If Peter was here, thought Elizabeth he would know exactly where to look for the locket…he knows Neal better than anyone…he could figure this out.

June and Elizabeth arrived at the end of the hall. She grabbed the door handle and turned the handle, walking into the room. Elizabeth followed and gasped.

"Is this your bedroom?" she asked in awe.

"Yes," said June. She walked over to her dresser.

"It's beautiful," said Elizabeth, looking around the room. She looked up at June, "What are you doing?"

"I thought I'd check my jewelry box first," said June, "before we start our search. It would be a good place to hide a locket, don't you think?" June paused and looked over at Elizabeth. "Elizabeth? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost. Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth felt her breath catch in her chest as the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. The memory came flooding back to her:

Neal in their bedroom, standing in front of her dresser with the jewelry box lid open…he quickly snapped the lid shut…the look of surprise in his eyes—not fear nor guilt—just pure surprise at being caught…

"Damn it!" Elizabeth cursed. She sits down on June's bed. "Damn it!"

"Elizabeth!" exclaimed June. She rushed over to Elizabeth, "What is it? What's wrong?"

Elizabeth looks up at June. "C'mon," she says as she grabs June's hand and pulls her downstairs.

"Elizabeth!" said June. "What is wrong? We haven't finished searching-"

"I know where the locket is," said Elizabeth.

June stopped shocked. "You do?" asked June. "Where is it?"

"My house," said Elizabeth, "sitting in my own jewelry box."

Cruz stepped out of the car. She paused and waited for Jones to get out of the car as well before climbing up the walk to the house.

"Do we really have to do this?" asked Cruz.

Jones glared at Cruz. After discovering the link to Margaret Rousseau, they had found that Peter was not in his office. Jones and Cruz had looked all over the White Collar unit (abet not very hard to avoid raising suspicion) with no luck. They had also left five voicemails on Peter's phone; all of which had gone unanswered.

Jones had hoped that Peter had gone home to get some much needed sleep and was simply sleeping through the ringing of phone or left it on silent. Cruz wanted to go to Peter's home and just check to make sure or alert Hughes. Jones argued that they shouldn't wake Peter from the much need sleep. And that he and Cruz didn't need permission from either Peter or Hughes to simply talk to a witness.

"Do we really need to talk to this woman?" asked Cruz. "Goodness knows how much pain we are going to cause this woman, forcing her to relive painful memories—memories that she probably hasn't talked about in twenty years."

"I wish there was some other way," said Jones. "But we have to know the truth. And this is the only way."

"This is a wild goose chase," said Cruz as she pressed the doorbell.

"Maybe," said Jones. "But an FBI consultant is missing. She might know something that could help us find Neal—and maybe Peter. We have to talk to her."

The door opened and a woman in her late sixties appeared. Her short gray hair was specked with streaks of dark brown hair. Behind her glasses was a pair of clear deep blue eyes. Jones and Cruz were taken aback for a moment as they only seen one other person with such deep blue eyes like that: Neal Caffrey.

"Hello?" asked Margaret Burke. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," said Jones. "I'm Agent Clinton Jones and this is Agent Lauren Cruz. We're with the FBI. May we come in?"

"Of course," said Margaret. She held open the door for them. "Yes, please come in." She walked into the living room and Cruz and Jones followed.

As they walked into the living room, Jones saw a picture of Peter and Elizabeth Burke on their wedding day, sitting on one of the end tables. Jones nudged Cruz and she nodded—she had seen the picture too.

Margaret sat down on in recliner while Jones and Cruz sat down on the couch.

Before either of them could speak, Margaret interrupted. "Is Peter all right?" she asked, her voice laced with concern and fear.

"Peter's fine," said Jones.

So we hope thought Cruz.

Margaret let out a sigh of relief, "Thank God," she breathed. She looked at them puzzled, "So why are you here?"

"We are actually here about your sister," said Jones. "Isabella Caffrey."

Margaret stiffened. "Bella's also been dead for almost twenty years now." She looked at them suspiciously. "Why is the FBI investigating this? Bella died of breast cancer."

"In the course of another investigation," said Jones, "we came across Isabella Caffrey's will. She left you $15,000 that you never claimed. And we'd like to know why."

"Bella and I had a falling out," said Margaret. "We hadn't spoken in eighteen years."

"If I may ask," asked Cruz, "what caused the falling out?"

Margaret studied the agents for a moment before answering, "It was about her son."

"Neal?" asked Cruz. "Why would you and your sister fight about Neal?"

"Who?" asked Margaret.

"Neal Caffrey," explained Jones. "He's a consultant and works with us solving white collar crimes. He actually works with your son quite a bit."

"We work with your son as well," said Cruz. "Peter's our boss. And Neal is…well, he's actually Peter's partner."

"Oh dear," sighed Margaret. "I'm afraid you've made a mistake."

Jones and Cruz looked at each other confused.

"Are you saying that Isabella Caffrey isn't your sister?" asked Jones.

"No Bella's my sister," said Margaret. "Your mistake is about Peter."

"Peter?" repeated Cruz.

Margaret nodded. "Peter isn't my son. He's my nephew." She took a deep breath. "Peter is Isabella's son-her first born son. Peter is the reason Bella and I stopped talking so many years ago."

"Come again?" asked Jones.

"No," said Cruz. "That can't be—that's not right. Because if Peter is Isabella's son then that means…" Her voice trailed off.

Margaret nodded. "That's right. Your boss, FBI Agent Peter Burke and his partner Neal Caffrey are brothers."

Peter glanced down at his watch. He sighed. Damon still had five minutes left to show up and hopefully, with Neal.

Peter began to pace along the pier. He had a bad feeling about this. All the years of FBI training and cop instinct were screaming at him. But yet, there was a stronger instinct—a brotherly instinct—that was louder than the agent. Peter had to come. Even though it was against every single FBI policy ever written, he just had to come.

Neal's my responsibility…I promised him that everything was going to be okay…I told him I could protect him…I have to get Neal back…if anything happens to him, it will be all my fault….

Peter's thoughts were interrupted by movement on the other end of the pier. Peter quickly pulled out his weapon, holding his gun in one hand and the flashlight in the other.

"At ease Agent Burke," said Damon.

Peter looked around for another figure. He was disjointed when he could not see one.

"Where's Neal?" Peter demanded.

"Lower your weapon," said Damon causally.

"No," said Peter. "Not until I see Neal. Now, where is he?"

Damon sighed. "I am unarmed Agent Burke. I simply want to talk. You don't need your gun for that."

Peter made no move to lower his gun. "Where's Neal?"

"A one track mind," mumbled Damon. "Just like someone else I know." He shook his head. "Neal will be along shortly. I had to scout area ahead of time, to make sure that you came alone, which you did." He paused, "I am also alone, Agent Burke and unarmed. You have the upper hand here. So please lower your weapon and let us talk like gentlemen."

Peter scoffed. "I don't think you know the meaning of the word," he said.

Damon's eyes narrowed, "If I have to ask you again, you will be getting Neal back in pieces!" Damon growled, his black eyes burning.

"Okay!" said Peter. He lowered his gun down to his side. He did not however loosen his grip on his gun nor did he hostler it.

Damon smiled, "See what a little civility can do? Now Agent Burke, if you please. Where's my locket?"

Still holding the flashlight with one hand, Peter reached up to the neckline of his shirt. He grabbed the chain with one finger and gently pulled it; bring the locket up from under his dress shirt. He let the necklace fall and land lightly on top of his tie.

Damon eyed the necklace hungrily. "Give me the locket."

Peter shook his head, "No. Not till I see Neal. I get Neal and you get your locket. That's the deal."

"I told you," said Damon, "my men are bringing Neal shortly."

"And I told you," said Peter, "I'm not give you the locket until I get Neal." He took a step backwards.

Damon took a step forward. Peter raised his gun and held it level, pointing it at Damon's chest. "Don't," warned Peter.

Damon stopped. He raised his hands up in the air. "You aren't going to shoot me, are you Agent Burke?"

Peter tightened his grip on the gun, "Give me a reason not to," he said softly.

"If you kill me," said Damon, "you'll never see your pet convict again."

"Don't call him that!" yelled Peter.

Damon smiled, "Touched a nerve didn't I?" He laughed. "Do you know why I asked you to meet me here, Agent?"

"Because all you bad guys like to meet in dark, creepy places?" asked Peter.

Damon thought for a moment, "True. However, I asked you to meet me here for a different reason. Fourteen years ago, I was hiding out here after a nasty shooting." He smiled. "You know which one I am talking about—the one where my fourteen-year-old stepbrother got shot."

"You sick son of a—" Peter started to say but Damon interrupted him.

"I was here all alone," continued Damon, "when my stepfather showed up. He was livid. The hospital had called him when Neal came in with a GSW. The doctor gave Neal a shot of penicillin." He paused and smiled, "Did you know that Neal is allergic to penicillin? Douglas told me that night but I completely forgot about it…until Kate refreshed my memory a few weeks ago.

"Douglas screamed at me; how I almost killed his precious son," Damon spat as if the words sickened him. "He said he knew what I was and the crimes I had committed; how he was going to divorce my mother and leave her with nothing. He told me that if I ever came near Neal again, he'd kill me." Damon paused. "That's the last thing my stepfather said before I killed him."

Peter starred at him horrified. Had Damon just done what he thought he had done? Had Damon just confused to killing his stepfather—Neal's father?

"Do you know how long I've been searching for that locket?" asked Damon. "Seven years. Seven long years. It was five years ago that I realized the locket I had been searching for—my own stepbrother " He spat out the last two words as if they poisoned him "-had the locket all along! How many times had I seen him fiddle with it while my mother was married to Douglas?" He kicked the ground. "It was in reach and I never realized it.

"But the time I realized that Neal had the locket," said Damon, "You had already caught him and thrown him in jail! I searched for years looking for Neal's stash—searching every place that he ever lived, visited or robbed."

"That must have been a very long list," said Peter.

"It was," said Damon. "I finally conceded that I wasn't going to find the locket without Neal. So I waited for him to get out of prison. But the idiot had to go and break out of prison!" He looked up at Peter. "Are you aware, Agent Burke, that if you had arrived at that apartment five minutes later, you would have never found Neal Caffrey." He smiled. "At least, not alive anyway."

"What?" whispered Peter, the horror and fear creeping into his voice.

"My men and I were ready to move on the apartment," said Damon, "and take Neal. Only you got to him first. He was back in your custody and untouchable once again.

"Once I realized that the idiot had added another four years to his sentence," continued Damon, "I was livid. So I followed Kate out to San Diego in hopes that maybe she would lead me to the locket." He laughed, "I showed her a picture of the locket and she didn't even recognize it! Guess Neal didn't love her as much as he claims." He sighed. "Aw well, she was useful in many other ways."

Damon laughed, "I was about to give all hope of ever finding that locket but then I heard about your deal with Neal and how he was out of prison—all because of you." He emphasized the last part. "Finally after four years of waiting and protection, Neal Caffrey was at my mercy. And perfect timing too!"

"What are you talking about?" asked Peter. "What's so important about this locket?"

"That locket is the key," said Damon, "to one of the greatest treasures lost to history: a chest that belonged to King Richard of England. And that chest is currently in New York, just waiting for me to steal it. This right here-"Damon waved his hands around him, "this is my destiny!"

He turned back to Peter, his black eyes burning. "And I'm about to let you or Neal Caffrey stand in my way," he said coldly.

Damon looked up at something behind Peter. Peter started to turn but it was too late. Peter felt the taser touch him in the neck and felt the pain flood through him and then nothing.

Damon watched as Peter fell forward unconscious onto the pier. He looked up at Lucas. "Took you long enough. I had to use the bad guy rant! You know how I hate that!"

"I'm sorry, sir," said Lucas, "but you did a marvelous job distracting him."

Damon laughed, "You should have seen the look on his face when he realized how close we were to killing Caffrey eight months ago."

Damon bent down and picked up Peter's gun and stowed it in his coat. He then grabbed the chain and pulled. The chain broke and Damon held the broken necklace in his hand.

"Finally," breathed Damon. "After all these years of searching, it's finally mine!" He laughed.

Damon looked down at Peter's unconscious form. "I am a man of my word, Agent Burke," he said softly. "But I never told you that I was going to release Neal—I just said I'd give him to you." He laughed, "Don't worry Agent Burke. You'll be reunited with your precious convict soon enough."

I know, I know—I'm horrible! I know that this story has been filled with cliff hangers. I tried to write this chapter without any-I really did. And somehow I ended up with five of them! (Don't ask me how that happened because I honestly have no idea. My dog is looking at me suspicious…he may have had something to do with it...or he may just want my cookie…. ;-)

Hoped you enjoyed the Peter Whumpage in this chapter—can't let Neal have all the fun, now can we?

And don't worry about Damon—he'll get his in the end.

Next chapter: find out what the chest is, its importance, what's inside and where it is.

Please, please review. They make me so happy!