Neal looked at the clock and the looked around at the agents still gathered around the table. Set up against the wall was a pinboard, covered with notes on the Dutchman. The Dutchman was a forger who had vanished the last two times the FBI got close. Peter was staring at the information as if he expected the answer to jump off the board and bite him.
Diana and Jones were sitting at the table, flipping through files and typing on computers. They were gathering information and trying to figure out where the money exchanged for the forged pieces went.
"It's after five," he commented. Work was supposed to have ended by now. Most of the other agents had already left.
"Welcome to Peter's team," Jones whispered to him. "When we were chasing you, I think there were nights we didn't even go home."
"Of course, Peter did make sure we didn't work more than 30 hours in a row," Diana added. "Although he didn't do the same himself. I believe Hughes ordered him home once."
"Isn't he married?" Neal questioned, already knowing the answer. Peter's wife must have been a very forgiving woman to still be with the workaholic. "You know what, I'm going home."
As he stood up to leave, Peter grunted. "Jones, take Caffrey home."
"I can manage myself."
Everyone glanced down at Neal's ankle, where the tracking anklet was hidden underneath his slacks.
"Yeah, I'll take you home, Caffrey," Jones said.
Neal relented. He had a plan and Jones was just a complication in it. But not a very big one.
Neal's plan was simple. Get to Peter's house. He knew the tracking anklet would go off and he was hoping that it would attract Peter home.
He was gambling on Peter not wanting to arrest him after he met the wife.
Elizabeth Burke opened the door with a curious expression. Neal wondered if they got many visitors.
"You're Neal Caffrey! I thought you were at the office with Peter."
Neal grinned at her recognition. Peter must have shown her a picture or something. He tipped his hat in greeting.
"I was. But it's hometime and he wouldn't leave. I have a feeling he'll show up soon though." Neal pulled up a pant leg so that El could see the tracking anklet. The light on it was flashing red, indicting that Neal was outside his radius.
El sighed and let him in. "You know Peter's going to be mad you left your radius," she commented.
"I'll be lucky if he doesn't send me back, I know."
The sound of nails scrambling across the floor attracted his attention as a golden, large dog came running into the room.
"Oh!" The dog was friendly and warm. Neal enjoyed running his hands through the golden fur. "You're a beautiful boy."
"That's Satchmo," El explained. "You can take the couch while you wait for my husband to get here. Would you like anything? Tea, perhaps?"
"No thanks, Mrs Burke."
"Call me El."
Neal grinned and moved to the couch, petting Satchmo all the way.
"You're in my house, on my couch, with my wife."
Neal grinned at Peter while El pick up the photo album she had been showing him. Satchmo came running over for more pats.
Peter threw his hands in the air. "And now you're petting my dog."
"Did you really put Elizabeth under surveillance before you asked her out? Peter. I underestimated you." It was an adorable thing and it made Neal feel right at home. Mostly because his past girlfriends often found themselves vetted by his family or Neal himself.
"You told him."
"He said he wanted to make sure I wasn't seeing anyone else," El explained to Neal. Neal soaked up the story. "It's cute."
Peter didn't seem to think so.
"It's adorable," Neal said to reassure him.
"I'm putting you back in prison."
Neal blinked. That was a very light tone. "Are you... making a joke?"
Peter rolled his eyes. "I can make a joke, Neal."
"Your ties don't count."
El laughed.
"El!" Peter said, scandalised.
Neal spent the night at the Burkes' with his anklet set to go off if he left the premises. Even with that, Peter commented that he didn't get good sleep that night.
They stopped off at June's so Neal could change before work. They reached the FBI office right on time. Peter was a little twitchy from being so close to being late but he calmed down as soon as Diana spotted them. She walked over with a file in hand and a big smile on her face.
"Boss, the warrant came through," she announced.
Peter took the file with a grin. Neal read over his shoulder.
"What's that for?" he asked when it wasn't clear which case it was connected to.
Peter motioned for him to follow. "Diana, get the rest of the agents involved. Neal. You wanted something interesting, this might be right up your alley."
"What is it?"
"The Dutchman. We've traced one of his aliases to a safety deposit box. I need you to crack it open." Neal raised his eyebrows. It seemed Peter understood the unspoken question of 'isn't that illegal?' "I have the warrant here. The bank just can't provide us with a combination as the boxes belong to the clients and the clients set the codes."
Neal got it. He had to figure out the combination to the safe and get Peter his evidence. He shrugged. Peter was right, it was interesting. At least, more interesting than paperwork.
It was nerve-raking. The eyes of at least ten agents bore into his back. They were all standing still, waiting for him to either succeed or fail. Neal didn't like focusing completely on the safe while he worked as he worried about what the agents might do the moment he stopped paying attention to them.
He twisted the knob. His fingers were pressed against it and the door, waiting to feel the slight shift of a pin beginning to slide into place.
When he felt it, he paused and waited a moment. A click sounded.
"Drop three," he announced.
There was a shuffling of shoulders and a couple of relieved sighs. One digit of a three digit combination and the FBI was already celebrating. In any other circumstance, Neal would laugh.
Another one fell, click sounding.
"Drop two." In the corner of his eye, Peter frowned. Neal found the last drop quickly, which was great because he had spent almost half and hour standing here. "Drop four. That's the last of it."
There were a couple of 'yeahs' and claps on the back as Neal announced he was about to open the safe.
"Wait!" Peter's tone was clipped and commanding.
Neal froze. He was used to instinctively following a tone like that.
"Peter?" Jones questioned.
"Two, three, four," Peter said. "Take out your phones, what does it say?"
Neal pressed his hand against the safe door, keeping it closed. Because Peter had realised something they had missed.
"FBI," Jones read out. "You think this is a trap?"
Neal thought about it. It was possible. "It's not like you're subtle," he pointed out. He ignored the frowns sent his way.
Peter nodded. "There is a chance that the Dutchman knew we were coming. There's no evidence of him using this alias recently. My gut says something more is going on here."
'Gut?' Neal mouthed to Jones. Jones grinned.
"Never bet against the gut," Jones said. "Peter's gut is right more often than not."
"I'll look for traps then," Neal said, turning back to the safe.
Peter's gut had been right. There was a trap built into the safe. Had Neal opened the safe, the evidence inside would have burned.
Neal found a way to disable it and they managed to get their hands on the evidence inside. It made Neal's eyes light up when they pulled out piles of money.
"Canadian one hundreds?" Jones questioned. "Could this be payment or loot?"
"Could be either," Peter said with a thoughtful frown. He turned to Neal, which was all the warning Neal got before an evidence bag was tossed into his hands.
Neal examined it.
"It looks right but," he hummed. Something told him that there was something fishy about this money. "I wouldn't go using it in a Canadian store."
Peter put to voice what Neal didn't want to confirm out loud since he didn't have any evidence.
"There's a chance they're fake?"
Neal nodded.
"Let's get on confirming that," Peter said, passing a bag to Jones and Diana. "If it's real, try and track how it got here. If it's fake, work with Neal to figure out where the materials may have come from. This is our first solid lead on the Dutchman, let's not waste it."
