Ok, I totally forgot that the name Gless was used in "Front Man". I thought it had just occurred to me. That's a bit embarrassing.
Roger poured himself some more wine and watched his fiancé carefully. She was pushing her food around her plate but not eating and staring off into the distance, a vaguely unhappy expression on her face.
"Babe," he started. He got a distracted 'Hmmm?' in response. "Are you going to eat your dinner or am I going to have to feed it to you?" That caught Lyn's attention. She hated being fed like a child.
His redhead dramatically took a large bite of her mashed potatoes. "There."
The southern architect sighed and sat back in his chair. Lyn always got like this when she worked on a criminal case. His only real defense was to let her talk about it in her disjointed, roundabout way. Otherwise she was nearly insufferable. "Ok, what is it?"
Lyn set down her fork and leaned forward. "Where do you think the line between genius and insanity is?"
"Um…" Roger should have been used to this kind of question by now. "I guess it's when the person starts doing completely irrational things."
"But what if they're genius irrational things?"
"I didn't know there were genius irrational things."
Lyn swiped his full wine glass instead of filling her own. "Yeah, me neither." She fell back into her chair, looking off into the distance again but with his wine.
All he wanted was his loving, quirky fiancé back and the FBI was holding her hostage. He would apparently have to forcibly drag her back into the real world.
"Are you talking about a suspect?"
"Oh, no. I had lunch with-" there was a very slight pause "-a coworker today and he's… redefining a few things for me."
There was only one reason Lyn would omit the name of the person she was with: she thought it would make him what she thought as "unreasonably" jealous. It was her way of "protecting" him. And his jealousy wasn't unreasonable. His fiancé was, for lack of a better word, adorable and he had seen that trait trigger a kind of possessiveness in a variety of men. And, well… he saw her first.
If she was talking about an FBI coworker it was probably Peter or Caffrey. Roger decided to ignore that Caffrey's name came out as a growl even in his head. Everything about that man bothered him. But Roger swallowed it down before Lyn could read it on his face and go off on a women's rights tangent.
Roger respected women, worked with women, understood they were just as competent as men but he was raised a southern gentleman. Every bone in is body was telling him to lock her away in a tower and build a moat around it and fill that moat with alligators. But he knew when he first started dating his freckled fiancé no tower and moats would be tolerated. Besides, she would just figure out a way to escape.
But back to the matter at hand.
It was probably Caffrey she had lunch with. At least he hoped she wasn't referring the genius/insanity question to Peter, the man with the gun who was supposed to be protecting her. He wanted that man nowhere near the insanity line.
"Is that a good thing?"
Lyn shrugged and resumed playing with her food. "I'm not really sure." The woman shook her head suddenly, like she was trying to shake something off. When she looked back at him her eyes were focused and she was smiling. Ah, his Lyn was back. "It doesn't matter right now. What fabulous building are you currently designing?"
Roger broke out into a wide grin and launched into his ideas for this big account in Philadelphia. He was pleased to see by the end Lyn had cleaned off her plate.
Peter slid a beer over to Neal, despite the fact that he knew the con man would rather have some ridiculously priced wine. If he wanted that he should have asked El for a drink. Said woman was currently pacing in the living room, half lecturing half debating with some caterer on her cell phone. By the snippets Peter was able to pick up when she passed by the table it wasn't sounding pretty for the caterer.
The agent noted that Neal took a swig from the bottle and didn't even grimace. He'd have the ex con cowing down on wings before Neal knew what hit him.
This was an opportune time to mention Lyn's suggestion, when stripped of its academics, that Neal get a life. And El was near by to smooth over any inevitable incidents where Peter tripped over his own words. In fact, he would rather El take over entirely.
Peter looked over at his wife hopefully but she had those frown lines around her eyes and her mouth was pursed in that way that meant she was very, very unhappy and just looking for someone to unleash her fury on. Probably not the best time to ask.
"So…" Peter decided to just get it over with. "Are you… meeting new people?"
Caffrey stilled his the hand that was playing with the beer bottle and gave him a strange look.
"I meet new people everyday."
"Yeah," the FBI agent could feel the awkward tension climbing up his back into his shoulders, "but are you making friends?"
"Uhh…" The younger man was clearly confused by this line of questioning and Peter didn't want to give him an opportunity to say something and change the subject.
"What about dating?"
"Peter, are you trying to domesticate me again?"
"Well it wouldn't exactly hurt you to try." Peter was trying for stern but Neal was giving him that look. "It was Lyn's idea."
"Honey," Peter heard El admonish. Apparently done with her phone call she sat down at the table with them. "It's not nice to rat out Lyn like that, she's just trying to help."
"Wha- I-" El shushed him with a raised hand and turned to Neal.
"You know, it's not a bad idea. I know tons of women who would love to go out with you."
Neal ducked his head and smiled, chuckling slightly. "Thank you, Elizabeth but I'm fine." He looked them both in the eye. "Really." He looked so earnest and Peter didn't know if he was trying to con them or if Neal had actually deluded himself into thinking voluntary isolation was ok. "And bedsides. I've got you," he said with a grin. Peter rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer. "And Lyn, apparently."
"You know she doesn't want you calling her that." El gave him a 'Seriously?' look. Peter nodded.
Seriously.
Neal shrugged. "Who's going to tell her?" Neal sat back and Peter could tell his mind had switched to a different track. "You know what's bothering me? If Gless is our guy then why did Picah say it was a Professor M something?"
"What? He can't use an alias to sell a forged painting?" El pitched in.
"True," Neal agreed.
"I'd like to know what that alias is. Something to hold over his head." Peter finished off his bottle.
"Well we already ID-ed the forged paintings, there's no need to avoid the galleries. We can go to the one Picah bought his from tomorrow. Knock some heads, twist some arms, I know how much you like that."
Peter didn't try to suppress his amusement. "Yeah, sounds like a plan."
Neal studied the Halfway House art gallery. It was a tiny little brick thing but well maintained- one of those hidden places that only the locals knew about. Neal wondered how Picah could have possibly heard about it.
The inside was charming and stylish considering what the employees had to work with. They didn't plaster over the brick inside and the space was littered with a mismatch of colorful chairs and benches for people to sit and enjoy the art. An eclectic selection of music played over the speakers. He and Peter didn't exactly blend in. The few employees that were there at eight in the morning were eyeing them with a mixture of irritation, suspicion, and nervousness. It may have been more a response to Peter's badass cop expression than anything.
"Hi, Peter Burke, FBI." The older man flashed his badge to some kid with blue hair and a nose ring and he had that expression on his face that meant he was enjoying the slightly terrified look on the kid's face. Neal had long suspected that Peter's favorite part about being an FBI agent was the power trip. "I'm going to have to speak to whoever's in charge here." The kid nodded and scampered off to the office in the back. Neal moved up to Peter's shoulder.
"Laying it on a bit thick, are we?"
Peter unsuccessfully suppressed a smirk and shook his head. "Nah."
Blue-haired kid came back with an attractive Asian woman who looked very familiar. Peter caught his eye; he saw it too. She was in the photo of the first Philister Award Recipients.
"Hello," she said pleasantly. "I'm Allison Chen, the owner of Halfway House."
"Peter Burke, FBI." The agent was much more polite with Chen than with blue-hair, his entire demeanor softening. Despite working closely with both Diana and Lauren Peter was an old fashioned man at heart- he would never intimidate a woman.
Neal stuck out his hand. "Neal Caffrey, FBI consultant." Despite him pulling out his brightest smile Chen's response was less than enthusiastic.
"What can I help the FBI with today?" She didn't exactly blend in with the setting either. Black wraparound dress and professional pumps, tasteful make up, no hair dye, excess piercing or tattoos.
"We're here investigating a forged Mondrian as part of a string of forgeries."
Chen didn't even blink. "You're speaking of the painting Mr. Picah purchased." Chen tossed her hair back and stuck out her chin defiantly. "It's a little embarrassing of course and we're trying to keep that we housed and sold a forgery quiet."
"Of course," Neal agreed for both himself and Peter.
"It would be very helpful if you gave us the information for the person who sold you the painting."
Instead of showing signs of retreat Chen became even more defiant- and defensive. Shoulders tensed, arms crossed, jaw clenched. "The person form whom the gallery bought the painting, I can assure you, had no idea the painting was a fake. They had bought it at an auction."
Peter looked at him with slightly raised eyebrows. Chen's behavior was raising some serious red flags. Neal hadn't given much thought to Mozzie's information about how Gless' "special students" were called 'disciples'. But Chen's obvious devotion and protectiveness of Gless were making that rumor much more plausible.
"Well that's nice, but we'd still appreciate the name and contact information of the painting's previous owner," Peter said slowly.
"I'm sorry but they are a very valued client and prefer their privacy. If you want that information you're going to have to get a warrant." With that final statement Chen turned and walked back into her office. Neal gave a long, low whistle. He pivoted on his heels to his very annoyed partner.
"Well I think she liked us."
"Oh yeah, I bet we're going right on her Christmas card list." Peter cuffed him on the arm as he turned to exit the gallery. "The woman wants a warrant. Let's get her a warrant."
Peter disappeared to go deal with the legal system once they arrived at the federal building. Neal didn't mind being left behind, his own personal experience with lawyers and judges didn't leave him inclined to interact with them more than he had to. Plus he had a bone to pick with Lyn.
He drummed his fingers on his desk, planning out his attack. Why didn't anyone get it? He was in love with Kate. He was going to spend the rest of his life with Kate. End. Of. Story.
Neal practically shoved himself out from his chair and strode with purpose to Lyn's office. He entered without knocking, not caring if it was rude, he wanted her off kilter and scrambling to keep up, and leaned next to her on the inside of her desk- looming over her slightly.
She was staring up at him, startled, her eyes impossible big. "Hello," she said slowly, sounding very unsure. Good.
"You think I should date?" He started off direct and without any preamble. The woman blinked in surprise but quickly recovered, launching into a calm, educated explanation.
"You obviously enjoy people. And for someone so sociable you seem to have come out of prison without any obvious psychological problems. But to go so long without any normal relationships… it's not healthy."
"Didn't know you were so concerned. I'm touched." Neal laced equal parts of anger and amusement into his tone so she wouldn't know how mold her response. She looked lost and a little panicked like a doe who just realized that it was locked in a room with a hungry wolf. Neal was enjoying that look a bit more than was probably normal.
Despite the trapped prey expression her voice remained calm and took a turn into soothing- trying to keep him calm incase he really was angry.
"Part of my duties is to monitor your mental state. Despite your best efforts to appear otherwise you're still only human and it's not recommended to be without friends and… other close relationships." Neal placed his right hand between her and her laptop and phone (and if he was giving off the impression that he was cutting off her ability to call for help, well…) and leaned toward her- not close enough for any dramatic reaction from Lyn to be reasonable but enough to crowd her. He pitched his voice a bit lower to make sure her attention was focused solely on him.
"So you're recommending sex. I gotta say, that's pretty damn close." Lyn was supposed to be so smart but being able to spout out what she read in a textbook and maintain a good poker face wasn't genius.
"No, I am not recommending sex," the psychologist continued, "You shouldn't do anything you're not comfortable with." Neal could see her breath was slightly uneven and her mouth was a little slack and she was still trying to figure out exactly what she was supposed to be doing. This pleased the ex con greatly.
"I'm perfectly comfortable with closeness." Lyn's left hand was resting about a half and inch from his right and Neal was flooded with the impulse to rip off her engagement ring and throw it across the room. He ignored the impulse, of course, it was completely unfounded and would do absolutely no good.
Neal tilted his head in consideration and removed his arm from in front of her to lean up straight again. He had to hand it to her; she didn't break eye contact once. And he believed he got his point across. "Thanks for the concern, Dr. Marrow, but I'm big boy, I can handle my own social calendar." Lyn sat up straighter from where she had pressed back into her chair a little.
"You should really take my advice seriously, Mr. Caffrey."
"Alright, compromise, I could always use a few more friends. I'm getting a drink with Jones after work, you should come along." The con man didn't wait for her response- the slight stuttering coming from the woman's mouth was amusing- and made his way to the door. He turned and gave her a big smile that was probably still predatory. "I'll tell Jones you're coming with." And then he left.
What had started as a hitch in the 'Befriend Lyn' plan (he was a fucking adult, he could run his own social life, thank you very much) had turned into an opportunity (and if he felt achingly lonely sometimes, well… having a rogue FBI agent hold your soul mate hostage was a pretty valid reason). She couldn't back out now; he had already left and was presumably telling Jones of the addition to their evening plans. It was human nature to avoid as much stress at possible. Refuting the con man's assumption now would be awkward (read: stressful). In addition to this, Lyn seemed to think he was in dire need of companionship. In her eyes rejecting his invitation would be the same as rejecting his effort to follow her advice and "damage" him further.
Really, he was so good sometimes he impressed himself.
Lyn sunk back in her chair and let out a long, calming breath.
Holy shit.
She had been in a room with Caffrey the con artist, Caffrey the charmer, Caffrey the genius but this was the first time she had been confronted with Caffrey the convicted felon. She had been alone in rooms with criminals many times before- violent criminals who've done far worse things than the blue-eyed con man- but she was always in interview rooms with a variety of law enforcement officers watching and just a few steps away in case things got out of hand. Any of the really dangerous felons were generally shackled.
They never backed her into a corner looking like a shark in a $4,000 suit sharp enough to cut glass. They had never loomed over her like that and she had never felt like they might lean over and sink their teeth into her if she made a wrong move. And she couldn't figure out what the right move was; she had been franticly analyzing everything she could pick up from him but she just… couldn't. It certainly was… (nerve-wracking, frightening, frustrating, eerie, inexplicably sexy) …something.
It probably was best not to dwell on that.
This encounter did get his point across in glaring neon lights. Clearly he didn't appreciate having people tell him how to run his personal life. Just like every other person on the face of the planet. She may have made a slight miscalculation.
And she was kind of hoping that he would make friends outside of the Bureau. Not that she was one to talk. Besides Susan all of her friends were either cops or worked closely with cops.
At least Caffrey was friendly with Jones and didn't have to depend on Peter or the two other (probably criminal) friends the FBI agent mentioned the con man had. And well, part of how Peter convinced her to take this job was she would have more time to observe and profile Caffrey and Caffrey was giving her an opportunity to do just that. There was no reason to cancel after work drinks.
About and hour later Peter knocked on her door.
"I have an Allison Chen in Interrogation." He filled her in on how Chen was a former Philister student of Gless' and how she was probably how Gless knew which galleries to sell to. She was probably more involved than that and Peter wanted that information. They were standing in Observation watching Chen fidget out of irritation. "If we can get her to roll on Gless we won't have to interview every one of the Philister students hoping to catch a break."
"What's your impression of her relationship with Gless?"
"Well," Lyn almost jumped when the answer came from behind her. That was Caffrey's voice. Jesus, she didn't even know he was in here, "when we asked her about him this morning she became very protective. I say she's devoted to him."
"Hmmm," she hummed in response, trying to get her thoughts together. "Let me talk to her. She might open up more easily to someone she has a bit more in common with."
"You think she'll be any more cooperative because you're a woman?" Peter questioned. Lyn couldn't read his expression because her gaze was focused on Chen but she could hear the mild skepticism in his voice.
"Yes. If you're not comfortable with me doing the questioning then send Cruz in there." Lyn could hear the fabric of Peter's collar rub against his neck as he shook his head.
"No, I don't have a problem with you going into Interrogation." The taller man stepped aside. "This one's all yours." Lyn nodded her thanks and exited Observation, Caffrey still a shadowy figure in the background. The psychologist entered Interrogation and gave Chen a friendly smile and stuck her hand out.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Marrow." Chen gave her a skeptical once over before offering her hand to shake.
"Not Agent Marrow?"
Lyn shook her head and sat down across from the other woman. "No. I'm a consultant with the FBI."
"A consultant. The FBI seems to be filled with them."
"Yes, well, that's not what we're here to discuss."
"Do I need my lawyer?"
Lyn shrugged. "I'm a civilian, I can't arrest you. I don't see why you would need one." Chen pursed her lips but didn't make another mention of legal council. "So you're the owner of Halfway House. You're pretty young to own a gallery."
"A former teacher set me up in the job. The previous owner was a friend."
"And this former teacher was Brendan Gless?" Chen's shoulders tensed at Gless' name.
"Yes."
"That was awfully nice of him. You must have been very special to him." Chen's eyes lit up and she seemed to inflate. Looks like she guessed right.
"I was one of his best students. We were close."
Lyn tilted her head to the side and tried to appear as non-threatening and as non-judgmental as possible for her next guess. "You slept with him?"
"We dated," Chen said defensively. "And parted on good terms."
"Obviously, he got you that job at Halfway House. Do you like being the owner of the gallery?"
"It's rewarding. I don't understand what this has to do with the forged Mondrian."
Lyn flashed her an apologetic smile. "Just bear with me. How long have you owned the gallery?"
"12 years." Chen kept her answers direct and to the point but her body language was monologuing like Shakespeare. She kept alternating between tense and accommodating. She was torn between protecting Gless and complying with Lyn- the friendly woman who was her only ally in the Bureau. That was a good sign. Chen shouldn't be impossible to break. All Lyn had to do was rupture Chen's illusion of Gless.
"Wow, that's a really long time to work in one gallery. I'd think by now you'd have grown out of it." Chen shifted in her chair and looked away. "I take it the thought has crossed your mind." Lyn clasped her hands together and leaned forward. "I bet whenever you felt like it was time to move on you called someone close to you to talk it over, an old mentor?"
"What's so wrong with getting a little advice?"
"Nothing, as long as the person giving the advice has your best interests in mind."
"Brendan cares about me." The Asian woman lashed out, her voice laced with desperation. Lyn was getting close to cracking the other woman wide open.
"No, he doesn't. He only cares about himself. He placed you in that tiny gallery and kept you there to control you, use your connections to sell the forgeries he was using other Philister students, other young female Philister students, who he's probably also close to, to make." Lyn opened the file Peter had given her on the way down to Observation that contained the information for the Mondrian's seller. She took out the paper and slid it across towards the gallery owner. "This Professor George Messer? This is Gless isn't it?" Chen had her arms wrapped around herself protectively and she was still looking away from Lyn. The psychologist kept her voice low and soothing, kept her face open and accepting. "He used you, Allison you and a lot of others. Tell Agent Burke everything you know about what Gless is doing and I promise, he'll help you." And Lyn would make sure Peter did so. Gless was a bastard. Chen sat back and took a long shuddering breath and finally made eye contact with the redhead across from her. She nodded.
"Yeah, Messer is Brendan." Lyn smiled with genuine gratitude.
"Thank you." The psychologist nodded at the camera in the corner to let Peter know he should come in now and take Chen's statement. As she passed him in the door she whispered a gleeful 'I told you so' and caught Peter's responding smirk out of the corner of her eye.