Chapter twelve: He huffs a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, knowing a headache will be coming soon. Headaches have become somewhat constant since Neal became a part of his life. Peter doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but there isn't really anything he could do to stop it from happening. To be honest, he kind of likes it.
Peter sits in his car, binoculars lowered. Wilkes has disappeared from view, but Peter can't find it in himself to exit his car.
The pang of disappointment and guilt in Peter's chest had only grown during the conversation between Neal and Wilkes. Disappointment, because Neal had betrayed the trust Peter had placed in him. It was as if the kid couldn't stay put unless Peter was there to keep an eye on him. Guilt, because it was the attention from Neal's arrest that got him into this position in the first place. It got his friend captured, and most importantly, it got a bull's-eye on his back.
A hand taps on Peter's window, stopping Peter from wallowing in the guilt and disappointment that was beginning to fester. Peter looks up, startled, but the shock fades instantly once he realizes that it's Neal tapping on the glass.
As soon as Peter rolls down the window, Neal says, "Peter what are you doing here?"
"What do you think I'm doing here Neal?" Peter asks with a stern look on his face. "I'm here to take you back to the safe house."
He decides not to comment on what he saw happen, thinking that that particular conversation is better off said later, when both of them are in the house, safe and sound.
"Peter I…"Neal drops off uncertainly, unsure of whether or not he wants to speak. He knows Peter probably has loads of questions for him, questions that will most likely get them both into trouble, but Neal isn't sure if he has all the answers. He isn't sure of a lot of things nowadays.
Peter seems to understand because he just nods and unlocks the car. Neal walks around the car and sits in the passenger seat, looking everywhere except for where Peter is. The more he looks at Peter, the more Neal wants to spill his guts, wants to tell him about everything.
Neal closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He needs to relax, needs to gain back some self control. He takes another breath, letting it out slowly.
He hears Peter ask, "Do you need me to stop the car?"
Chuckling, Neal opens his eyes and says, "No, I'm good."
"Are you sure? Because if you need to…" Peter stops talking once he sees Neal's smile and smiles back sheepishly. He says, "Sorry I just thought…"
"It's alright Peter I understand." Neal says. Elizabeth has told Neal on more than one occasion how bad Peter is with comforting people, so Neal understands. And although Peter's assumption of his need to puke did cheer him up a bit, it still didn't amount to the fact that his best friend just got kidnapped by a man that wants Neal dead.
The rest of the car drive is silent, and Neal is thankful for it. It gives him time to think, time to reassess what his next move is. Neal doesn't even know how Wilkes knew about Mozzie. Neal had been the one who did all of the talking, he was the one who organized everything. Mozzie had gotten the right information, the right equipment… He never even made contact with Wilkes.
Neal bites the inside of his cheek, letting his thoughts wash over him. He can't keep thinking of how all of this happened, it will just make things more complex than it already is. In order to save Mozzie, Neal will have to exchange the jewels. He doesn't have time or the tools to make another set of forgeries; he doubts that Mozzie will survive if Wilkes finds out that he's been tricked, again.
The only problem with his overly simple plan is that Neal has no idea where the jewels are. He last saw them with Mozzie back at the ratty apartment they were staying in. He had no idea if Mozzie had hidden them away in one of their stashes already, or if they were on their way into someone else's hands.
If he failed in finding the jewels… if he didn't get there in time to save Mozzie… Neal doesn't know what he'd do. He can't lose a friend, not again. He's already suffered through the pain once, and he knows that it doesn't go away easily.
Neal gets so wrapped up in his thoughts that he flinches when Peter places a hand on his shoulder.
Peter doesn't notice –or if he does, he pretends not to- and says, "We're here."
"Sorry, I must have spaced out." Neal says, unbuckling himself and reaching for the car door.
Before Neal can escape to the confines of the safe house, he sees Peter open his mouth, like he's about to say something. Peter's mouth closes and he unbuckles himself, as if he's rethinking about starting a conversation.
Neal leans back in the passenger seat, looking imploringly at Peter. Peter holds his gaze and says, "We'll get him back Neal."
"You don't know Wilkes like I do Peter. He'll stop at nothing to get what he wants."
Peter's eyes narrow and he says, "How do you know him so well Neal? How did you get into this mess?"
Neal sighs exasperatedly and says, "It's complicated."
"I can't help you if you don't tell me the truth Neal. Why is Wilkes after you?" Peter asks, fighting back the urge to put a hand on Neal's shoulder. He knows Neal needs space, but the urge to hold him tight still lingers.
"I… screwed him over." Neal says, voice quiet. His eyes are cast downwards, his gaze locking onto the floor mats.
"You what?" Peter asks, not out of shock, he just didn't hear what the kid said.
"He offered me a job, and I double crossed him." Neal says, his voice louder. He sneaks a glance at Peter, but it shrinks back down when Peter purses his lips.
"Neal…" Peter says, and he resists the urge to rub a hand over his face. He can't believe the messes Neal gets himself into. Trouble just seems to follow him around like a magnet.
"I thought I'd be long gone before he noticed. But he has-"
"And now he's making your life a living hell?" Peter asks, interrupting Neal.
"Something like that, yeah." Neal says, worry flashing in his eyes before they revert back into orbs of blue so bright that it could blind you.
Peter huffs a humorless laugh and says, "You get yourself into the most dangerous messes, you know that right?"
"It's been a recurring problem." Neal says, flashing a somber smile.
Before Peter can say anything though, his phone starts to ring. He plucks his phone out of his pocket and answers it, "Hello?"
"Hey Boss, is Caffrey with you?" Diana's voice rings through the phone, her tone is serious, but Peter can tell that she found something out.
"Yeah, we just pulled into the driveway. What's up?" Peter asked, his fingers still on the keys that are in the ignition. He was about to pull them out when Diana called.
He's just about to pull them out when Diana says, "We just found the man who broke into your house."
"When?" Peter asks, turning on the ignition.
"He's been stirring in interrogation for about half an hour now. I thought you would want to take the first crack at him." Diana says. She offers no more information, but Peter knows that she'll brief him more when he gets there.
"I'm on my way." Peter says, hanging up.
"Peter, what's going on?" Neal asks, clearly confused. He reluctantly pulls back on his seatbelt, and looks confusedly at Peter, who is gazing through the back window in search of oncoming traffic.
"We caught a lead on the guys that broke into my house." Peter says, pulling out of the driveway and onto the street.
It only takes them a few minutes to reach the office, and Neal glances around quickly, observing everything he missed on his first few times here. He tried to walk closer to the wall, to try to see something that was inscribed on the wall, but he was stopped by hearing someone calling his name.
"Neal." Peter called out, somewhat impatient. He was waiting by the elevator, and motioned for Neal to join him.
Neal walks back to where Peter is and says, "Just looking around Peter, no need to worry."
He knows that he isn't the reason why Peter is worrying impatiently, but it helps them both relax, even if it's for a moment.
The elevator opens, unsurprisingly empty for a night like tonight. The two step into the elevator, Peter pressing the button labeled 21. The elevator closes and Neal wonders for a fraction of a second what would have happened if he did run that night, when Jacobs broke into Peter's house looking for him.
He lets those thoughts loose, letting them escape his mind because now is not the time to think of what ifs. It's time to think of now and what's going to happen.
Diana meets them at the front of the bullpen, blue case file in hand. She hands it to Peter, who flips through it quickly. He says, "What do you have for me Diana?"
Diana glances quickly at Neal before answering, "His name is Avery Jacobs, a known gun for hire. He's particularly good at kidnappings; we found a stash of rope and cash in the trunk of his car."
"Good job." Peter says, closing the file in his hands. He eyes Neal and nods towards the darkened office next to the conference room. He says, "Wait in my office and don't touch anything."
Neal raises an eyebrow but says nothing. He walks through the bullpen, ignoring the curious glances he's getting from the other agents sitting at their desks. The lights automatically turn on once Neal walks in, and Peter waits until Neal sits in his chair before leaving for the interrogation room.
Peter follows Diana to the interrogation room, watching as she entered the observation room. He waited a few moments before entering, taking a few breaths. He opens the door and walks in, letting it ease shut on its own.
Jacobs smiles when Peter walks into the room, not even caring that he is most likely going to prison after this. He says, "Well if it isn't Peter Burke. What can I do for you on this fine evening?"
"Why did you break into my house?" Peter asks, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed. He doesn't have time to deal with Jacobs's nonchalant answers or sarcastic answers.
"I don't have to tell you anything. I know my rights." Avery Jacobs says, arms crossed over his chest. He's leaning back in his chair, his posture screaming nonchalance even though Peter knows that underneath the surface the guy is somewhat scared.
"You're right, you don't have to tell me a thing. But it might help your cause if you do."
"What are you talking about?" Jacobs asks as he sat up in his chair. He's interested in what Peter has to offer, which unsurprisingly isn't a lot, but Peter has a card up his sleeve.
"If you tell me why you broke into my house I'll drop the kidnapping charge."
"What? I didn't kidnap anyone!" Jacobs exclaims, uncrossing his arms and placing them on the table.
"Are you sure about that? Because we checked your car and found a stash of cash and quite a lot of rope." Peter says, his eyebrows rising.
"The money was for the break-in I swear. Wilkes only paid me to break-in; I didn't have a part in any kidnapping." Jacobs says adamantly.
"Wilkes? You're working for Ryan Wilkes?" Peter says, eyes widening with the new information. Of course Jacobs would be working for Wilkes, of course. It all made sense now, why he went after Neal, why Neal knew so much about Jacobs… Why hadn't Peter seen it earlier?
"I owed him a favor okay? I wouldn't have done it if I knew I was breaking into a fed's place." Jacobs says. He says it like it's an excuse, as if just the thought of not wanting to break into a federal agent's house would excuse him from being charged.
"You must have owed him a lot of favors then." Peter says his voice sardonic.
"He helped me out of a big problem and I owe him. That's all there is to it." Jacobs said, crossing his arms afterwards.
Neal sat in Peter's desk chair, leaning back slowly. He stretches his back as the chair leans back, and he carefully sits back up once he's done.
He glances over the papers that are strewn around the desk, picking up the closest one to him. He reads it over, surprised at the contents. It was a case file describing a recent theft of the Metropolitan Museum of art. They got away with 4 paintings, all high profile ones that would go for a lot on the black market.
He picks up another piece of paper, and as he reads it a puzzled expression appears on his face. The paper was detailing the possible ways the thief or thieves had got in. One of the ways in, the one Neal would use was listed, and it was marked highly probable for use.
It was puzzling because the style in which the paintings were stolen and the exit/entrance strategy was vaguely familiar to Neal. It was as if the person or people pulling the job had done things exactly the way he would. Not many people were able to do this kind of theft successfully. They had to be quick, nimble, and they had to know where all the cameras and alarms were. And that knowledge isn't easy to come by.
Before Neal could investigate further, his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. He took it out and glanced at the glowing screen before answering.
"Now's not a good time Alex. I'm kind of in the middle of something." He says, still looking over the papers. There was something about this heist that made his stomach churn, as if he knew who had done this. As if something bad was about to happen.
"Well your something can wait, I found something you might want to see." Alex says, her voice full of derision as usual.
"What did you find? Is it about Mozzie?" Neal asks. He's desperate for information, especially if it's about Mozzie. He can't stand the thought of his friend alone and captured, by the man who wants him dead.
"Meet me in our usual place and you'll find out." Alex says curtly. Neal frowns at her tone, and he briefly wonders what the matter is with her before he realizes that she hung up on him.
"Alex!" Neal called out, but it was too late. The phone line was dead.
Sighing, Neal opened up a drawer, grabbed the first piece of paper he could find and wrote a quick message to Peter, saying, "Peter, I found a lead on Mozzie. I know you wouldn't want me to go by myself, but this is something I have to do on my own. I appreciate everything you've done for me, and I'll try to check in as soon as I can, but I make no promises. -Neal"
He places the paper on Peter's desk and peers out the clear walls, making sure no one is watching before he leaves. Neal can't believe he's leaving again, especially like this, but he's not doing it because he wants to. He's doing this because he has to. He has to do this, or else Mozzie will suffer.
And it will be all his fault.