Let Your Heart Hold Fast
Chapter 29
Author's note: There is a short scene of somewhat harsh discipline in this chapter. I wanted to give you all fair warning, in case you wanted to skip it. It is only a very small part of the chapter and involves Neal and his grandfather. I hope I don't offend anyone, but it seemed necessary to the story.
Two days before Christmas, Mozzie showed up at the Burke house again. This time Peter was already home, so Mozzie got right down to business.
"Suit, I have some information you might be interested in. An associate of mine had a conversation with someone who had a conversation with Kane and he may have heard a name with some significance."
"Mozzie! Just spill it already!" Peter's voice was filled with frustration.
"Calm down, Suit!" Mozzie said, as he walked into the living room. "Good evening, Mrs. Suit. I'm glad you're here to hear the news." Turning back to Peter, Mozzie finally continued. "Does the surname Bennett mean anything to you?"
Peter's mouth fell open in shock. "Bennett? Like James Bennett? That's Neal's dad's name."
"That is also the name of the man who orchestrated Neal's abduction," Mozzie answered. "This associate of an associate heard Kane say that a man named Bennett was the one behind his most recent windfall. He didn't give a first name, unfortunately, but how hard can it be?"
"You have no idea, Mozzie," Peter sighed." "We've ran James Bennett's name through multiple databases and came up with nothing. No living relatives, at all, besides Neal."
"Well, obviously your database is incomplete, Suit. It's too much of a coincidence that the name is the same as that of Neal's father. Did James Bennett have any brothers? What about his father? Grandfather? Uncles? Cousins?"
Peter sighed in frustration again. "James Bennett was an only child, as was his father, so there are no brothers, uncles or cousins. His father disappeared in a boating accident fifteen years ago and was presumed dead. In fact, he was legally declared dead almost five years ago and his estate has been held in James Bennett's name. Now that James Bennett is dead, it is more than likely being held for Neal."
"A body was never found?" Elizabeth asked. "So, there's a possibility that he could still be alive, right?"
"It's possible," Peter conceded. "But, unlikely. Edward Bennett was a multi-millionaire who had his hands in a variety of illegal things. He was under suspicion for insider trading and embezzlement when he suddenly left the country fifteen years ago. His yacht was found months later off the coast of Florida, dead in the water. Upon boarding the boat, the Coast Guard found multiple empty bottles of prescription sleeping pills and it was eventually decided that he had taken the pills and then thrown himself overboard to escape his legal problems. James Bennett is the one that had him declared dead in absentia."
"He could have faked his own death, Suit, just like Jimmy Hoffa. Or it could have been some sort of a government conspiracy to cover up something more sinister."
Peter rolled his eyes at that. "Mozzie, there was no government conspiracy. But, he definitely could have faked his own death. I need to call Diana and Jones. This might be the best lead we're going to get."
Camille came back from her errands with a small present for Neal. Neal eyed it happily, wondering what it was. "Did you see Santa, Camille? Did you tell him what I wanted for Christmas?"
Camille gave Neal a sad smile. "I told him, darlin', but he said he didn't think he could do that, because you're already home. This is your new home, remember? Even Santa knew that."
Neal's smile quickly faded, leaving his eyes empty and sad. "I wanna go home to Peter and Elizabeth, Camille. I don't belong here."
"Of course, you do. You're Edward Bennett's grandson and this is right where you belong."
Without another word and without taking the present from Camille, Neal turned and ran up to his room. Just as he was about to close the door, his grandfather's booming voice interrupted him. "Neal Bennett, what did I tell you about running in this house?!"
Neal, who was sad and frustrated, turned to his grandfather and stomped his foot. "MY NAME IS NEAL CAFFREY!"
Edward Bennett looked surprised by Neal's defiance and quickly strode down the hall to stand in front of him. Before Neal knew what was happening, Edward brought the palm of his hand cracking down on his left cheek. Neal's eyes immediately filled with tears and he couldn't help the cry that escaped him. Edward continued to glare at Neal with a look filled with anger. "You are Neal Bennett, young man, and I will not stand for such disrespect and outright defiance!"
Again, before Neal knew what was happening, his grandfather pulled him into his bedroom and shoved him to his bed. Neal scrambled to get away from the man, but Edward grabbed his arm and with a quick jerk he pulled Neal to his side. Leaning him forward, he landed five harsh smacks to his backside and then once again pushed him toward the bed.
By this time, Neal was sobbing in both fear and pain. His left cheek was stinging and his backside was burning, but worse than that, Neal's heart was breaking.
Peter and his crew spent all evening and all night trying to figure out what had really happened with Edward Bennett. Peter made sure that Agent Dawson had been filled in on everything, too, but he really only trusted his own team to be completely thorough.
By ten o'clock in the morning on Christmas Eve, they had discovered a few interesting facts about Edward Bennett. Most of their information had come from older editions of some of New York City's gossip magazines and tabloids, which always seemed to find the comings and goings of New York's wealthiest something worth reporting on.
Through these pages, they discovered that four years before his disappearance, Edward Bennett had had an affair with his housekeeper's daughter, who bore him a son. This illegitimate son was the talk of the town for quite some time, even though Edward did everything he could to keep it quiet.
In fact, most tabloids said that Edward Bennett denied the affair or the fact that the child was his. There had never been any type of paternity test to prove otherwise, but one reporter said that he had first-hand, reliable information that Edward Bennett was financially supporting both the child and its mother.
Once Peter's team started digging into the identity of the child and mother, they were shocked to find that both had been killed in a freak accident only months before Edward's disappearance. All of this information filled Peter with dread, but with also a small bit of hope. Maybe…..just maybe…..they were finally on to something.
Christmas Eve was a sad day for Neal. He remembered the Christmas Eve he had spent with Jenna and William with mixed emotions. His mother had died a few months before and Neal could remember that Jenna had tried to make Christmas at least a little joyful. They had put up a small tree and Jenna had even read to him on Christmas Eve, something that she had never done before. When Neal woke up on Christmas morning, there were several presents under the tree for him. William had even been in a fairly good mood that day, and Neal could honestly say that Christmas day was the only good day he spent with the Millers.
He could remember the Christmas before that, too, and just the thought of it brought tears to his eyes. He remembered that his mother always made holidays and birthdays wonderful for him. They baked cookies and made different kinds of Christmas candies. They decorated a beautiful tree and built a snowman out in the front yard. Neal remembered that the house smelled like cookies and cinnamon. He also remembered his mom helping him write a letter to Santa, where he listed all the things he wanted for Christmas.
This Christmas was the worst of all and more than anything Neal wanted to be home with Peter, Elizabeth and Satchmo. He could almost smell the cookies that Elizabeth was probably baking and he could imagine the sound of Peter's voice and the sound of Satchmo's bark. If he closed his eyes tight enough, he could imagine that he was lying in between Peter and Elizabeth, listening to Peter's snores and Elizabeth's gentle breathing. He could smell the flowery scent of Elizabeth's shampoo and the stronger scent of the medicine that Peter rubbed on his back sometimes. If he closed his eyes tight enough, he could imagine that he was right where he wanted to be.
Through a series of fortunate events, Peter and his team finally came across some information that might at least point them in the right direction. After reading all of the tabloid reports about Edward Bennett and his scandalous affair, they finally had a name to check out…Camille Noland. Diana was the first to find the name, mentioned in some obscure article as the mother to the woman who bore Edward Bennett's illegitimate son. Camille Noland had been employed by Edward as a housekeeper in one of his many vacation homes. What made the whole affair so scandalous was the fact that Camille's daughter was only eighteen at the time of the affair. What made it even more scandalous was the fact that the young lady, Corinne, was the same age as Edward's only son, James. In fact, James and Corinne had grown up spending some summers together, whenever Edward and his wife vacationed in that particular home. To think that Edward Bennett would have an affair with a young lady that he had watched grow up was scandalous, indeed.
Once they knew these names, they were able to run them through the different databases at their disposal and it wasn't too long before they had Camille Noland's last known address. Peter quickly called Elizabeth to tell her that they might have a lead, and for the first time in a long time, he felt hope surge through him. Maybe it really was the season of miracles!
Neal thought that he was going to have the pleasure of eating his Christmas Eve dinner with Camille and Pierre, but at the last minute his grandfather called him into the dining room. Neal hadn't seen his grandfather since the day before, so with the events of that last encounter still fresh in his mind, he entered the dining room rather reluctantly.
"Sit down, Neal," his grandfather commanded, obviously frustrated with the boy's hesitation.
Neal quickly went to his seat and pulled himself into the chair. Looking at the different foods on the table, his nose wrinkled up in distaste. Why couldn't his grandfather ever eat anything normal? Neal watched as one of his grandfather's servants filled up his plate with things that looked disgusting. Neal knew that Pierre was a wonderful cook, but these particular foods reminded him of the smelly cheese that Mozzie had once given him.
After several long minutes of Edward Bennett eating his food and Neal just staring at his plate, Edward spoke up.
"What is the problem, boy? You're acting like you've never seen fine food before?"
"What is this stuff?!" Neal asked. "It looks like a snail!"
Edward looked offended at that. "It's Escargot a la Bourguignonne."
Neal's eyebrows furrowed at the strange words his grandfather had said. "What does that mean?" he asked.
"Don't worry yourself with what it means, boy. Just eat."
Neal wrinkled his nose up again and sat back in his chair. "I can't eat that! It looks all slimy!"
Edward threw down his napkin, frustration obvious on his face. "Why do you insist on arguing about everything? You need to learn to do as you're told, boy! Now, eat!"
"I can't," Neal cried. "If I eat that I'm gonna throw up and I don't wanna throw up!" By this time, Neal had crossed his arms over his chest in determination. There was absolutely no way he was going to eat something so disgusting.
At that moment, Pierre poked his head into the dining room and cleared his throat. "Pardon me, Monsieur Bennett, but if I may suggest a different meal for young Neal. I can have something more suitable for a young man's palate in just a few minutes."
"Nonsense, Pierre. The boy will learn to appreciate what is placed before him or he won't eat at all."
"Really, Monsieur…..it's no problem, at all. It is Christmas Eve, after all." Pierre winked at Neal and gave him a small smile.
"That will be all, Pierre. You are excused for the evening. Merry Christmas."
Pierre knew better than to try to intercede again, so with another small smile to Neal, he left the room. Once it was just Edward and Neal again, the uneasiness in the room was heavy. Eventually, Edward spoke again, telling Neal to eat, but Neal continued to refuse, sitting there with his arms crossed and his mouth clamped shut. Finally, Edward told him to leave the room and Neal scampered out of his chair as fast as he could.
Once he was upstairs in his room, he sadly sat by the window, looking out into the cold night. There had been a few snowflakes falling earlier, but they had barely made it to the ground before melting. After sitting there for a while, Neal became bored and without really thinking about it, he walked out of his room and made his way to the bedroom full of toys and books he had discovered.
Peter, Diana and Jones made their way to the address that was listed for Camille Noland, but unfortunately the house was empty. Peter's heart hurt at the idea that they were so close to finding Neal, but had once again encountered a roadblock. He had been hoping to find this Camille woman and maybe have her give answers to a few of their questions about Edward Bennett. He still wasn't convinced that Neal's grandfather was actually alive and responsible for Neal's kidnapping, but it was really the only working theory they had.
Just as they were about to leave, the door to the house next door opened to reveal an older woman looking at them.
"There's no one there," she supplied. "Can I help you with something?"
The three agents quickly walked over to the woman, hoping that she could shed some light on the whereabouts of Camille Noland. After introducing themselves and showing the woman their credentials, Peter immediately asked her if she knew anything at all about Camille.
"Oh, yes," the woman answered. "Camille is one of my closest friends. We went to high school together, believe it or not. Can I ask what business the FBI has with her?"
Peter gave the woman a gentle smile. "She isn't in any trouble. We would like to speak to her about an investigation we're involved in. She may have some valuable information. Do you know where she is or how we can get in touch with her?"
The woman invited the agents into the house as she went to search for the information they needed. Once again, Peter felt hope surge through him and he wondered how much more of the swings between hope and disappointment he could take. Minutes later, the woman returned carrying an address book and a stack of what looked like Christmas cards.
"I have a phone number in here for her, but I haven't used it in a while. We mostly communicate through emails. Oh, and I did receive a Christmas card from her just yesterday."
Once they had the phone number in hand, Diana excused herself to try and call Camille. Peter and Jones, in the meantime, took the Christmas card, hoping to get a return address. Unfortunately, there wasn't one on the envelope, but by the postal date and time stamp they could tell it had been delivered from somewhere in the Suffolk County.
When Diana returned, saying that the phone number was no longer in service, Peter asked the woman for Camille's email address. Once she had retrieved that, they thanked her for her help and left, thankful for at least having something else to check out.
Neal spent the next hour reading the many different books in the room he had found, trying to take his mind off of the fact that it was Christmas Eve and he was far, far away from the only place he wanted to be. He lost himself in books that looked like they had never been read and played with toys that looked like they had hardly ever been played with. At one point, he opened up a book to find something written on the first page. He had a hard time reading the loopy writing with all the letters connected together, but he was able to make out a few words here and there. The book had obviously been given to someone named Andrew by Edward. Neal wondered who Andrew was.
Neal was looking through a book about France when he heard heavy footsteps treading up the stairs. Immediately recognizing them as belonging to his grandfather, he jumped up and hid underneath the bed, sliding his body as far back as he could. Seconds later, the door opened and Edward Bennett walked into the room. Neal watched as the man stood in the middle of the room and looked around at all of the books and toys. Luckily, Neal had taken the time to put each of the books away when he had finished them. Unless his grandfather looked really closely, there wasn't any evidence that Neal had been there.
Neal waited for what seemed like hours, watching as Edward paced the room, and holding his breath as the man sat down on the bed. Finally, his grandfather stood up, straightened the bed spread, and left the room. Neal let out the breath he was holding and after waiting for several minutes, finally crawled his way out from under the bed. Without another thought, he put the book he was holding back where it belonged and went back to his room, making sure that no one witnessed his little excursion.
After several more hours of consulting with the White Collar computer technicians, they had finally managed to track down Camille Noland through her recent email activity. Apparently, she lived in a residence in Southampton, which was several hours away, and within fifteen minutes, Peter had tried and failed to get the FBI to sanction a trip to Southampton that night. No amount of finagling on his part changed the minds of the powers that be that decided that the evidence they had gathered was insufficient to okay such a trip.
Frustrated with his beloved Bureau, Peter did the only thing he could do….He called Mozzie.
After Neal took his bath, he put himself to bed, trying not to wonder if Santa would still bring him presents that night. He knew that he had been naughty a lot in the last year, but he really hoped that Santa would realize that he tried to be good. For some reason, he just found it really hard to be good all the time and he hoped that Santa hadn't put him on the naughty list.
Just as he was about to fall asleep, his bedroom door opened and Camille walked in. "Neal, darlin'? Are you still awake?"
Neal rolled over and looked at Camille. "Did Santa come, Camille?"
"Not yet, darlin'. Probably because you're not asleep yet."
Neal suddenly sat up in bed. "Camille! We didn't put out any cookies for Santa! My momma said that Santa needs cookies and milk so he can make it to everyone's house on Christmas Eve."
"I thought you might say that, Neal, so I had Pierre do a little baking this afternoon. Why don't you come downstairs and we'll set them out for Santa?"
Neal scrambled out of bed and followed Camille downstairs, hoping that he wouldn't run into his grandfather. Once they were downstairs, they grabbed the plate of cookies and poured a glass of milk. Neal snuck a cookie when Camille wasn't looking, figuring that Santa didn't really need four cookies. Taking the plate and glass into the foyer where the Christmas tree was, they placed them on a table next to the tree. Neal sat down next to the tree for a while, looking up at the Christmas lights. He could imagine Peter and Elizabeth doing the same thing, and he wondered if they missed him at all. Maybe they had already forgotten him. Or maybe they had replaced him with another little boy who wasn't as much trouble.
As he sat there, he couldn't help the tears that streamed down his face and Camille wasn't surprised to see them. With a gentle touch, she pulled Neal to his feet and led him back upstairs. Tucking him into bed, she leaned down and kissed him on the head. "I wish I could give you your Christmas wish, darlin'," she whispered. "But I can't."
"It's okay, Camille," Neal answered sleepily. "Christmas isn't over yet. Santa still has time to give me what I asked for."
Author's (second) note: I really thought that things would be resolved by this chapter, but I guess not. Peter must have had a hard time tracking Mozzie down, right? Anyway, things seem to be on the right track at least.
I hope the short CP scene didn't offend anyone. There won't be any more scenes of such nature in this story. Poor Neal has been mistreated enough, in my opinion. Although, I guess there might be a few more scary scenes, depending on how the rescuing pans out.
Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, everyone. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that my stories would garner such a response. I am in awe and deeply humbled.
