Chapter 3: Shell Game

El didn't have a chance to see Peter before she left for a rehearsal with her community theater group. She had a leading role in the play which was scheduled to premiere at the end of the month. It was a comedy. Should she treat what happened in the Arkham Files story as a comedy too?

By the time the rehearsal ended, it was late in the evening. As El parked the car, she agonized yet again on how to address the issue. If only she'd been upfront with Peter when they worked on the plot, it would have been so much simpler. Could she make a joke of it? After the matchmaking conspiracy, it felt odd not to have any hidden personal agenda?

Diana posted the chapter yesterday. Peter hadn't read it because he spent most of his free time stripping off wallpaper in the upstairs spare room they were remodeling. She'd made a ham loaf for dinner to thank him for the tedious chore while debating if she should go ahead and mention the changes in store for Arkham El. But if she did, would that place undue significance on it? As June had assured her, it was a natural development of the storyline. Peter might not suspect a hidden meaning.

But deep down, El knew that was wishful thinking. Peter didn't believe in coincidences. He was bound to believe she was the one who'd injected the development.

Was the chapter the topic of today's water-cooler chatter? El felt her cheeks grow hot. Perhaps Peter was too busy to take part.

She knew what she needed to do as she walked up the front steps. They'd chat about it over a nightcap. She'd casually bring up the subject as something to laugh about. There was absolutely no reason to stress. Right. She took a deep breath, willing herself to believe that was true.

When she opened the front door, both Satchmo and Peter were there to greet her. She breathed a silent sigh of relief when Peter didn't act as if anything was wrong. She hadn't waited too long, after all.

Peter asked her about the rehearsal while she hung up her coat.

"I'm sorry you hadn't returned home by the time I needed to leave," she said. "Do you have a new case?"

He nodded. "I can't go into the details, but I can share this much. Sara's in town, and it will be a joint operation with Sterling-Bosch."

"Neal must be thrilled."

Peter hesitated for a moment making her wonder if there were warning flags hoisted. "Neal counts himself very fortunate," he said noncommittally. "Would you like some sherry?"

"You read my mind." She puzzled over Peter's answer. Was the case particularly challenging? If so, the silver lining was that he might have been too preoccupied to discuss anything in Arkham Files.

El walked into the living room. Peter's laptop was on the cocktail table, the monitor facing the couch.

"Go ahead and sit down," he suggested. "I'll get the drinks." He didn't stop to log off so El knew whatever he was working on wasn't case-related.

As she sank onto the couch, she couldn't resist taking a peek at what was on the screen. Her heart dropped when she saw it was a chapter from Standing Stones. Not only that, the key page was being displayed. Despite her best intentions, El reread the words. They suddenly acquired a different connotation.

Peter sat down beside her and placed their drinks on the table. "Whose idea was it for Arkham Elizabeth to be pregnant?"

"Mine," she admitted. "June and I discussed it. We thought it would add more depth to her character."

He gave a neutral nod, betraying no emotion. "Is there any other significance to it?"

"It's hard to say," she said, keeping her voice calm. She was simply discussing the arc of a fictional character. There was not necessarily any connection to the two of them. "What with algolnium now a component of El's body chemistry, there could be unforeseen complications. Mozzie suggested some rather dramatic developments, but I don't believe Diana's signed off on any of them."

He chuckled. "Now I know why she was so discomfited before the morning briefing. She appeared concerned about how I'd view it. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to. It just never seemed like it was the right moment . . ." Her words trailed off and she took a hasty sip of sherry.

"Like with us?" Peter asked, looking at her with sympathy in his eyes. "We never seem to find the right moment to discuss kids."

She nodded, grateful beyond words for his understanding. "Honestly, it first came to my mind as an arc for my character. She needs something in her life besides worrying about Neal and researching zoogs. But as I mulled over possibilities, I thought about our own situation. We've put starting a family on hold for several years. Isn't it time to resume the conversation?"

"Especially since I turned forty this year?"

"It's not just you. In a few days, I'll be thirty-five."

"No one would believe it," Peter said gallantly, giving her a kiss. "I should have picked up on the clues in the previous Arkham Files story." He exhaled slowly. "You didn't want an office for your birthday. You want a baby. I bet you were hoping to turn that room into a nursery."

"That's not true," she protested, dismayed at his reaction. "I don't know what I want. I was test-driving the concept in the story in hopes it would help me decide. A baby would create a huge change in our lives. We'd need to establish new priorities, drop some of our activities. Is this what's best for us? I honestly don't know. How do you feel?"

"I guess I was waiting for you to say something. We'd talked about having kids, and I assumed we would someday. Should I take my cues from Arkham Peter?"

"Forget him. It's your thoughts I want to hear."

#

When Neal returned to the loft that evening, he called Alex to give her the bad news. "We hit a roadblock," he grumbled. "The risk factor just skyrocketed."

"What are you talking about?"

"Does a jewelry heist six days ago in Dorking, Surrey ring a bell? You were careless. Evidence connecting you to the heist was found on the scene, and you were followed to New York."

"That's impossible! They couldn't have anything on me."

"Not only do they have proof, but the insurer, Sterling-Bosch, came to White Collar requesting a joint operation. Alex, they know you're in town. They know what hotel you're staying at. They're watching all the exit points. With the net they've spread, I don't think there's anything I can do to prevent your arrest. Did you intend to pay me with one of the pieces of jewelry?"

Alex exhaled, not saying anything, but she'd already confirmed Sara's suspicions were correct.

"Have you already fenced them?" Neal asked. "If you haven't, it may be too late. Burke and his agents have made an art out of monitoring fences. Mozzie can attest to their skill."

"I wish that was the problem," Alex admitted bitterly. "Wilkes nabbed me after the heist and seized them. He claims he'll return them after I've acquired the painting."

"Is he in town?"

"Yeah, and probably tracking my every move. Any suggestions?"

Neal paused, pretending to consider their options. "Wilkes has been on Burke's radar for a long time. We may be able to salvage this sinking ship. I could tell them you'd reached out to me for help. You were coerced by Wilkes to do the job."

"You could tell him that I'd double-crossed Wilkes because he'd hurt a friend," Alex suggested. "And that's not a lie. You're not the only one who's witnessed his brutality."

Neal knew he had her when she started to fill in the details for him. "If you offer to cooperate with them to take him down, you may be able to cut a deal. But you won't be able to keep the jewels."

"Not even one piece?"

"I don't see how. They have a list of the stolen items."

She sighed. "It will be painful, but okay. How would the painting figure in?"

"They don't know anything about it. It will be tricky, but I think we'll be able to sell the painting to Wilkes. Once he's paid you for it, we'll arrange for the Bureau to be on hand for the jewelry exchange. I'll tell the feds you have the jewels. Wilkes ordered you to meet him in New York. Supposedly your debt to him will be erased when you turn over the jewels. The Bureau will never know that they aren't in your possession now. I'll tell them you stashed them somewhere and won't tell me. Wilkes won't say anything about the painting. He won't want to be charged with an additional crime."

"There are a lot of moving pieces to this scam," she warned.

"You're not worried, are you? The greater the challenge, the greater the reward."

"But I can't just waltz into the Federal Building and say let's make a deal."

"Leave that to me," he assured her. "My connections are why I was able to get a contract with the Bureau. I can tell them that you contacted me for help with Wilkes without giving away any specifics, and I persuaded you to work with us."

The door to his loft opened as he was talking. Mozzie stepped inside, carrying more supplies.

"I'll need to know a lot more about this plan of yours," Alex warned.

"And you will, but we better not try to meet. I'm using a burner phone. I assume you are too."

"Of course."

"Good, because they don't trust me. It's not only you they're keeping track of."

"I take it Alex agreed," Mozzie said once Neal had ended the call.

"She did." Neal stood up from the couch. He related the gist of their conversation while checking the paints Mozzie had acquired.

Mozzie placed a blank canvas on the easel. "You've set yourself a tall order, mon frère—conning Alex and Wilkes before they double-cross you."

Neal winced at the inclusion of Alex.

"Alex will help you up to a point," Mozzie continued. "She prefers to have you owing her a favor rather than the other way around." He mimicked the motion of a wave with one hand. "All the while Wilkes will be circling you both, biding his time till he can snatch you for himself. How did you leave matters with him?"

"On unfriendly terms. I backed out of a job. He probably felt it was a double-cross but the only remuneration I got was relief from not having to work for him."

"Is he familiar with your forgery expertise?"

"I never forged anything for him, and he's not an art expert. I doubt he knows about my skill."

"How likely is it that he knows you're working with Alex?"

Neal hesitated. "She insists she didn't tell him, but if he was following her, he would have seen us together at the lounge or the museum."

"For a job such as this, it's always best to assume the worst-case scenario."

"Any suggestions on how to pull it off?" Neal asked hopefully.

Mozzie retrieved a deck of playing cards from the bookcase. Sitting down at the dinette table, he began to sort them. "Find the Lady has potential."

Pulling a fast one with Three-card Monte? Count him in.

Mozzie placed the queen of hearts, the jack of spades, and the jack of clubs face up on the table. "The queen is the genuine painting. The queen of hearts is symbolic of our Cupid-smitten lovers. The jacks are the two forgeries you'll make."

"Two?" Neal repeated with a gulp. It would be a time crunch to prepare one.

"Surely not that much more difficult," Mozzie said nonchalantly. "Each step you'll simply repeat before proceeding. One of the forgeries will be for Wilkes. He won't keep it for long if the suits do their job as I know they will. The second will be for Alex who'll believe she has the original. She won't realize her mistake until it's too late." He smiled benevolently. "Of course, if she doesn't try to make off with the painting you won't need an extra."

"But this is Alex," Neal said with a chuckle. "She knows how to look after herself."

"Does she expect you to make a forgery?"

"No, she doesn't know that I'm able to fool experts, and I don't want her to find out." Neal studied the blown-up photo of the painting in front of him. Find the Vermeer Lady had a definite appeal, and preparing two identical paintings wouldn't take as long as two separate ones. But forging one Vermeer in the allotted time would mean several sleepless nights. Could he possibly squeeze in one more? He'd already told Alex he'd steal the painting on Sunday night. The work posed unique difficulties because of the different restoration techniques which had been used on it. She'd wanted an earlier schedule, but he'd held her off, hoping she'd agree to Monday when the museum was closed. Sunday evening was the compromise solution.

"I really should take one of your works-in-progress to the Round Table discussion tomorrow," Mozzie said, studying a photo of the painting. "You'll be at the office so you won't miss it. Everyone there already knows what you're doing."

"Why would you want to?" Neal asked, dismayed at the idea. "I will have barely started them."

"For inspiration, of course. The theme of love is highly relevant to the Arkham Files storyline, not that I can get Lady Suit to understand it," he added in a mutter.

"You can't get Diana to go along with your aliens-in-love idea?"

Mozzie shook his head despondently. "Doesn't she realize Lavinia's clock is ticking? With El pregnant, it would make the perfect counterfoil."

"What? El's pregnant?"

"You haven't read the latest chapter? Neal!"

"Sorry, Mozz. What with Alex and just a few other projects, I haven't gotten around to it. Does Peter know?"

"El was planning to tell him tonight. Your reaction to the news is a clear indication of how the world demands more romance and less violence in Arkham Files."

The world? Was someone suffering from delusions of grandeur?

"Diana demands more scenes which pass the Bechdel test," Mozzie went on, oblivious to Neal's unvoiced opinion. "If she'd only develop the love Lavinia clearly displays for me, she'd have the perfect justification for delightful chats between Lavinia, El, and Sara."

Neal tuned Mozzie out. Not for him to stress about Bechdel conversations. The woman in the painting was calling to him to tell her tale, and her clock was ticking even faster.

#

"Valentine's Day is coming up," Angela reminded Eric. "It's the ideal opportunity."

Eric appeared to ignore her as he stood back to eye the mast Michael was holding up. "Did we make it too tall?"

"I don't think so," Michael said. "Remember it will be flying the Jolly Roger. We don't want the kids to get entangled in the flag."

Angela sighed. This was one time she wished they weren't quite so conscientious. Michael and Eric had sacrificed precious evening time to meet with her in the basement of Dodge Hall. They were building props for her Lost in Neverland musical. This semester she was working with a group of six- and seven-year-olds with learning issues. She hoped the fantasy environment would enrich the learning experience for them. And, of course, she'd been far too ambitious, dismissing her advisor's warnings.

Some might wonder why she even bothered with Henry and Eric's love life. But her fiancé Michael knew better. He understood she could multitask brilliantly, and now that her and Neal's love boats were sailing so smoothly, she was determined to let nothing sink Henry and Eric's apparently rudderless craft.

"The mast is perfect," she declared. "It's break time, and those treats Michael baked are calling to me. The pirate ship can wait."

Over chocolate strawberry cupcakes and some of the endless coffee she and Michael guzzled to survive grad school, Angela described her idea in a dazzling display of unassailable logic.

"Now that Henry's on the Arkham Round Table, the timing is perfect," Angela concluded. "If you don't say something, Mozzie and Diana will introduce someone else, and no telling who Arkham Henry will wind up with. It could be a zoog-infested cult member," she warned ominously.

Eric rolled his eyes. "Not exactly someone I'd worry about as a rival."

"But you don't know that for sure," Michael argued. "What if Diana creates a stud muffin for Henry to drool over? What then?"

Angela could have jumped onto Michael's lap and showered him with kisses for the support. "Exactly! Eric, you and Henry could wind up having long arguments over what happens in Arkham Files, even though it has nothing to do with your own situation."

When Eric didn't challenge her point, she continued with her masterstroke. "Look at Neal and Sara. Can you imagine Arkham Neal being with anyone other than Sara? And Neal's the first one to admit how helpful the Arkham characters have been for their relationship." She paused when she heard footsteps in the corridor. A few seconds later, Henry walked in.

"Sorry, I'm late." His eyes widened when he saw the platter of sweets. "I arrived just in time."

Angela smiled. Those cupcakes are going to cost you.

#

"Why two forgeries?" Peter challenged, studying his weary consultant.

Neal had lassoed Peter as soon as he arrived at work, filling him in on what Neal called the Find the Vermeer Lady con. Peter was familiar with three-card monte, but playing it with multiple Vermeers seemed, in a word, excessive. Disaster-in-the-making was even more apt. It didn't help that Neal already looked drained. He'd probably worked on the dual forgeries all night.

Neal shrugged. "Insurance. I like Alex but I don't trust her. If this turns into a shell game, I want to be prepared."

"Will you be able to paint two copies in time?"

"It will be tight, but I got a good start last night. I was able to convince her that I needed to wait till Sunday evening to do the job. I told her the museum was updating its security software this week, and that would be my first chance."

"She thinks you have a way to hack the software."

Neal nodded. "Sitting next to Travis in the lab pays fringe benefits."

Peter still wasn't happy with the idea. He had a niggling fear that the sting would blow up in their faces. Neal and Alex's personal history was a major factor. It wasn't that he doubted Neal's trustworthiness. But would Alex suspect he was playing her? From the first time he saw Alex's photo, Peter had been struck by how much she reminded him of Neal. Peter had no doubt she was every bit as smart and crafty. Neal would need to be on his A-game, not a sleep-deprived zombie.

"All right, you've got my approval, but there will be stipulations."

"Namely?"

"For the rest of the week when you're in the office, you're to report to Storeroom 51 and get as much sleep as possible." The small unused office had been appropriated as a retreat where overworked agents could catch some shuteye. "You are under no circumstances to drink coffee or any other caffeinated beverages at work. Do I make myself clear?"

Neal grinned. "You're such a dad. Is this preparation for the stork's arrival in Arkham?"

Peter groaned. "Did you know about that?"

"Only when Mozzie told me last night. I'd meant to read the chapter Monday evening, but after I found the message from Alex, it slipped my mind. I gather it was news to you too?" At Peter's nod, his smile grew wider. "That must have been quite a conversation you and El had last night."

"She claims she was thinking of the story arc when she suggested it."

"So she admits she instigated it." Neal nodded sagely. "A bold move. I suspect an ulterior motive though."

"You too?"

"She wants to prepare the team for the frightening prospect of you no longer hovering over us because you'll be too busy with little Lisbeth."

"Don't get your hopes up," Peter growled, deepening his voice. "And you never answered me. Do I have your word to live up to the agreement?"

"You do, and I promise to set a good example for my baby sister or brother." His eyes widened. "You could have twins!"

"Out of here!" Peter bellowed.

Peter suppressed his chuckle till Neal had closed the door. The teasing was a welcome way to ease Neal's tension, if not his own. If only the baby could be at least ten years old at birth, Peter might be able to manage. He had no problem getting his team to obey him. But a squalling baby? Someone who couldn't be reasoned with? And if the kid looked like El, he'd be a bowl of mush. Peter took a glug of lukewarm coffee and nearly sloshed it over his shirt. El had been wise to test-drive the concept in a story. They'd talked about parenthood in the abstract, but this was one op he hadn't begun to prepare for.

Notes: Peter won't have much time to stew about a possible addition to the family. In the next chapter, Find the Vermeer Lady takes on a heightened sense of urgency even as romantic complications multiply like rabbits.