Chapter 3

It's still there! That was Neal's last thought before he opened his eyes. He looked around the room and his hand went automatically to his left ankle. He sighed and lay back in bed. He didn't understand why he still felt it. Well, in his first days in prison he had had to look down to make sure that the anklet was gone. He had worn it for so long it felt…weird not having it on him.

It had been years, and as he looked around his place at June's, he realized what it was. He had never truly been a free man here. He had always had his ankle attachment. He then looked at the clock, realizing what time it was. He usually got up around this time to meet Peter to go to work. Neal rolled over and went back to sleep. He made his own schedule now. And for the next few days he was only going to get up when he wanted. His schedule, his life, was his own.

Neal, Mozzie and June had pooled resources and had bought a building, a warehouse really. It was one of those huge beautiful brick buildings with the gigantic windows. The kind that inventive people made into apartments and that was kind of Neal's idea, with a twist. He would be creating a sort of artist's colony. The location of his building had been planned. It was just blocks from an art school. Neal knew the building the school was in was too small to hold all its classes. Neal had planned on renovating his building to include apartments, classrooms, art studios, and an art gallery. He planned to offer housing and classroom space to the school and its students. He would oversee his colony, using some of the space for his own art studio. Neal would display and sell Neal Caffrey originals and the students' work in the art gallery.

Neal would charge the students rent for the apartments. He would charge them a fee, to use the studio space, which he planned to include in the rent of those living in the building. He would also take a small percentage of the sale of those students' art for the use of the art gallery. Neal would also showcase other students' work, in planned art shows he would do throughout the year, charging the same percentage. He also planned on opening use of the studio to the other students in the school. For those, he would just charge a flat fee for use. And he would charge the school, per semester, for use of the classrooms and the art studios.

When he added up the profits, and subtracted the expenses, he was still making less than he would as a Confidential Informant. Peter had mentioned the salary, hoping that it would be an enticement to Neal. But nothing about the job sounded the least bit enticing. Neal was over that part of his life. He didn't need to risk his life for people who only cared about the information that they could glean from him. He had no intention of becoming obsolete in a world where people used guns to clean up messes, remove obstacles, and in all other ways, solve problems.

June and Mozzie were ready, anxious to continue, now that Neal was home. They could only make so much of Neal's plan a reality with him behind bars. And now that he was out, well, it was full speed ahead.

"Well, Neal…." Mozzie said coming into Neal's space. "We will have enough room for 6 apartments, I know I, at first, told you 7 but…." He noticed that Neal was still in bed, asleep.

Mozzie put down his notepad on Neal's dining room table. He poured himself a glass of wine and took it out onto the balcony.

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"What did you find?" Peter asked Diana as soon as she came into his office.

"There's a building on 24th and Oak that June Ellington bought about 3 years ago. We have contracts from construction companies to do all kinds of work, everything from electrical work and plumbing to drywall. We even found a contract for the services of an interior design firm." Diana handed Peter the folder she had compiled with copies of all the contracts that she could find.

"They had to file plans with the city. Get a copy of the construction plans." Peter ordered just as Jones came to the door.

"This isn't a case." Jones stated.

"No, Clinton, it's not." Peter said, knowing that Jones would say next. "And no, I can't just…let him go. I'm just…I'm checking on him. That's all."

WC WC WC WC WC

Neal threw the covers off and climbed out of bed. He had slept an additional hour and he was now ready to face the day. He crossed his kitchen floor, on the way to the bathroom.

"Oh, by the way, Wineosorous, you need to supplement my wine collection or develop a taste for a decidingly cheaper Chardonnay." Neal called to Mozzie, letting him know that he was up.

Neal returned from the bathroom, a little while later, his waist wrapped in a towel. And he was drying his hair with another. He was dressed, moments later, in a t-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes.

"No unworthy spirit shall ever cross this palate." Mozzie said as he re-entered the room. Then he noticed Neal's attire. "A far cry from the suits…."

Neal shook his head. His heart ached, just a little. But he had to move on. "I need to dress more appropriately. Like the starving artist I really am." He paused. "Who did you steal that quote from?"

"That, mon frère, was a Mozzie original…and you're welcome." He put his wine glass down for a second. "June's got your first job all set up, a family portrait. The Wilson Family, the dad's a banking CEO on the Upper East Side." Mozzie stated

Neal nodded. "At 2:30 p.m. at their townhouse, I got it." June had already given him the address. "I just have to gather up my supplies. June's driver is going to take me."

Moz pulled out a chair and took a seat at Neal's kitchen table.

Neal sighed seeing his friend's expression, he pulled out a chair and sat also.

"You're sure about this. I mean…" Mozzie said. "…do you even know what that means, what it entails?"

Neal sat back in his chair. He had had years, literally, to think about what he was doing now. How he would change things when he left prison. But he had decided this was for the best, and he planned on setting himself up to succeed.

"I know…we used to talk about the risk, the getting away with the crime, avoiding jail time as part of the thrill in performing the time." Neal stated. "It was the motivation to do the crime well and do it in such a way that we would never get caught. And I used to feel that way, Moz. I really did. But the ends don't justify the means for me anymore. It was never about the money for me anyway. We both know that. And know I just…I had only the best intentions with trying to help Peter. It just…I just, I considered them friends, more than friends. I looked up to Peter in a lot of ways. I tried to make him proud of me. I know how it sounds, but you know it's true. And…" Neal got up and walked around the room, mostly so that Mozzie wouldn't see his tears. "…look where it got me."

Mozzie nodded. Neal had told him about the comment Peter had made about the only thing Neal would ever be was a criminal. And Mozzie saw the pain in Neal's eyes when he repeated the story. And then, of course, June and Mozzie had gone to court for Neal's sentencing. And they had heard all the evidence being brought against Neal. They had both spoken to both El and Peter and made their feelings known in the intervening years after the trial.

"El asked me to, Mozzie! She asked me, knowing I could never tell her no. And look where it got me!" Neal said there were still tears in his eyes. And now there was anger mixed in with the hurt. "I knew it was wrong. But I also thought that Peter would be grateful for…for what I did. I never expected him to…to just let me go like that. I never expected him to wash his hands of me. But that's exactly what he did. He got to keep his freedom, his job, and his promotion. I got to lose my freedom, my friends, and the life I knew." He paused again. "The knife wound in my back is still bleeding."

"He did offer. Peter did say that you could be a paid consultant." Mozzie reminded him.

"I couldn't work with Peter after that. Not after…not the way I feel now." Neal replied.

"Agent Burke wouldn't let anything…? Mozzie asked, afraid to finish the bad thought he had.

"No," Neal said. "He'd protect me. But only as a professional obligation and because of the amount of paperwork a C.I.'s death would produce."

The coldness of Neal's statement didn't really surprise Mozzie as much as the change in attitude. Neal wasn't antiestablishment. He was going legit, after all. He was anti one particular fed, it seemed. Neal was still friendly with Diana and Jones, even though he understood that, most likely, they were telling Peter things about him.

"Are we even capable of going…I'm sorry, Neal. I can't even say the word." Mozzie replied.

"We are, Moz." Neal reassured him. "This venture is going to pay off."

"…not like a fenced Monet." Mozzie countered.

"…not like an extended jail term." Neal threw back. "Imagine a whole decade of your life, behind bars."

Mozzie and Neal sat and thought about the conversation, drinking their wine.

June appeared in the doorway at that moment. "Come on, Darlings, much to do." She addressed Neal. She paused when she saw the tears. She hugged him. "I am so sorry, Neal, so sorry." She stepped back and gave him a moment to gather himself. "And we are sorry about last night. But it got to be so late. We just thought it would be better to wait until morning for you to see the space."

"I am really anxious to see what you've done." Neal said. He was glad to just have something to look forward to, something that he was actually excited about. He quickly wiped his tears.

June, Neal and Mozzie had a quick breakfast and then loaded into June's limo to drive to Neal's latest project. The workmen were already on the job. They were in all parts of the building. Some of the spaces were nearing completion, others were just getting started. Given the scope of the project and the systematic nature of the work, delays in one area set the other areas behind. And there had been many delays for a variety of reasons. But things seemed to be going smoothly this morning.

TBC