A/N: This is the last chapter. Thank you for all your exhilarating reviews. I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Let's go Hunting: Epilogue
Neal had never shown his face to Lake; they'd communicated through code in messages, middle men and calls. So when Philip Lake was pulled to his feet he barely glanced at Neal who stood watching with a tense satisfaction.
"I'll call the British Museum tomorrow; find out who the investigators are on that murder case," Peter told Neal brushing the dust off his jacket.
Neal looked at Peter, "What about the grand theft?"
Peter nodded then walked over to where the frame that contained The Lute Player lay next to the wall. He rummaged in his pockets but found nothing he could pick the painting up with, "We'll charge him for that; but the British will want to extradite him for Murder."
Neal moved over next to him and Peter gave him a wary look, "how tempted are you?"
Neal shrugged, "What would I do with it Peter? I don't know who their buyer is."
Peter smirked and Neal sighed realising his mistake.
"Not that I would. I'm innocent," this time Neal sounded tired as if he were reciting a worn line in a play.
The night was filled with a sound that, though Neal knew it wasn't for him, still made him want to hightail it out of there; sirens.
"Ah," Peter rubbed his forehead, tonight was going to be a long one, "the police."
Neal touched Peter lightly on the elbow casting a wary look around as he saw Jones advancing on them through the trees; obviously the two other thieves had been left in Payne's care.
"Are you going to be able to get home alright?"
Peter looked at Neal, he realised Neal intended to leave, he tilted his head a little at Neal; the guy was an enigma; was he seriously checking with Peter to see if he needed a lift?
Peter nodded gesturing to Jones, "I'm sure I can get Jones to give me a ride, we'll have to go back to the office anyway; paperwork."
Neal seemed somewhat disconcerted at the mention of paperwork, but he nodded.
"Here," Neal held something out to Peter; it was a business card, "consider this an I.O.U. One-time-use only- don't waste it trying to trap me."
"What's this Neal?" Peter frowned taking the white plain card from Neal; it only contained only a phone number.
"Call me if you ever need my help with something," Neal gave a broad grin.
"Agent Burke?" Jones had reached them casting a look over the scene.
"It's all secure here Jones," Peter said as he welcomed his subordinate, "the other two?"
Jones nodded to Peter, "we got them."
"Agent Cooper," Peter gestured to Cooper to bring Lake to him , "Escort Lake with Jones; tell the police to take him to FBI. Go with them; make sure they process him into a holding cell; I don't want anyone talking to him until I have. Jones, get the police to bring something to wrap the painting in."
Jones and Cooper nodded before heading off each with a grip on Lake.
Peter took a moment to breathe. He realised he was still holding the rose in one hand and Caffrey's card in the other. He tucked the card into his inside pocket and tossed the rose into the nearest bush.
"So," Peter muttered, "Neal, we need to talk about you breaking into my house- don't bother denying it. I know you did it."
Peter turned to Neal, except he saw no one there. Peter turned again. He was alone in the clearing. Neal had disappeared.
One week later...
Peter pounded on the door, "Caffrey if you're there, open up the door!"
Peter looked around and ignored the almost claustrophobic feeling he had; there were agents around him all pressed up next to each other alert and waiting.
"Caffrey!" Peter pounded on the door again, "You have one more chance- open up. I have a search warrant!"
No answer. Peter moved back and nodded to two agents behind him. The moved up at his signal and rammed the lock on the door before moving back in a single fluid destructive move. Peter pushed the door open and raced in determined to stop Neal from trying whatever trick he might be using to get away.
He wasn't surprised though when he saw an empty room.
Actually it was almost empty. In the centre of the room there was an elegantly carved wooden pedestal. Peter moved over to it ignoring the din of the other agents as they secured the abandoned apartment.
He hadn't really expected Neal to be here. There was no way Peter could expect Neal would still be living- if he ever had- at the address Peter had taken from Neal's licence. Still, you never know what might turn up so Peter had gone ahead and applied for the warrant anyway.
He stared at the pedestal and felt Jones come up beside him.
On the pedestal was an envelope marked 'Peter Burke'.
"What do you think," Jones asked with a hint of teasing in his tone, "another Lunch invitation?"
Peter shrugged and picked up the envelope.
Inside there were two sheets of paper. He pulled out the first. Peter smirked. It was page written in Neal's scrawl; with a title of 'Strangozzi'. Below the title was a recipe written with little side notes; tips on how to bring out the flavour or tasteful suggestions on which wine would go best with the pasta.
Peter returned the recipe to the envelope; Elizabeth would be delighted. He opened up the remaining note and watched as two golden tickets fell out. Jones scooped them up and Peter took them gratefully. He turned his attention back to the note from which they had fallen.
Peter,
Sorry again for interrupting your date night. I've included two tickets to a dinner and show. Trust me, Elizabeth will love it. Movies are for kids Peter. Elizabeth deserves more- and buy yourself a new suit. Go to 'L S Men's Clothing and Custom Suits'. They aren't too expensive. There may be hope for you yet.
XOXO Neal
P.S. I forgot to ask- who was it that chose to watch 'Catch me if you can'?