Chapter Six

Elizabeth busied herself in the living room while her husband ate breakfast at the kitchen table while he pretended to read the newspaper. She knew that he was trying his hardest to keep to up appearances. He didn't want her to worry about him, but Elizabeth wasn't falling for it. She knew that he was just waiting for her to announce that she was off to work so that he could bolt to the office to rejoin the hunt for Neal.

Elizabeth picked up the pace on getting ready to head out the door so that Peter could do the same. She went over to the sideboard by the door to get her purse when she noticed a fine yellow powder on the sideboard glass. Knitting her brow she ran a finger through the mess. There was a large painting just above that she noticed was slightly uneven.

When she straightened the painting more of the yellow powder sprinkled down from behind the painting. Elizabeth lifted the painting up to look behind it. The back paper that covered the back of the frame was peeling off. The powder was the old glue coming off. She picked at the peeling corner and it easily came free. A dozen or so papers fell out from behind the painting.

Elizabeth picked up one of the pages and looked at it. It was covered in Japanese writing and koi fish. Even though she didn't recognize the paper as a bond it still sent a shiver down her spine. She brought it over to Peter who was still 'reading' the same page that he'd been on for fifteen minutes.

"Hon, what is this?"

Elizabeth put the bond down on the kitchen table. Peter glanced at it and suddenly jumped to his feet. He pulled away from the bond as though it was a venomous snake. Peter stared at the bond in horror for a minute before managing to tear his eyes away from it and looking up at Elizabeth.

"Whe...where did you get that?"

"There were a whole bunch of them stuffed behind that painting over there."

Peter craned his head around Elizabeth to get a look at the samurai bonds that were spilled onto the sideboard and floor. Elizabeth could see his thoughts racing behind his eyes. Peter looked at the one on the table again before making a decision.

"Go pack, enough for at least week." Burke ordered.

"What?"

"You can't stay here."

"Peter..."

"Please, El, just do it."

Elizabeth took a breath to protest, but the look in her husband's eyes stopped her. She didn't often see true fear on his face, but it was there now. She nodded and turned to go up stairs and pack. Peter released a breath that he hadn't even known he had been holding. He pulled out his cell phone.

"Jones, here." Jones answered.

"Jones, I need a forensics team at my house now."

"What's going on?"

"El just found what looks like about one to two million dollars worth of samurai bonds hidden behind a painting in our house."

"Someone planted them?"

"No, I stole them." Peter snapped in irritation. "Of course someone planted them. Get a team here *now*!"

Peter hung up on Jones and paced back and forth for a few minutes. When Elizabeth came down stairs he gave her the address of a safe house. She protested, but he insisted and told her to take Satchmo with her. Peter gave his wife a kiss and urged her to leave. Once she was gone he took a closer look at the bond that she had brought over to the table. The left edge of the bond caught his attention as he noticed a rust colored stain on it.

"Is that blood?"

It felt like years before Jones and the forensic team arrived. Once they were there everything seemed to go by in a blur. Prints were found everywhere, but Peter had a feeling that all of them were going to belong to people that were meant to be in his house. Once everything was gathered up into evidence Peter made his way into the office with Jones close on his heels.

"There was something that looked like blood on some of those bonds." Peter said to Jones. "I know it will take time for DNA, but I want a blood type in the next twenty minutes."

"Got it." Jones nodded and went to get the test done.

"Speaking of DNA..." Diana said as she brought a folder up to Peter. "We got the results back on the hair found at the Waterfall heist scene."

"And?" Peter ask as he opened the folder.

"I'm sorry, Boss, it's Caffrey's."

"Damn it." Peter muttered. "Neal, what are you doing?"

"I'm sorry." Diana repeated.

"Wait..." Peter muttered as he read through the report himself. "This says that the hair root was attached to the samples."

"So?"

"So that means the hair didn't fall out, it was pulled."

"Why would Caffrey pull his hair out and leave at a crime scene?"

"He wouldn't." Peter said firmly.

"Unless it's a calling card, or a taunt."

"No." Peter shook his head. "If Neal wanted to taunt me he would have literally signed his name on the wall next to the case, or left his anklet in its place. It would have been something flashier, not a couple of loose hairs."

"So...you think someone's framing Neal?"

"I don't know what I think." Peter admitted.

"If someone is framing Neal, they are obviously interested in taking you down with him." Diana pointed out.

"With the bonds." Peter nodded. "Make it look like Neal stole the necklace, sold it for bonds, split the profits with me... It could have worked if El hadn't found the bonds first."

"With you handing them over as evidence with no inquiry even started it makes it difficult to nail you for conspiracy."

"But what's the end game? This is way too much trouble to go through for just the necklace."

Before Diana could come up with a theory Peter's cell phone rang. He answered the phone, it was Jones.

"It was blood on the bonds, type O negative."

"That was fast."

"It's an easy test and I called in a favor to get it top priority."

"Thanks, Jones." Peter hung up the phone and stared at it thoughtfully for a moment.

"What did Jones have to say?" Diana asked.

"Not good news." Peter sighed. "There was O negative blood on the bonds."

"What does that tell you?"

"It tells me that there is a high probability that the blood belongs to Neal."

"How do you figure that?"

"Only seven percent of the population has O negative type blood. Neal is O negative."

"How do you know that?" Diana asked.

"I talked or rather forced Neal into donating blood with me the last time there was a drive here. Now he gets calls from the Red Cross constantly since O negative blood is the Universal Donor and is in high demand."

"Peter..." Diana hesitated to continue.

"Diana?"

"I thought of an end game for anyone with a grudge against both you and Neal..."

"Don't say it." Peter interrupted. "Just go help Jones figure out where those bonds came from in the first place. Got it?"

"Got it." Diana nodded.

Before she left Diana reached out and put her hand on Peter's shoulder in silent support. Burke forced a brave smile and motioned for her to go help Jones. He waited until she was gone before going to his office. For the first time in as long as he could remember Peter locked his door.

Sitting down at his desk Peter stared at his desk phone for a moment. He didn't know the number that he wanted off the top of his head, but it was on a list that he kept in his desk drawer. After taking a deep breath he picked up receiver and dialed. The phone rang with a shrill cry six times before a tired voice answered.

"New York City morgue."

"This is Special Agent Peter Burke with the F.B.I."

"How can I help you Agent Burke?"

"I need..." Peter cleared his throat "I need a list of any unidentified bodies brought in the last forty-eight hours."

"Hang on." The man said as he started typing. "I've got six Jane Does, one with blo..."

"Skip the females, I'm looking for a caucasian male, early thirties, black hair, blue eyes, lean build."

"Let me see..."

Peter's heart pounded against his ribs as he waited for the county coroner to run through his list of John Does. His stomach was twisting itself in a knot that was becoming more painful as the seconds ticked by.

"Agent Burke?"

"Yes?"

"I have a man here that fits that description. Preliminary report is homicide, his throat was cut."

Peter's blood turned to ice. He ground his teeth against a powerful wave of nausea. With his throat suddenly dry he couldn't ask any further questions.

"It will take me about an hour to get the release, but I can send you a photo once I do. What is your email?"

"N...no." Peter answered once he found his voice. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Okay. Are you missing an Agent?"

"Just make sure no one touches the evidence until I get there."

"Yes, Sir."

The city morgue was across town from the Federal Building, but Peter made it there in record time. He wasn't even sure how many traffic laws he'd violated along the way. Using his badge to get into the facility he met with the flaxen haired man that he'd spoken to on the phone.

"Agent Burke," the coroner greeted solemnly "please, come on back."

"Thank you."

"The local LEOs were in a bit of a rush, they processed the scene, but left the clothing for us to process. The physical evidence is over on the table, the body is in locker five."

"Show me."

Peter looked over at the table that held the victims bloodied clothing encased in plastic evidence bags. His attention was instantly drawn to the black fedora that had been stuffed into an undersized plastic bag. Peter's feet felt glued to the floor as he stared at the hat. He tried to tell himself that plenty of men wore fancy hats in New York, but it didn't stop the increasingly surreal sinking feeling that he was experiencing.

"Agent Burke?" The coroner asked gently. "Are you sure you're ready for this? Would you like to wait until someone else can be here with you?"

"No." Peter said quickly. "Let's do this."

The coroner nodded in sympathy. Peter kept his distance from the lockers as the coroner went over and opened one at waist height. Burke hated himself for losing his courage and looking away before he caught sight of the body. He heard the cold metallic scrape of the table as the coroner pulled the drawer out to expose the man held within. The coroner said nothing and waited patiently for Burke to look up.

Swallowing hard Peter forced himself to bring his eye up. His breath hissed across his teeth at the initial flash of recognition. The coroner thought he had a positive ID so he began to close the drawer. Peter lashed out and grabbed the edge of the icy metal tray to stop him as he took a closer look at the dead man.

"It's not him." Peter whispered in relief.

"Are you sure?" The coroner asked. "It can be difficult to..."

"I know, and I did think it was him at first. I swear they could be brothers. But it's not him. I don't know this man."

The coroner waited a few more seconds to ensure that Peter wasn't just in denial before closing the locker. Peter closed his eyes and dragged his hands through his hair as he recovered from the stress of the close call. He went over to the table with the man's effects and picked up the bag with the hat. Even looking at it closely Peter could swear that it was Neal's signature hat.

"I don't suppose I can borrow this." Burke asked.

"I'm sorry, Agent Burke, but this is an active murder case. If you can't ID the body or prove jurisdiction in this case I can't release the evidence to you."

"I understand."

"You can look at it here."

"Thank you."

Peter put down the hat and went through the rest of the bags. The man's clothing matched well with the hat but he didn't instantly recognize any of it as belonging to Neal. Peter shook his head, realizing how insane it sounded even in his head that any of this stuff was actually connected to Neal in any way. He was starting to see conspiracy everywhere like Mozzie.

Peter was just about to leave when one last detail caught his eye. Although there was no wallet there was a business card among the man's possessions. Peter picked up the bag that held the card and flipped it over to the print side. Peter furrowed his brow when he found that it wasn't a true business card. The fine white card had one sentence embossed into it. Peter held up the card and read it out loud:

"'If you love something...set it free.'."