Disclaimer: White Collar and the characters borrowed for this story are the creative property of Jeff Eastin. This story was written and shared solely for the enjoyment of other White Collar fans. No copyright infringement is intended.

Forged Friendships

Chapter – 9 Restraining Orders

"Come on, come on, come on!" Dr. Angela Turner stood impatiently rapid fire slapping the up-button on the elevator, in a pointless attempt to will the lighted floor numbers to travel faster.

"Nooo, don't stop. Don't stop now!" With a frustrated sense of urgency, she slapped the wall with the palm of her hand, turning to run for the stairway. It was 5:37 am, this shift was turning into an exhaustive eternity of STAT pages and the mad dash up the eight flights of stairs wasn't going to help improve her mood. How could Mr. Caffrey's condition be going south? She was planning to upgrade his status in the morning and schedule him to have his broken leg pinned. Damn this just wasn't her night.

Vanessa quickly reduced the angle of the bed and positioned Neal flat on his back, stripping the bloody patient gown from his torso and applying another surgical dressing as Kathy opened the chest tube tray in preparation. Neal's pulse was rapid and weak, blood pressure bottoming out. The veins in his neck were visibly distended and to make matter worse Vanessa couldn't hear any breath sounds on his right side. His lung was completely collapsing; the outside air had rushed in creating pressure inside his chest cavity. Neal's combative thrashing had compounded the problem and Dr. Turner was going to have to work quickly to save his life.

"Mr. Caffrey, don't you dare code on me! You hear me? I don't lose two patients in one night." She pulled the oxygen mask down from the wall mount above the bed and positioned it over his nose and mouth, turning up the flow meter to 40 liters/minute. Neal's pale skin felt cold and clammy against her hands, his lips dusky, blue eyes half closed in a chilling glassy stare.

Lowering the bedside railing, Vanessa positioned Neal's arm above his head placing unavoidable stress on his injured shoulder, as she painted his side with Betadine and secured the surgical drape in place. Her heart was pounding in her throat as she looked down at her patient struggling with each shallow breath. In reality, it had only been a few minutes since Neal had lost consciousness but it felt like an eternity as they waited, knowing the pace would be swift once Dr. Turner arrived. Kathy and Vanessa simultaneously exhaled as they heard the door bump back and the sink turn on.

Quickly scrubbing her hands, the doctor approached the bed, pulling on a fresh pair of surgical gloves. "Damn it, what the hell happened here? He was doing so well. Please tell me these drains didn't get caught in the bed railing."

Placing her stethoscope against Neal's chest, she rapidly assets his condition, concurring that his lung had completely collapsed and motioning to start the procedure. As a precaution, Vanessa held Neal's right arm in position above his head as Kathy held his left arm down at his side. "Make sure he doesn't move that right arm, once I start."

Dr. Turner steadied her free hand against Neal's chest as she injected a local anesthetic into the tissue between his ribs and rapidly made a parallel incision above the previous one. Inserting a SW clamp into the wound, she separated the tissue creating a path for the chest tube. Vanessa knew that the local anesthetic barely had any chance to be effective because of the criticality of the procedure. However, she wasn't prepared when Neal cried out in pain, forcefully jerking his arm up and catching her square across the cheek with his fist. "Shit, are you okay? Hold him still. I'm almost done here."

Blinking and seeing stars, she shook her head, "Yeah, he, he just barely caught me. I'm good."

Continuing with the procedure, Dr. Turner inserted a large bore chest tube and secured it with several sutures as Kathy connected it to the Thora-Seal. Looking up at the monitors, Vanessa was relieved to see Neal's vital signs starting to improve as Dr. Turner sealed around the incision with a layer of Vaseline gauze. "We really didn't need this tonight. Can one of you explain what happened with Mr. Caffrey?"

Not waiting for an answer, she lifted the gauze from the previous incision and sutured the gaping wound closed, taping over it with more gauze. Dr. Turner dipped her head down and signed with relief as she observed Neal's breathing become less labored and a slight tint of pink return to his lips. She handed Kathy the roll of gauze to place back on the tray as a trail of blood trickled across the surgical field in front of her hand, staining the clean drape. "He's bleeding this much from pulling out a surgical drain? Let me look."

Kathy pulled back the surgical drape exposing Neal's saturated abdominal dressing. Dr. Turner ran her gloved hand back through her hair and shook her head in frustration. Vanessa glanced at the doctor and swallowed hard knowing that as head nurse, she was ultimately responsible for Mr. Caffrey's condition.

"When I checked on him an hour ago, he was sleeping. I was at the desk finishing a chart when I heard him scream. Kathy and I rushed in to find that he had pulled out both the chest tube and the surgical drain along with a line staples. I think he had a nightmare. He kept insisting that someone was going to be killed and that we must call Agent Burke. He continued ranting inconsolably and was extremely combative until he lost consciousness a few minutes later. I had Kathy page you immediately."

Dr. Turner changed her gloves and peeled back the surgical dressing. "Damn, he sure made a bloody mess of this. How could he possibly manage to tear all this open?" She grabbed some gauze squares and began mopping up the blood that was spilling across his chest. "This is going to leave a nasty scar. How much fluid did you collect from his drain at the shift change?"

"Only a few milliliters. The volume has been dropping off significantly since last night."

"That's good; we'll try going without the drain for now."

She injected additional local anesthetic along the now jagged incision before reclosing and dressing the wound. "At least he won't be in pain for a little while."

Vanessa was lightly pressing against her cheekbone and grimacing as Angela turned stripping off her soiled gloves, stretching and massaging her tired low back. "Wow, he caught you good. Better, put some ice on that before it really starts to swell."

An audible exhale escaped Vanessa's lips as she started to clear the used supplies from the bedside. Dr. Turner realized that her tone had been unduly harsh and reached over to touch Vanessa's arm. "We've all had a rough night. This wasn't your fault and Mr. Caffrey is going to be okay. I'm writing an order for soft restraints until we can get rid of this chest tube. Call for an x-ray of the tube placement and his right shoulder and get me a complete blood count. I'll check back before the end of the shift."

Nodding her head, Vanessa picked up the phone to call for a portable x-ray. Sliding into the chair beside Neal's bed to wait for the technician, the weary nurse slouched forward, taking in some deep breaths while trying to regain her composure. She was relieved just knowing that she wouldn't have to face the Burke's with bad news. Praying it could have been the same for the other young man's parents. Taking in one more deep breath, she stood and walked across the hall to the linen closet, pulling down a fresh patient gown from the top shelf.

Unfolding the gown, she draped it over Neal's severely battered body, observing fresh deep bruising along his prominent collarbone. She delicately placed her hand against the painful injury and closed her eyes. "You poor dear man, I am so sorry this had to happen."

Vanessa was nearly finished dressing Neal in the clean blue paisley gown as his eyelids fluttered open. Taking his hand in hers, she gently squeezed it. "You gave us quite a scare, Mr. Caffrey. Promise me, no more do-it-yourself medical procedures like that."

Neal lifted his hand sliding off the pulse oximeter as he reached up toward the oxygen mask. "Whoa there," Vanessa cautiously leaned in to stop him. "I need you to keep that in place for a few more hours. I know it's uncomfortable but your oxygen level is still too low."

Focusing on his nurse's face he stared upward, his piercing blue eyes expressing an irrepressible sense of urgency. "Vio-let .. my f-fri-end is in d-dan-ger. Pleez c-call Pe-ter ..."

Vanessa placed a calming hand on his shoulder. "I will call Agent Burke as soon as we have you settled but you can't allow yourself get so upset again. Believe me; neither of us is up for round two."

Again lifting his hand, he placed his trembling fingers gently against Vanessa's cheek. "W-wha h-hap-pend here? Di-d I?"

Quietly smiling, she guided his hand back down to his side, wrapping his fingers into her soft palm. "It's okay; I just need to practice my bobbing and weaving some more. The important thing is that you're still with us."

Neal closed his eyes, visibly upset by his apparent actions. "I-I've n-nev-er hit a-a wo-man … em so sor-ry."

She leaned in close and with a comforting touch brushed his hair back off his forehead. "Shhh, no need for apologies."

Tightly squeezing his eyes shut, he rolled his lips under fighting back the tears. "Mr. Caffrey, look at me", she cradled his cheek in her palm. "It's okay. It was just an accident."

The abrupt clamor of x-ray machine rolling into the room and bumping the wall, startled Neal and he anxiously flicked his eyes open. Vanessa softly patted his arm. "Try to relax. It's just the portable x-ray machine. Dr. Turner wants a few 8X10-color glossies of that sexy purple chest and shoulder of yours for her collection." She smiled, winking at him. "You just lay back and listen to Earl and I will go call Agent Burke for you."

She handed the technician Dr. Turner's orders, exiting the room. "Be gentle with him, it's been a long night."

Peter Burke drew his eyes open and rolled onto his side, fumbling for his cell phone and squinting at the alarm clock, 6:15 am. He turned the brightly illuminated phone screen toward him, trying to focus on the number. Who would be calling at this hour? He groggily answered, as his trepidation began to wrench him fully awake.

"Agent Burke here … Uh huh … Is he okay? … When? … Violet …. Tell him I'll be there as soon as I can … Thank you for calling … No, unfortunately this probably isn't just a nightmare."

Waiting until Peter ended the call, Elizabeth rolled toward him, propping her head up on her hand and wrapping her arm around his waist in a nervous embrace. "That was the hospital, wasn't it? Honey, please tell me that Neal's okay."

Peter softly caressed his wife's arm, "El, honey that was the ICU nurse. Neal had some bad nightmares and in his confusion pulled out a bunch of his tubes and stitches. He's doing okay but he keeps on insisting that he needs to talk with me. I've got to go now."

Tossing the covers back, Peter exited the warmth of their bed as Elizabeth sat up turning on the small bedside lamp. He leaned in and kissed his beautiful wife on the forehead. "El, you need to try and get some more sleep. I'll let you know how he is doing."

El pushed back the comforter while Peter was pulling on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

"I can't stay here and sleep knowing that Neal was upset enough to hurt himself. I saw first-hand the condition of his chest with all those tubes. I can't imagine the pain or how scared he must have been if he pulled any of that loose."

Grabbing a clean t-shirt from the top drawer, Elizabeth was already half dressed when Peter agreed that it would be a good idea if she came along for support, not just for Neal but for him as well. Seeing his partner in his current condition was more than a little unsettling to him. With a guilty heart, he realized just how heavily he was relying on his wife to get him through this situation. However, for now he pushed those emotions aside and rushed down the stairs.

Peter looked up from scraping the car windshield just in time to see Elizabeth hurry down the front steps carrying two travel mugs and a tote bag. She leaned into the front seat placing the mugs into the cup holders and grabbing the lap blanket from the backseat. Hastily clearing the back window, he joined his wife in the warm car, picking up a mug and taking a long sip of the strong brew. "Thanks El, I needed an extra jolt this morning."

Placing the cup back into the holder, he squeezed her hand that was resting on the console between them. He wouldn't lie to himself. He was concerned. If Neal was still in such a distraught state, it might be a bad idea to disclose any details about the plans he'd made with Violet and Mozzie. Compounding that concern, Elizabeth had shared with him that June felt Neal and Violet were more than just close friends.

It hadn't been a year since the tragic events surrounding Project Mentor. If this woman was more than a friend and something happened, Peter didn't want to think about the consequences. Neal had forfeited an additional four years of his life, yearning to be with the woman he loved, to have that hope dashed away in a fiery explosion. If Violet somehow filled that void for him, Peter would do whatever possible to keep her safe. Looking in the rear view mirror, he pulled out into the empty street. El reached over, touching his arm and smiling reassuringly. "Honey, don't worry, you'll get Neal through this."

The staff was gathered at the Nurse's Station presenting the end of shift report when the Burke's arrived. Peter approached the desk, tapping on the counter to get Vanessa's attention. Excusing herself, she stepped out into the hallway. "Agent Burke, Mrs. Burke, my shift is nearly over. If you can wait a few more minutes, I will update you on your friend's condition. You can wait in our lounge," she motioned down the hall to the doorway on the left. Recognizing the look of concern on their faces, she turned facing Elizabeth. "You don't need to worry. He's doing okay."

El stepped forward and hugged Vanessa tightly, noticing her puffy bruised cheek. "Thank you for being so caring with Neal." Slightly turning her head, she whispered, "What happened to you?"

Her bruised cheek was becoming very apparent and she reached up to cover it with her hand. "It's nothing, just an occupational hazard. Mrs. Burke, please excuse me, I must get back to my patient status report."

Peter and Elizabeth entered the brightly lit staff lounge and sat down at the round table, absently listening to the news channel playing in the background. A small Christmas tree twinkled on the counter top next to the microwave and a poster advertising a Secret Santa Luncheon was taped to the wall above a rack holding a collection of coffee mugs. Elizabeth scanned the photos, cards and thank you notes tacked on the bulletin board beside a row of lockers. She smiled knowing that this room reflected the personal lives of all the staff members.

Pushing back the weighty door, Vanessa entered the room, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to Peter. "I am sorry for the wait but I needed to talk with you before you go in to see Mr. Caffrey. As I told you on the phone, your friend pulled out his chest tube a couple of hours ago. His lung completely collapsed, requiring an emergency procedure and we almost lost him. He is very weak but insistent on talking with you about his friend Violet."

Interrupting the nurse, Peter interjected, "The FBI is already aware of the situation with Violet. Based on what you are telling us, it doesn't sound like Neal is strong enough to involve him in any details of this impending operation."

"Agent Burke", Vanessa held her hand up in objection, "I don't think that you understand. Mr. Caffrey isn't about to let this go until he talks with you about this friend. You need to reassure him that the FBI is handling it. Maybe have this friend visit him. I can make arrangements with Stephen."

Leaning toward her husband, Elizabeth nodded in agreement, "Honey, maybe having Violet visit would help calm Neal's fears."

Standing, Peter shook his head, "No, that is too dangerous for both of them. I'm actually going to have one of my men assigned as an undercover agent on this floor."

"Agent Burke, please take a seat." The nurse drew her eyebrows into a strained frown. "If you think that there is any danger to the patients or staff, you need to speak with our security immediately."

Peter massaged his forehead, dragging his hand down the side of his cheek. "Don't worry, I'll be taking care of that just as soon as you're finished kicking me out for upsetting Neal."

Room 811 was awkwardly silent as Stephen slipped Neal's hand into a mesh mitten and wrapped a padded restraint around his wrist, securing it to the bedside railing. Neal lay motionless on his back staring incoherently up at the ceiling, as the nurse secured his injured shoulder in a sling, tucking the restraining strap down under his waist. "I'm sorry, Mr. Caffrey. I know that this is uncomfortable but Dr. Turner ordered these for your own protection. It's only until the chest tube can be removed."

Neal nodded turning his head, his gaze fixated on the plain sterile green wall as Stephen pulled the covers up, concealing the waist restraint from view. "Mr. Caffrey, it looks like you have some visitors now."

Approaching the bedside, Peter immediately noticed that Neal's wrist was secured to the bed railing. A smirk crossed his face as he looked over at the nurse. "Neal, what cha been doing? " He jokingly tugged on the restraint. "Flirting get you into trouble?" He chuckled, "I think you're under estimating our friend here. He'll wriggle his way out of this the second that you leave the room. You can borrow my handcuffs if you'd like. That might slow him down to a few minutes in his current condition."

Neal abruptly turned his head to face Peter. "I-it's not fun-ny!" He gasped straining to lift his head from the pillow. "I-I hit a nurse." His face now reddening with embarrassment, "I hit a-a wo-man in the f-ace. Don't need to w-worry a-bout me wrigg-ling out of a-any-thing!" In exasperation he struck the bed railing, his mesh encased hand, balled into a tight fist.

Wincing, El stepped quickly to Neal's side scooping up his tightly clenched hand, enfolding it in her gentle grasp. "Neal, whatever happened. I am sure it was an accident." Dropping her eyes down to the restraint around his wrist and then looking back up at the nurse. "Are these really necessary?"

Steven leaned over and temporarily released the wrist restraint. Standing, the nurse spoke to Neal in a soft but serious tone. "Mr. Caffrey, please try to relax. These are only in place to keep you from pulling out your chest tube while you sleep. Dr. Turner ordered them because you almost died last night." He pointed to the padded lump under Neal's arm. "There's no need for you to worry. Vanessa is okay and she doesn't blame you. She felt terrible that they had to insert another chest tube with very little anesthetic. This was an accident, an unfortunate accident because you were in pain."

Looking at the nurse, Elizabeth nodded her head. "He understands. This is just hard for him to accept. It is so out of his character."

The restraint easily slipped off Neal's slender hand as Elizabeth gently coaxed his fingers to release their grip, lightly massaging the indents in his palm. "See, no one blames you."

Wearily fighting the deep fatigue, Neal dropped his head onto the pillow, curling his long fingers around El's pinky. From the very first day in the Burke's living room, El had a way of putting Neal at ease, making him feel welcome and trusted.

"Mr. Caffrey, I will leave you to your visit. If you need anything, just use your call button."

Peter stiffly patted Neal's shoulder. "Sorry about the badly timed humor. You know I'm not great with the whole bedside consoling …"

"R-re-lax, I don't pl-an on cry-ing ... jus need yu to cow-boy up, bud-dy." He gave El a slight smile. "Cou-d yu pleaz raise my h-ead." Grimacing slightly as he pushed the morphine button. "En try not ta f-old me in h-alf."

Leaning over, Peter located the bed controls. "There's one here labeled Murphy bed. Will that do?" Peter taunted as he slowly raised the head of the bed. "Tell me when to stop."

"That's g-ood." Neal attempted to shift into a more comfortable position as Elizabeth came to his rescue with a second pillow for him to hold.

"Th-anks, Liz-beth." He murmured, hugging the pillow to his aching stomach, the effectiveness of the numbing medication lessening. Trying to recover some strength, Neal closed his eyes, his breathing deliberate and shallow and face void of any coloration. Watching Neal in this fragile state made El's heart break. It was all she could do to restrain herself from calling for the nurse as Neal opened his eyes and stared over at Peter.

"Pe-ter we need to t-talk a-bout my f-rend … Violet. S-shez in dan-ger. Mar-cus Glas-en-ger's men a-tacked me an ther going to k-kill her. Once she sh-shows them how ta m-make the c-oat-ing … she-z dead." Neal licked his dry lips and pushed his head heavily back into the pillow, closing his eyes in exhaustion. "Nee-d a dr-ink."

"Are you allowed to drink or should El get you some ice?"

"Nn-no, I can dr-ink now." He extended his trembling hand and pointed to the cup and pitcher on the bedside tray.

El quickly stepped to the other side of the bed and poured a small amount of water into a paper cup. Adjusting the straw, she held it to his lips allowing Neal to sip. He gazed up at his friend, taking a pause to breathe through his mouth, as the water dripped from the straw onto his gown. El quickly tipped the straw up and blotted at the gown with a tissue.

"Ox-gen make-s my ... mm-outh dry."

El stroked his hair in a soothing repetitive fashion, curling a longer strand back behind his ear.

"You take your time, Neal. We're here to help you."

He nodded his head to thank her as he took another small sip. "Nuff, th-thank-s"

Peter stood at Neal's side feeling useless, relieved that Elizabeth was so patient and caring with his friend and partner. Seeing the younger man struggling with the simple task of taking a sip of water made him furious. He wanted nothing more than to locate Marcus Glassenger this minute and personally make him pay for all of Neal's injuries.

"Neal, we met Violet last night at June's. Mozzie is staying with her and I have Jones and Cruz undercover at the hotel. There's also a detail of men watching her uncle."

"Use Moz … h-he'll co-oper-ate with the bu-reau s-since it's for Vio-let. Don p-push him th-ough."

"Neal, please stop talking and let me explain. You're exhausted." Peter pulled the chair up close to the bedside and sat down. "Violet is to meet with Glassenger to run some tests on a painting then and show him how to make her coating."

Neal started to shake his head in objection, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Pe-ter, yu can't l-let her m-eet with him. He'z plan-ing to k-kill her … to m-make me p-ay! He m-ost likely w-will hire a stu-dent or c-che-mist … to l-earn t-the pro-cess. It h-as to be m-made in-a l-ab ... w-with the righ-t f-facil-ities … Moz c-can help nar-row tha-t d-down."

"Neal, please …"

"Vio-let w-will want fr-esh lots … of the che-micals. Her for-mula is o-ver tw-twelve year-s old and s-ome … of the che-micals h-have to be im-ported fro-m Ch-ina. Im-port lawz ch-ange … b-be-cause of en-viron-ment con-cerns. Yu n-eed to tr-track the chem.-ical sup-pliers." He stopped and drew in a ragged breath, wincing and holding the pillow tighter.

"I see your point but will still have to catch him with the stolen painting, forgeries and or the coating."

Neal jerked himself up, leaning near Peter's face and snapping. "NO! YU CAN'T … T-AKE VIO-LET!"

Peter gently pressed his partner back against the bed. "Neal, please calm down or we'll be asked to leave."

"Yu don under-stand." Neal grabbed Peter's sleeve and pulled. "Glass-en-ger is too … ss-mart for a gr-ab and go. H-he'll ch-eck for w-wires an tr-ack-ing de-vices. Yu can-t … r-rely on them … to know w-where she'll be tak-en."

Elizabeth nervously looked at her husband as Neal's face reddened and he started gasp. "Neal, please lay back and drink a little water. Try to relax and breathe slowly."

She held the straw to his lips as choked down a few sips of water. Again gasping, he looked into Elizabeth's eyes. "El, I love her." He'd said it aloud. At that moment, the words didn't seem so scary but the thought of losing her terrified him. "I-I can't l-loose her."

Peter tried to mask his emotions and reassure his partner that Violet would be protected. "Neal, the crime lab has placed a bug and a tracking device inside her test instrument. The instrument can be powered up without the devices being detectable. They don't activate until she closes a sample in the test chamber. We will have cars in the streets and eyes in the sky."

"Pleaz Pe-ter, don't take th-this chance … tr-rack the chem-ical im-ports. Kee-p her a-way fro-m him. PLEAZ! Neal's voice suddenly became loud and wavering.

Trying to placate Neal, Elizabeth picked up the cup of water from the tray table. In a fit of frustration, he grabbed the cup, squeezing it and splashing water all over himself."

Amid the commotion, the Burke's hadn't noticed Crystal hastily entering the room with a stern look on her face. "I'm sorry but I am going to have to end this visit. That's the second time I heard Mr. Caffrey's voice out in the hallway."

Peter apologized to the nurse as El quickly said goodbye to Neal, kissing him on the cheek. "Neal, I'm so sorry we upset you. Peter will keep her safe. We'll stop back when you're feeling up to having visitors."

Crystal exited the room behind the Burke's, stopping them in the hall to discuss Mr. Caffrey's condition. "You realize that your friend is extremely weak and placing him under this amount of stress is unacceptable. I insist that you allow him to rest until tomorrow. If there are any significant changes to his condition, I will contact you immediately."

Peter held his hands down at his side in quiet surrender. "We're very sorry. It wasn't are intention to upset Neal. We'll check at the desk before we visit again. If he asks, please reassure him that his friend Violet is safe. Tell him he has Peter Burke's promise of that."

Crystal nodded in agreement, as she headed for the linen closet to retrieve a towel and dry gown.

"Mr. Caffrey, are you comfortable with me changing you into something dry or would you prefer Stephen to come in to help?"

Neal was exhausted but he saw one last chance to help Violet. "I-it's o-k with me." He smiled weakly at her, drawing his pale blue eyes to the side in an upward gaze.

"Oh I see my big flirt is back in action."

She patted his hand and pulled his covers around his waist, peeling off the wet gown. Lowering the bed railing, she carefully leaned in and blotted him dry with a thin white towel, her lab coat pocket dragging across the edge of the bed. Neal knew his hands were shaky but he hoped her movement against the side of the bed would help disguise his clumsy attempt at lifting the phone from her pocket. He almost had the compact phone concealed in his palm when the quaking of his hand dislodged it, dropping it onto the bed in clear view. Neal quickly slid his hand down his side snatching the phone as he distracted her with an abrupt cough and an overly dramatic grimace.

"Are you okay, Mr. Caffrey? Let's get you dressed and back under the warm covers."

The unsuspecting nurse turned to pick up the dry gown as Neal concealed the phone in his palm and slid it inside his sling.

"Now let's get you settled in Mr. Caffrey. It's only 8:00 a.m. and you've already had too big a day."

Crystal finished dressing him and carefully slid his hand into the restraint, securing it loosely to the bed railing.

"I'm sorry about the restraints. I know they're uncomfortable but it's for your own safety. I tried not to draw it up very tightly to the bed. I think if you feel it pull against your wrist that will be enough to wake you."

She carefully tucked the covers up close around his face in warm cocoon and raised the side railing back into place. "Try to get some sleep now."

She quietly exited the room turning the overhead light off.

As Peter had predicted, Neal easily wriggled out of the restraint, retrieving the phone and quickly dialing.

"H-hel-lo Moz … I need your h-elp."

Authors Note: Again thank you for all the kind and helpful reviews. Please be sure to let me know what you think about the latest chapter. - SK Musings