White Collar: The Eye of Sita
Chapter Sixteen
"Got cha!"
Sara had jumped up out of the office chair as she paused the surveillance tape. When Neal hadn't returned after announcing that he was off to get arrested Sara had gone back to the real reason she was stuck in D.C. She had spent the past eight hours painstakingly going through hundreds of hours of digital tape of the Smithsonian. With nearly two hundred cameras set up in the vast museum a single day could produce close to two thousand hours of footage.
Finding Neal in the Hope Diamond room had been easy. Tracking down a recognizable photo of his mysterious friend had been far more difficult. Even the shot she had frozen on the screen wasn't great, with his face turned away from the camera it only gave the viewer a glimpse of his ear and part of his cheek line. It would be useless for identification if it didn't also show that the man had a fairly significant scar that looked like it started at the corner of his eye and tore back from there over his ear.
"Can't be too many people in the world walking around with a scar like that."
Sara printed off the frozen frame. Unlike most surveillance cameras the Smithsonian had a full color system. The man she was interested in clearly knew where each and ever camera was and had worked hard to work the angles. Tracing him back from when he bumped into Neal in the Hope Diamond room Sara learned that he had arrived at the museum over an hour before Neal and had waited for him.
The exchange between then had lasted only seconds. Neal had turned in the wrong direction to spot his stalker before he'd been lost in the crowd. Sara watched the meeting footage again. Even in slow motion it was difficult to see what had happened between them. The best clue she had was from Neal's reaction. Clearly startled Neal had left the Smithsonian in as close to a panic as Sara had ever seen him. The other man had mixed in with the crowd and then disappeared from the footage, or at least from the footage that Sara had been willing and able to go through.
"Whoever you are, you've got Neal spooked and that's not easy." Sara mused as she studied the picture she had printed out.
There was no doubt in Sara's mind that she was looking at the Hope Diamond thief. She couldn't draw any conclusions on if he was a friend or rival of Neal's since those two definitions always seemed to turn into just one big gray area with him. In the end she didn't care, she just wanted the diamond back. In the war between Law-men and Criminals Sara had always considered herself to be Switzerland. It didn't matter which side won, as long as she retrieved whatever stolen prize she was after.
Sara stretched out her sore back and glanced up at the clock that hung on the wall of the small Smithsonian security review room. It was close to six. Thinking of the cat and mouse game that Neal and the Art Crime department constantly played she wondered if the Law side had finally won. She got out her cell phone, but she didn't have any missed calls.
"If he'd ended up with 'one phone call' there's no reason he would have used it on me."
Carefully folding the picture of her prey Sara tucked it away in her purse. Purposefully avoiding the Smithsonian's head curator Sara signed out of the security offices and left. The curator was physically ill over having the Hope Diamond stolen on his watch and was even less happy about having a reproduction out on display. If he caught her he would question her for the next hour on if she had any leads, and it just wasn't something she wanted to deal with right now.
Walking into the hotel Sara was instantly approached by a well dressed woman. The tag on her lapel identified her as the hotel manager. The woman came up and discretely offered Sara her business card. Sara instinctively took the offered card, a ritual that she was very accustom to in her world.
"If Nick is any good please give him my number," the manager said in a low tone "let him know I have plenty of high class clients here."
Sara wasn't sure how to react to the front desk manager and she didn't have time to figure it out. The woman acted as if nothing had happened and just kept walking past. Feeling that Neal had something to do with the odd encounter Sara made her way up to her hotel room.
Opening the door she was not surprised to find Neal sleeping on the couch. With his jacket and tie on the coffee table and his shoes on the floor he'd obviously made a conscious decision to sleep there rather than having simply fallen asleep waiting for her. Sara wasn't sure how she felt about him just inviting himself into her hotel room without so much as a phone call.
Sara went over to the small safe that was set into the wall next to the kitchenette behind a painting that was on a hinge. The electronic combination was changed for each new guest, but Sara had also reset it herself. Typing in the new code she took the picture she'd printed out of her purse and placed it inside.
Sara had always assumed that Neal would be a light sleeper, but she'd quickly discovered that he slept soundly. He always claimed to know when she slipped out of his bed in the middle of the night, but she knew that wasn't true. Finding herself a little annoyed with him for letting her worry all day she walked over to the end of the couch and flicked the bottom of his foot in the center of the arch.
Jolted awake by the well placed strike Neal jerked his foot away from the unexpected assault. Looking disoriented he stared up at her in surprise. Quickly figuring his surroundings out Neal smiled at her and reached up to invite her to lay down with him. Sara remained standing and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Sara..."
"How did you get in here?"
"I told the front desk that the agency sent me at your request."
"Agency?" Sara repeated confused. "What agency?"
Remaining comfortably laying on the couch Neal's mischievous chuckle answered her question.
"Ohmygod, that's what the manager was talking about. Neal, don't you have any shame?" Sara demanded. "Do you have any idea how much trouble I'd be in if my work was told that I had ordered a...a..."
"'Escort' is the politically correct term."
"Get out." Sara huffed as she picked up his jacket and threw it at him.
"Okay, but there are no refunds."
Putting the jacket aside Neal sat up, but rather than getting to his feet he reached up and took a hold of Sara's wrists. When he tried to gently pull her down onto the couch she resisted at first. She was hoping to hear an apology from him for conning his way into her hotel room, but he didn't seem to even realize he'd done anything wrong.
When Neal persisted in his invitation Sara sighed and gave in. Neal guided her to lay down on his chest before wrapping his arms around her. Content to just hold her Neal settled down further into the plush couch and closed his eyes. Sara folded her arms over his chest so that she could prop her head up to look at him. She waited for him to explain himself, but she could feel his breathing slowing down as he started to drift off to sleep.
"Neal?"
"Yes?" Neal replied sleepily.
"You alright?"
"I've rarely been better." Neal purred.
"What happened last night?"
"Just a misunderstanding." Neal shrugged as best he could under Sara's weight.
"You're not going to tell me what they wanted, are you?" Sara sighed.
Sara's tone caught Neal's attention and he opened his eyes. Sara was surprised by how weary he looked. She noticed now that his bright blue eyes were rimmed in red. Even though his smile was unchanged from his usual confident self there was something subtly different in his expression. She wasn't sure what it was, but it made him look older, less boyish than usual.
"Walters had some forgeries that he was convinced were mine." Neal offered. "They weren't even very high quality, and he had no record of them being sold. So there's no real case."
"Walters dragged you and Peter down to D.C for that?" Sara asked doubtfully.
"Oh no." Neal smiled. "He drag Peter and I down here in a poorly planned attempt to embarrass Peter and steal his job."
"So...where's the 'misunderstanding'?"
"He severely overestimated my desire to get out of my anklet."
"Even I know that if you wanted to leave that little piece of plastic wouldn't keep you in New York."
"The fact that you know me better than Walters bodes well for our future together." Neal teased.
Having given her an explanation Neal closed his eyes again. He traced one hand up and down Sara's back aimlessly. Sara watched him for a moment. Although he looked perfectly peaceful she couldn't help feel that there was a lot more to his story. Eventually he noticed that he was being stared at and opened his eyes again. With a warm smile he held her tighter.
"Where would you go?" Sara asked suddenly "If you could go anywhere."
"What kind of resources do I have in this hypothetical relocation?" Neal asked without missing a beat. "Am I on the run? Or free to go as I please?"
"Free to go, and let's say...250 million."
"The estimated value of the Hope Diamond." Neal pointed out.
"Really?" Sara asked with mock innocents. "It's just a hypothetical, if Neal Caffrey could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?"
"Are you coming with me?"
"Depends on where you decide to go."
"Why do I get the feeling that this line of questioning is far more dangerous than a simple curiosity as to my favorite cities?" Neal asked suspiciously. "This feels like one of those 'female tests', like there is some correct answer and you're going to be mad at me if I don't get it right."
"Always looking for the angle, aren't you?" Sara sighed sadly. "Always looking for the trap."
Disheartened with the turn that the conversation had quickly taken Sara went to get up. Sensing that she was pulling away more than just physically Neal carded his hand into her hair and guided her into a deep kiss. At first Sara didn't mind, but then she realized that the strong physical connection was what the entire relationship was based on. To his credit the instant Sara stopped returning the affection Neal stopped as well.
Neal released her, but Sara didn't get up. Torn with indecision she laid her head down against his chest so that she could hear his heart. Neal's heart rate was slow and steady, it didn't show any signs of stress. She wanted to trust him, to believe that they had a chance at a future, but she couldn't convince herself that either one of those things was going to happen. She could feel Neal slowly growing more tense as the silence became increasingly awkward.
"Sara..."
"Maybe you should just go." Sara interrupted quietly.
"I'm sorry."
"You didn't do anything wrong, Neal. It's just...it's just that I have a job to get done here, and you're exactly the kind of distraction I don't need right now. We can talk when we're both back in New York."
"'Talk'." Neal repeated with a heavy sigh. "I know what that means."
"I'm not ending things, Neal."
"Then what do you want from me?" Neal asked. "I don't want to lose what we have...but I don't think I'm ready to say anything along the lines of 'I love you' yet."
"That's good, because I'm *really* not ready to hear anything along those lines from you yet."
"So what is going on? What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Sara lied.
"You think I stole the Hope Diamond."
Sara didn't react to the accusation right away. She already had a timeline of the window when the diamond had been stole and all of Neal's movements during that time. Sara was not about to admit to him that she had accessed his tracking information through less than legal means. However, even though he had been off anklet for a short time while undercover during the window, he'd been working on the far side of the city from the diamond. The chances were very slim that he had physically taken it himself.
"Well?" Neal demanded. "Do you think I have it?"
"No, but I think you know who does."
"I don't. I swear."
"Let's say I believe you..."
"Which you don't." Neal pointed out.
"Try seeing things from my perspective." Sara said defensively. "A leopard can't change his spots, Neal. Not even if he wants to."
"That doesn't mean the leopard stole the Hope Diamond." Neal replied in frustration. "I'm not lying to you. I don't know who has it, and I don't know how to make you believe me."
"Just answer me this: what was in your breast pocket that was so important?"
"Breast pocket?"
"When you were at the Smithsonian, the man that dropped the diamonds in your pocket, he came up on your right side, said something into your left ear so you'd turn that way and then he reached one hand into your side pocket and slipped the other skillfully into your breast pocket, pulled something out and melted into the crowd. He clearly knew you."
"He lifted something and dropped the diamonds at the same time? That's not easy."
"One fluid motion, it took seconds. You didn't even notice, did you? I was impressed, I doubt you could have done it better."
"Wha...what did he look like?" Neal asked anxiously.
"He played all the camera angles so I didn't get a good look. However he was about six three, tan skin, your age, blonde hai..."
Sara yelped in surprise as Neal suddenly sat bolt upright. Having still been laying on Neal's chest she had been dumped onto the floor. The panic she'd seen in his eyes on the Smithsonian tape had returned with a vengeance. Before Sara could try to get off the floor herself Neal reached down and lifted her up and set her down on the couch.
"Wha..."
"I have to go."
"Neal..."
Sara stopped, there wasn't any point. Neal had bolted without so much as putting his shoes on. The door slammed behind him and she could hear him actually running down the hall. Whatever was going on he certainly wasn't going to share it with her. Sitting back Sara stared up at the ceiling.
"I need to accept Neal's spots...or I need to move on."