Let Your Heart Hold Fast
Chapter 28
It had been almost three weeks since Neal had been taken and they were no closer to finding out where he was. Peter spent every day going over every piece of information they had collected and Elizabeth spent every day taking care of Satchmo. The poor dog had been severely wounded and his recovery was very slow.
Emotionally, both Elizabeth and Peter were just hanging on by a thread. They both found themselves spending time in Neal's room, wrapped up in his blanket or holding onto Charlie and Artie, or just staring at all of the drawings on his chalkboard wall.
The nights seemed to be the worse, because that's when they would worry about whether Neal had gotten enough to eat that day, or if someone was there for him if he had a nightmare. They knew that nighttime had always been the hardest part of the day for the boy and the thought of him facing it alone was almost too much.
They made it through every single day, though, even if it was filled with misery and sadness, despair and uncertainty. They made it through every single day by leaning on each other and praying for the moment they would be reunited with the boy they both loved so much. They made it through every single day because they had no other choice. For Neal, they had to cowboy up.
Neal was miserable in his new house. He missed Peter and Elizabeth immensely and was still really worried about Satchmo. He missed his friends at school and he missed his bedtime stories with Peter. He even missed his bath time, playing with his bath toys while he talked to either Elizabeth or Peter.
Living with his grandfather was boring and sometimes scary for Neal. The only person in the whole house that would talk to him, other than his grandfather, was Camille, but she was always busy working around the house. The other people in the house seemed to steer clear of him and would quickly shut down any attempt at communication.
Neal felt like everyone in the house was afraid of his grandfather and he had to admit that he was definitely a scary man. He didn't like it if anything was broken or if any messes were made anywhere. The first time Neal found this out was when he had left his coloring book and markers spread out on the floor one day when he went to bed. He had already been in bed for fifteen minutes when his bedroom door flew open and his grandfather angrily made him go back downstairs to clean up his mess.
Meal times were the worst times, in Neal's opinion. It was usually just him and his grandfather sitting alone at the huge table and there was barely ever any conversation between them. Edward Bennett expected Neal to only talk when he was spoken to, but Neal found that a very hard rule to obey. It was even harder for him to keep still, which was something that usually got him into trouble. His grandfather had very little patience for Neal, and Neal had very little self-control.
The best part of Neal's day was usually in the afternoon when Edward would have business to attend to. This meant that he would be left alone to entertain himself for several hours, something that he was more than happy to do. More often than not, he could be found curled up in the library, looking through the mass of books. Other times he would wander through the halls of the big house, wondering where all the doors led to. One afternoon, he found a room that was filled with toys and books and he spent several hours looking through everything. Whose room was this?
Three weeks into his stay with Edward Bennett, Neal had the worst day of his young life. He was sitting at the dinner table with his grandfather, refusing to eat anything. It took Edward almost twenty minutes to notice that his grandson wasn't eating.
"What's wrong with you, boy? Why aren't you eating?"
Neal looked up defiantly at his grandfather. "I'm not hungry," he replied, irritably. "I want to go home."
"You are home," Edward growled. "What is it going to take for me to convince you of that? This is your home, so you had better just get used to it."
"I don't want to get used to it," Neal cried, with a cross of both defiance and fear evident in his voice. "I hate it here and I want to go home. If you don't take me home, Peter's going to find me, and then you'll be in trouble."
"Oh, you think your Peter is going to find you? Well, let me tell you something, boy…..Your Peter is the one that wanted you to go away. He paid me to have someone break into his house and take you, so he could get rid of you. He was tired of you."
Neal's eyes filled with hot tears. "Th-that's not true," he cried. "Peter wouldn't do that. H-he loves me."
"Your own father didn't love you enough to stick around, boy, so why would Peter? The way I see it, everyone seems to leave you sooner or later. So, you'll stay here with me, where you belong."
"I DON'T WANNA STAY HERE," Neal screamed. "I WANNA GO HOME!"
Neal jumped down from the chair he was in and ran for the front door as fast as he could. Unfortunately, the door was too heavy for him to open and Edward Bennett was faster than he looked. Neal only stopped trying to get the door open when his grandfather yanked on his arm hard enough to make him cry out.
"I've had just about enough from you, boy. You WILL learn to behave and respect me, I promise."
Edward, still holding on to Neal's arm, started toward the stairs. Neal, who by this time was crying from the pain in his arm, dug his heels into the floor, trying to do whatever he could to stop his grandfather's progress up the stairs.
"Let me go! You're hurting me!" Neal cried, but the man didn't let go of his arm.
"If I'm hurting you, it's your own fault, boy! Now, stop squirming."
Neal was smart for his age, and realizing that he couldn't win against his grandfather, he stopped struggling. Seconds later, his grandfather opened his bedroom door and pushed him toward the bed.
"You're just like your father, boy….stubborn, impulsive, and insubordinate. You'll learn to control those behaviors, if you know what's good for you. Now, unless you want to feel my hand against your backside, you'll get in bed and go to sleep."
Neal kicked off his shoes and hurried up into the bed. He definitely didn't want a spanking! His arm was hurting enough at the moment. Once he was in bed, Edward stepped forward and looked down at him.
"I didn't bring you here to terrorize you, Neal. I brought you here because you are my grandson and you belong with me. I don't expect you to understand this, but I had no choice but to take you away from the Burkes the way I did. The court is not likely to grant me legal custody of you, for several different reasons. However, you are here now and this is where you will stay, so I suggest you do whatever it takes to adjust to your new life. Peter and Elizabeth Burke are no longer a part of it.
Edward turned and left the room, much to Neal's relief. Once he heard the man's footsteps fade away, Neal burst into tears and curled up under the blanket. He was so confused by what Edward had said earlier. Did Peter really pay Edward to take him away? Would he really do that? Neal didn't think he would, but he just wasn't sure. As he lay there thinking of everything else the man had said, he realized that there was some truth to it all. He had heard Peter tell Elizabeth once that he was impulsive at times. He remembered that he really didn't know what that meant, but Peter had explained it to him, telling him that it was often his impulsiveness that got him into trouble. Apparently, that was true. Now, if he only knew what insubordinate meant…..
It took Neal a long time to fall asleep that night, and when he did, his sleep was filled with terrible nightmares; nightmares where Peter yelled at him and told him that he was too impulsive and too insubordinate to love.
To Peter's amazement, it was Mozzie that gave them their first clue as to Neal's whereabouts. Peter had been in the office most of the day when he received a frantic call from his wife, telling him to come home right away. Once he arrived home, he found Elizabeth and Mozzie sitting at the table, both drinking tea.
"What's going on?" Peter said as soon as he walked through the door. "Why is he here?"
Elizabeth jumped up and ran to her husband. "Peter! Mozzie thinks he might know who kidnapped Neal!"
Peter looked at the shorter man in surprise. "What do you know, Mozzie?"
"Good day to you, too, Suit," Mozzie answered.
"Come on, Mozzie…..I need to know what you know."
Mozzie gave Peter a look, before beginning his story. "As I told Mrs. Suit, ever since I found out that Neal was taken, I've been keeping my eyes and ears open. You'd be amazed what you can find out on the streets. Last night, I was at a restaurant with a few associates and one of those associates had a little too much to drink. He started bragging about a job that he and another associate recently finished that was very lucrative. At first, I thought that it was just an average job, but then he mentioned who his associate was and that it involved getting one over on an FBI agent."
Mozzie stopped to take a drink of tea, but he quickly continued. "Of course, my curiosity was piqued a little, so I plied him with more drinks until his tongue was even looser. It seems that he and his partner were hired to secure and deliver a very special parcel to a very powerful man. I, of course, thought that he was talking about a rare gem or a priceless painting, at first, but then he mentioned that this special parcel was feisty and that his associate had been kicked by this feisty parcel in the process of securing it."
Peter couldn't keep his smile from spreading across his face. "Mozzie, you're a genius. Do you have the names of these associates? Did you get any more information from him?"
"Yes and no, Suit. It seems that I might have plied him with a little too much drink, because he passed out a few minutes later. I can tell you their names, but I don't know if that will help you much. They both are pretty good at staying undiscovered. It's only because he knew me that he gave up this information. And it's only because it's to help Neal that I'm telling you. "
"I understand, Mozzie," Peter said. "And I appreciate you doing whatever you can to help us find Neal. Now, how about you tell me everything you know about these two men."
The next few days, the Bennett house was filled with people. Camille told Neal that they were business associates of his grandfather's and that he was to stay away from them. Neal watched the coming and going of some of them from the top of the staircase, and he had to admit that they all looked a little scary.
There were times that he would hear laughter coming from his grandfather's study, but other times he would hear loud arguing. No matter what he heard, he had no desire to go in there.
The best part of his grandfather's frequent visitors was that he didn't have to take his meals with the man. Instead, he would sit in the kitchen and eat with Camille. He finally met the cook that made all the delicious food he had been eating and it wasn't too long before they had become good friends. Pierre had a strong accent that Neal learned was French. He sometimes found it hard to understand his new friend, but they always found ways to communicate.
One afternoon, as they were eating their lunch, Neal asked Camille a question that had been bugging him for some time. "Camille, whose room is that upstairs with all the toys and books?"
Camille choked on her bite of sandwich and quickly took a drink of water. "How did you find that room, Neal? If your grandfather finds out you've been sneaking around and snooping, he'll be really upset."
"I wasn't snooping, Camille. I was just bored. There's nothing to do around here, you know."
"Of course, there is, Neal. You can draw and color. You can read your books. There are puzzles in the closet that you haven't even touched."
"I don't like puzzles, Camille. And I'm tired of drawing and coloring. I miss my friends at school. I miss lunch and recess."
"I'm sure you do, darlin', but there's nothing to be done about it. You're here now and here is where you'll stay. Perhaps I can talk to your grandfather about letting you play outside every so often. How does that sound?"
Neal thought it sounded better than being stuck inside all day, so he gave her a smile. "Thanks, Camille."
After a few more minutes, Neal asked again about the room he had found upstairs. "Why can't I play with the toys that are in there?"
Camille put down her sandwich with a loud sigh. "You need to stay out of that room, Neal, okay? I mean it. If Mr. Bennett knows you've been in there, well…..he'll be extremely angry. And stop asking about it, just forget that it exists, do you hear me?"
Neal nodded his head and went back to eating his sandwich. Now, more than ever, he wanted to know whose room that was.
The next week, Peter, Diana and Jones spent every waking minute running down information on the two names Mozzie had given them. They had passed on the names to Agent Dawson, too, but Peter knew that he couldn't focus on anything else until Neal had been found. Fortunately, his boss understood this and allowed Peter and his team to either reassign or put aside their other cases.
Mozzie had informed them that the two men were named Matthew Keller and Douglas Kane. They had very little information on either one of them, so they were basically starting from scratch. Matthew Keller was a known suspect in several museum heists that had never been solved, due to lack of evidence. He had never actually been arrested on any charges, mostly due to the fact that he had a tendency to be hard to track down. Douglas Kane was more of a small time thief and conman with a rap sheet that consisted of an arrest for trying to sell a forged painting and another arrest for selling knock-off Rolex watches. Neither arrest caused him to serve any time and, as far as they could tell there was no address or contact information listed for the man.
Hunting these two men down would be difficult, it seemed, but luckily for them, Mozzie still had his eyes and ears open out on the streets, making it a little easier, at least.
Peter worked late most nights and Elizabeth continued to spend her time taking care of Satchmo. The dog was slowly recovering and they were finally able to take short walks down to the park. Elizabeth would sit on the bench, with Satchmo in the grass next to her, and they would both watch the children playing on the playground. Elizabeth could tell that the poor dog missed his playmate.
Three days before Christmas, Elizabeth finally decided to put up a Christmas tree. Usually, it was a Burke family tradition to go to the Christmas tree farm and pick out a tree, and Elizabeth had been looking forward to introducing Neal to that tradition. Now, her heart wasn't in it, but she wanted to have a tree in case Neal came home before Christmas.
By the time Peter came home that night, she had the tree decorated, the stockings hanging on the mantle and Christmas cookies cooling on the kitchen counter. She had also wrapped all the presents she had already bought for Neal and Peter was surprised to see the large pile under the tree.
"Hey, hon….the tree looks great. Where did you get it?"
Elizabeth just looked at Peter with a lost look. "There were a few left in front of the grocery store. I thought we should put it up, just in case."
Peter didn't have to ask what the "just in case" was for. There had been so many 'just in case' scenarios in the last three weeks. Elizabeth had made Neal's favorite cookies almost every night since he'd been gone, just in case. She laid out his favorite pair of pajamas every night, just in case. She stocked the refrigerator with his favorite juice, just in case. She sharpened all of his colored pencils and cleaned all of his paintbrushes, just in case.
The "just in cases" were slowly driving Peter mad.
Neal had completely forgotten that it was almost Christmas, until he heard Camille singing Christmas carols. When he remembered, he immediately felt sad, remembering how Elizabeth had promised that they would get the biggest Christmas tree they could find.
His grandfather's house wasn't decorated at all for Christmas, so Neal took it upon himself to start drawing Christmas pictures. Pierre made sure to put some of his pictures up on the huge refrigerator in the kitchen and Camille framed several of them to put in his room.
Three days before Christmas, Neal was sitting in the kitchen with Camille, eating lunch.
"Camille, do you think Santa will be able to find me here? What if he thinks I'm still at home with Peter and Elizabeth?"
Camille's heart broke at the look of uncertainty and sadness on Neal's face. She knew that Edward Bennett didn't take the time to celebrate the holiday, but she didn't think it was fair that Neal should miss out on it, too. Putting on as big of a smile as she could muster, she answered the small boy.
"Santa's a smart fellow, darlin'. I don't think he'll have any problem finding you here. Have you been a good boy this year?"
Neal's eyes lit up, but then darkened again. "I've tried to be good, Camille, but sometimes I get disbedient and impulsive. It's really hard to be good all the time, you know."
Camille laughed. "Don't I know it, darlin'."
Neal took a few more bites of his lunch, staring thoughtfully out the window for several long minutes. Camille noticed the faraway look in his eyes and wondered what he was thinking about. "Neal, I'm going into town later on today. Do you want me to give Santa a message for you?"
Neal's eyes lit up again. "Yes, please!" he cried. "Can you tell Santa that all I want for Christmas is to go home?"
Author's note: Well, I thought I was going to answer a few more questions in this chapter, but instead I think I just raised a few more. Whose room did Neal find? What is Camille's story? And what exactly is Edward up to? Any ideas?
I would love to hear your thoughts on the chapter. What parts did you like or not like? Is everyone staying in character? I'm just curious what you all are thinking, lol. Anyway, thanks so much for reading.