Chapter 13: Lynx Mountain
Ellington mansion. February 2, 2005. Wednesday evening.
Neal was still smiling from Peter's dance lesson when he left the Bureau that evening. He got more than a few looks on the subway platform when he started snapping his fingers and swaying to the music going on in his head.
When he arrived home, he spotted June getting out of a taxi. She was loaded down with shopping bags and he sprinted forward to help her.
"You arrived just in time," June said gratefully. "I hadn't intended to buy so much." They walked up the front steps to the house together and she opened the door.
That her bags were heavy didn't come as a surprise. They were from the Strand Bookstore on the Lower East Side, one of New York's best sources for used and rare books. "You bought enough books to last for months," he commented, helping her with her coat.
"You may be amused at the subject matter. Take a look at what I purchased."
Neal carried the bags to the bookcase in the living room and began pulling out the hardbound volumes. "At the Mountains of Madness, The Dunwich Horror and Others, Tales of the Cthulhu Mythos." He turned to look at her. "Did you buy all of Lovecraft's works?"
"All I could find. As Mozzie would say, 'Know thine enemy.' I've never read Lovecraft and after that incident on Sunday, I decided it was high time." She approached him. "Next time Azathoth tries to abuse our friendship, I'll be prepared for any Cthulhu madness he may pull. I also bought some works by August Derleth. He expanded Lovecraft's original vision. Scrounging copies of his works was a particular challenge."
June's thoroughness was impressive and Neal looked forward to hearing her comments after she'd read the works, but at the moment he had a resort to prepare for. As Neal jogged upstairs to pack, he was surprised to hear the TV on. The door was already ajar. He opened it to find Mozzie staring with rapt attention at the screen. Without taking his eyes off the TV, he motioned Neal to sit beside him on the couch. Neal slung off his coat and sat down as directed.
"What's so interesting?" Neal asked.
"Shhh. Watch."
Neal concentrated on the object of Mozzie's fascination. It was a BBC broadcast of a press conference in Buenos Aires. Photos of an old stone wall covered in vegetation were displayed as the reporter talked about an amazing discovery. An old Nazi hideout had been identified in the jungles of northern Argentina. It was believed to have been built as a refuge for Nazi generals. Several Nazi coins had been found at the site by a visiting American anthropologist who was conducting fieldwork at a nearby village.
"That's Mitch, Tricia's husband!" Neal exclaimed when they flashed his photo on the screen.
Mozzie continued to stare at the screen. "I'd heard an earlier news bulletin that this would be on. I knew you'd want to see it too. I've long believed that there's an underground network of Nazis living in Argentina—building secret laboratories and conducting experiments. Now the truth is out."
Neal went to his closet to retrieve his suitcase. He placed a stack of clothes on the bed to fold while Mozzie educated him about how Hitler clones could be produced in hidden jungle laboratories. "This could be why Adler's in Argentina," Neal teased. "We'd assumed he'd chosen the location because of its inaccessibility, but he could have a darker purpose."
Mozzie nodded thoughtfully, appearing to take the notion seriously. "I hadn't considered that possibility. Adler could have discovered plans hidden in the ruins. With his funds, he could easily finance a continuation of Nazi research." He glanced over at the stack on the bed. "I see you found the corduroy shirt."
Neal picked the shirt up, fingering along the front placket. "Excellent work, thanks. I like the midnight-blue color and it's a good weight." He paused to let his mind roam over the landscape of Hitler conspiracy theories. "Jones had thought that Adler was trying to find a sunken U-boat filled with Nazi-looted treasure. But instead Adler may think it contains the master plan for an invasion of Hitler clones. There could even be clones on board, waiting to be awakened."
"All excellent theories and worthy of more investigation. Do you have Mitch's cell number? I should contact him."
"No, I don't. I doubt you could contact him in any case. Henry told me he'd be out of range in Ecuador and Mitch probably has the same problem."
"Have you met him? What's he like?"
"I met him only once, at the birthday lunch Henry arranged for me last March." Neal thought back. "He makes an interesting contrast with Tricia. She always projects poise and competence."
"Ah yes, the role model of what a lady suit should be." Mozzie sat back and stroked his chin. "Pant Suit."
"Yes, she does wear pantsuits a lot. I can't remember ever seeing her in a dress."
"No, that's her name. Pant Suit."
"I'll tell her. I'm sure she'll take it as a compliment. Mitch, in comparison, seems rather disorganized and a little absent-minded."
"Did his mind seem open to nonconformist theories like Hitler clones?"
#
The next day during the four-hour drive to Lynx Mountain, the Nazi hideout discovery continued to be a hot topic of conversation. Travis was driving the van, Jones was in the passenger seat in the front. Sitting in the cargo area with Neal were Diana and Peter.
Neal enjoyed ribbing Jones over the hideout. "You were the one who tried to make a connection between Adler and the Nazis. Do you think Adler's hiding nearby?" Jones had arrived at his theory of a sunken U-boat filled with Nazi-looted assets when he discovered that Adler was suspected of owning a marine salvage company through a shell corporation and that Adler's father had worked on U-boats during World War II. The idea had seemed so far-fetched that Neal had been tempted to categorize Jones as yet one more person who had watched too many Nazi movies or in Jones's case, played too many World War II video games.
"Don't mock me, Caffrey," Jones retorted. "When Adler's castle in the jungle is discovered, then you'll thank me."
"What's this fascination about Nazis?" Diana asked, staring at the both of them as if they'd lost their minds. She'd arrived at White Collar in the summer and hadn't heard the speculation about Adler. "Jones, are you simply acting on your desire to command a U-boat?"
Peter's account of what had gone on with Adler took up much of the drive to Lynx Mountain. Neal stopped him several times to add the proper embellishment, with Travis and Jones also claiming their share.
After a break at a fast food stop for lunch, the topic switched to dancing. Neal spent several minutes trying to instill Peter with more confidence. Now that they were getting close to the resort, Peter's cold feet were threatening to turn the van into an iceberg. "Honestly, you weren't that bad. El was clearly enraptured with the new you."
Diana did her best to help. "You'll be great, boss. You're a natural. Besides, you have that awkward sincerity that women—most women, anyway—find irresistible. Lily obviously likes the strong, silent type since she hit on Jones." Diana glanced over at Neal and bit her lip to keep from laughing.
"What—" Peter turned his head just in time to see Neal using hand gestures to urge Diana on. "Hey, stop that. You're not helping my self-confidence at all. Let's change the subject before I jump ship. What did you find out about the business meeting Rinaldi scheduled?"
"He's holding a series of discussions with golf course developers," Jones said, swiveling in his chair. "They check out—nothing suspicious in their backgrounds—but that's not surprising. Rinaldi's pattern in the past has been to invest in legitimate concerns. The frauds were usually committed with mortgage applications."
"You're confident we'll be able to copy the files without him being aware of it?" Peter asked.
"When he was in Las Vegas last week he used a Dell laptop," Travis said. "I loaded a USB drive with a program that will override any encryption he may be using. I've already trained Neal in its use."
They'd been driving on steep mountain roads for over a half-hour when Jones announced they'd arrive at the resort in fifteen minutes.
Neal turned to look out the front window. The view was breathtaking. Under an azure blue sky, the snow sparkled a pristine white that sunglasses did little to dim. Evergreens draped in snow soared fifty or more feet into the sky. Brightly-clothed skiers zigzagged down the trails. There had been near-record amounts of snowfall this year. Ski conditions were reported to be optimal. Neal had never skied. He'd never had the desire to. But watching the grace of the skiers sliding down the mountain, he wished for a moment he could participate.
They pulled into the Lynx Mountain Resort in the early afternoon. The Rinaldis were scheduled to arrive later in the day. They'd fly into Burlington where they'd pick up a van.
The resort seemed far larger than its appearance in the photos. The main building was an immense chalet consisting of three wings and over three hundred rooms. Grouped around it were at least eight other buildings of varying sizes. It made Neal feel like he was back in Switzerland.
Travis first drove to the covered portico at the main entrance to drop Diana off. "I'll think about the rest of you in your staff accommodations while I'm relaxing in front of the fireplace in my deluxe suite, gazing out at the mountains," she said.
"Have a cognac for me," Neal said longingly. He was normally the one staying in deluxe accommodations. Wasn't he there as renowned rock star Neal Legend? This was the last time he was going to allow Diana to handle his room reservation.
After Diana got out, Travis drove the van around to the service entrance at the back of the lodge. Neal jumped out as soon as they came to a halt. After the warmth of the van, the mountain air stung his face and he zipped up his jacket. But it was worth it to catch the view of the mountain looming behind the lodge. His breath came out in white clouds casting a mist over his view. He itched for his paints. The mountain with low-lying clouds in front, perhaps the sun behind it. He'd have to come back in the late afternoon when the snow could have a pink cast from the reflected sunlight.
"Care to give us a hand, Caffrey?" Jones called out. "You can daydream later."
After one last look, Neal returned to the van and helped the others unload their gear. When they checked in at the staff entrance, they discovered the first glitch of the op. They were supposed to have separate rooms, but because of the extra staff needed for the winter festival, accommodations were in short supply. They'd have to double up on rooms. Travis opted to bunk with Jones, and Peter would be Neal's roommate.
"This will be fun," Neal said with a grin. "I'll be able to pester you with questions about your adventures with Lily all night long."
Peter shook his head vehemently. "Think again. You're the one who'll be entertaining me."
The four of them walked down a narrow hallway to their rooms. When Neal opened the door to their quarters, he surveyed the Spartan accommodations gloomily. They were in the basement, so no windows. He hadn't expected a minibar, but not even a coffeemaker? He supposed he should feel fortunate they did have a bathroom, but the beds looked ridiculously small. Were they twins? The ultimate indignity was a card on the dresser explaining there was no housekeeping service.
Peter looked over at him and chuckled. "Not up to your usual standard?"
"It's a far cry from the last time we were roommates. Remember? I'd handled the accommodations then. Panoramic views of Saint Louis and the Gateway Arch from the windows. Marble bathroom with soaking tub—you could use one of those after a day on the slopes—king-sized beds, big screen TV, minibar. Where's our minibar, Peter?"
Peter snorted. "Ah yes, Saint Louis. Let's see—you were a criminal, on the run and hacking up a lung from some plague you'd probably caught from jumping across roofs in winter. I was on the verge of arresting you. You sure you want to revisit the good old days?"
"But you didn't arrest me. Didn't even come close. You were so dazzled by my brilliance, you recruited me on the spot."
"Don't you still have that t-shirt I lent you? I could bring charges you know." Peter's laughter was canceling out the dramatic effect of his threat.
"Didn't I return it? You were probably so excited at the thought of recruiting me, it slipped your mind." Neal began hanging up his shirts. "So, roomie, what are your plans?"
"I'm going over to the ski facility, get the lay of the land. How about you?"
"As soon as I finish unpacking, I'll head for the bar to prepare for my debut performance as a lounge lizard."
The Wolverine Piano Bar was located off the lobby of the hotel. Midafternoon, there were only a few people in the lobby and none in the piano bar. Neal stopped to check out the large poster of himself on the way in. He hadn't performed on the East Coast as Neal Legend since last summer and wondered if many people at the resort would have heard of him.
The bar was paneled in warm oak the color of brandy. Art deco upholstered club chairs were grouped around cocktail tables. The room was large but had an intimate feel with soft lighting provided by frosted glass torch sconces. Neal brushed his hand along the keys. The piano was a good one, a Kawai finished in polished mahogany. He sat down and riffed a few arpeggios. The piano had a warm, mellow tone well-suited for his voice. As Neal began to sing, he imagined a martini by his side, the room filled with patrons listening to him croon.
#
Shortly before eight o'clock, Peter strolled into the bar. He looked for Neal but didn't see him in the room. He wasn't due to perform for a few minutes and probably wanted to make a dramatic appearance. Peter sat down at the table reserved for him and ordered a beer. Most of the seats were already full, and the few empty tables had reserved cards.
Neal had alerted him that the Rinaldis had reserved a table close to the front. He'd picked a nearby table for Peter. Diana was sitting on the other side of the room. She was typing on a small laptop. Her cover was that of a mystery author, but she intended to work on her fanfiction. She was wearing a tight-fitting cocktail dress in the hopes of catching Max Rinaldi's eye. Neal had advised Peter at length about what he should wear for the evening. Peter had thought El was an exacting critic. He hadn't realized Neal was even worse.
Still, he'd have to give Neal points. He'd buttered Peter up with so many compliments on how good he looked that Peter was starting to feel better about the operation. He'd rehearsed his lines. He was now Peter Lamoureaux, suave ladies' man. He could do this.
At eight o'clock, Neal entered the room. As he headed for the piano, he smiled at the scattered applause. He started out with a mellow version of Phil Collins's "In the Air Tonight," and then moved into "Can You Feel the Love Tonight." As Peter listened, he was struck by how good he sounded. He also started to relax. Clearly, Lily would be putty in Neal's capable hands.
The Rinaldis took their places at the table when Neal was singing. Both of the women were wearing cocktail dresses. Lily's was not quite as short as her daughter's but had a much more plunging neckline. Max Rinaldi was wearing an open-collar silk shirt and jacket. Lily's eyes flitted around the lounge, pausing at Peter, who tried his best to look nonchalant.
Neal had advised him to play it cool during this first meeting and pretend not to notice her. Peter wished he'd thought of an excuse like Diana's so he could be absorbed in something else. He should have brought a ski magazine along.
Max ordered what appeared to be Scotch for himself and Lily and a club soda for his daughter. Mandy was a leggy-looking eighteen-year-old, with long black hair. Neal mentioned she was a dancer and she looked it, at least by the length of her legs, but she was a little too stacked to be a ballerina.
Throughout the evening Neal interspersed Frank Sinatra hits with more contemporary songs. And although he was singing to the entire room, a teen sitting at a front table only had eyes for him. When Neal launched into an emotionally- charged rendition of "Heaven," Mandy looked like she'd swoon into her club soda.
Shortly afterward Rinaldi and his daughter went up to talk to him. Rinaldi was smiling. He appeared to be making a joke. Mandy was looking starry-eyed at Neal and was blushing at whatever her dad was saying.
As Peter watched them, he became aware of eyes boring into him. He slanted a glance over at Lily, who was staring at him. He'd heard women complain of being undressed by a guy's overly attentive stare. Now he knew what it felt like. Peter suppressed a sigh of relief when Max and Mandy rejoined Lily at the table.
Neal spoke into the microphone, explaining how his next song was for a very special someone who'd just turned eighteen. He started singing "Tiny Dancer," and kept his eyes on Mandy for much of the song. Lily and Rinaldi exchanged a few murmurs while looking at Mandy. Peter noticed that Rinaldi started singing along with Neal. Midway through the song, Neal called Rinaldi on stage to sing the refrain with him. Peter made a vow to always sit in the back during future performances. He remembered all too well being called on stage during the Thanksgiving concert. And although he'd had enough beers that he actually enjoyed it—not that he'd ever admit it to Neal—that had been a one-shot occurrence.
Peter glanced at Diana. She was enjoying the performance too, her expression surprisingly soft when she watched Rinaldi with his daughter. It was a shame the guy was such a crook. This wouldn't end well for Mandy.
#
The Rinaldis left the bar at 9:30 and Peter returned to his room shortly afterward. Lily's ski lesson was scheduled to begin at nine the next morning. He planned to arrive well in advance to familiarize himself with the beginner trails and get in a little early morning skiing. Even though he'd studied the layout all week, that couldn't compare to actually skiing the trails.
At 11:00, Neal still hadn't shown up and Peter headed for bed. Sure enough, he'd no sooner fallen asleep than Neal wandered in. He gathered up his sleepwear and headed for the bathroom to change, but Peter was a light sleeper.
"Excellent performance tonight, blue eyes."
Neal chuckled. "Thanks. Sorry, I woke you up."
"I'd just gone to bed. Go ahead and turn on the lights."
"I saw Lily give you the once over. You should have an easy time of it tomorrow."
Peter winced. "I wish she'd been more interested in you."
"I don't think I'm her type. Mandy, on the other hand ... After you left, she returned to the bar. I was chatting with a couple of the customers who'd heard me perform last summer, and she left before I had a chance to talk with her. I hope to make a connection tomorrow."
While Neal brushed his teeth, Peter reviewed his options. Perhaps Lily would break her leg and solve the crisis. Could he give her a tiny nudge? Peter thought about calling El, but she was probably asleep.
Neal emerged from the bathroom and flopped on his bed. "Can't sleep? You're stewing about tomorrow, aren't you?"
"What the hell am I going to talk to her about?"
Neal crossed his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling for a moment. "Gigi."
"The movie?"
"Maybe eventually, but I was thinking of her dog. Lily has a Yorkshire terrier named Gigi that she dotes on." Neal sat up, his voice growing more enthusiastic. "You could talk about Satchmo, ask her if she owns a dog. Women love to talk about their pets. You like talking about Satchmo. You'll bond over your pups."
Peter sat up too, but he didn't share Neal's enthusiasm. "That's crazy."
"Why do you think so many single guys have dogs? Not because they're dog lovers, although they may be, but because dogs are chick magnets. You walk down the street with your pooch, and women can't resist you. Confess, hasn't it happened to you and Satchmo?"
Come to think about it, women did seem remarkably friendly around Satchmo. "I could pick up Satchmo at the kennel and take him with me?"
"All in good time. Lead up to it. Make her want to come back for more."
"Neal!"
"You know what I mean. You can ask her why she named her dog Gigi. She'll probably say Gigi was her favorite movie. Why else would she name the dog Gigi? Did you ever watch Gigi with El?"
If he admitted it, would Neal tease him for the rest of his life?
"Peter?"
"I don't know if El ever saw it, but ..."
"You gotta tell me," Neal insisted. "How can I help you if I don't possess all the facts?"
"My mom loved the movie. She got a VHS tape of it as soon as it was available and then bought the DVD version. I can't remember how many viewings I've sat through."
"Next time I see Betty, I must thank her for giving you such an excellent education. This is perfect."
"Why is that?"
"You can discuss Gigi with Lily. What a wonderful ending it has. How romantic it is. The only bad part was that Gigi sang to a cat rather than a dog. You're French Canadian. You could even sing a little. Just like Louis Jourdan, but replace Gigi with Lily." Neal started singing the title song.
"There will be no singing tomorrow," Peter said firmly.
"You sure? You could still call her Lily with a French accent. She'd go nuts. I bet she digs a French accent. Say after me: Li-LEE."
"Lily."
"Try it again. Put the accent on the second syllable. Lily, Lily ma chérie—"
"Chérie is the name of El's character in Bus Stop," Peter said, hoping to divert his roomie onto another topic. "That's the play she's rehearsing at her Community Theater."
"Make that work for you. Channel El when you think of Lily. El's playing a part. So can you."
The Next Morning, on the Slopes.
"Satchmo loves to play in the snow." After a half-hour lesson, Peter had called a time out to let Lily rest. He was putting Neal's tips to good use and was surprised at how well they were working. They'd talked about their dogs for at least ten minutes. Thank you, Neal.
Lily's face lit up. "So does Gigi! Have you ever taken Satchmo on the slopes?"
"Sometimes when I go cross-country skiing. Many of the snowshoe and cross-country ski trails are dog-friendly. We don't have one yet at Lynx Mountain but plan to." As Peter talked about his skiing adventures with Satchmo, Lily seemed to enjoy his tales. She related several stories about Gigi and how she regretted she hadn't brought Gigi along. After that promising start, Peter began talking about the movie. Neal was right. Lily had watched it with her mom, and those shared experiences led to tales of their moms. By the time Peter resumed the lesson, he was as comfortable with Lily as if she were a family friend.
#
It was nearly midmorning by the time Neal pulled himself together to stroll over for breakfast at the Eagle's Nest Restaurant in the lodge. He felt like he was on vacation, and a well-deserved one at that. He'd put in a full day's work yesterday plus overtime at the piano bar, not to mention coaching Peter. He'd call this comp time.
Peter had already left the room by the time Neal got up. He vaguely recalled waking up when he heard the sound of Peter's electric razor, but his brain must have processed all associated sounds as non-hostile and let him sleep. Peter should be on the slopes with Lily now. Had he taken his advice and talked about Satchmo?
The restaurant only had a few other sluggards. Neal sat down at a table beside a window where he could watch the skiers. A waitress brought him coffee and orange juice without being asked. He placed an order for brioche French toast with maple syrup and berries. While he waited for his order to arrive, he watched the skiers. Since this was a festival weekend, there were plenty of families on the slopes. He wondered if he'd be able to spot Peter and Lily. Peter had a red ski jacket, but that appeared to be the color of choice. It wouldn't be easy to identify him.
"Excuse me." Turning his head, Neal saw Mandy approaching him. Her cheeks were flushed. She looked shy and hesitant. "I just wanted to thank you again for last night. I was so excited when I heard Neal Legend was going to perform. I've been following you and your group for years." Mandy's eyes shone with infatuation. Neal had seen that look before on some of the fans at Urban Legend concerts. Mandy was crushing on him.
"Would you like to join me for breakfast?" he asked with a friendly smile. He offered to order her something and she picked a bowl of yogurt with fruit.
Over the next hour, Neal found out much more about Mandy than he'd expected. With the help of only a few questions, she divulged practically the entire history of her family—her school life, how she wanted to work in the fashion industry, what she thought about her parents. Her dad was seldom around and a pushover and her mom was domineering. Mandy longed for the freedom she expected to have in college. She craved details about Neal's adventures on the road and Neal spun a few stories for her.
"This isn't your usual style of music," she commented.
Neal was already prepared for that question. "I was booked to perform at the Rio Las Vegas as part of a Rat Pack Review. I wanted to try out the songs in a more casual setting and combine it with some downtime. This made the perfect gig. What did you think?"
"I loved your performance! Your songs were so romantic. You made me feel like you were singing just to me." Mandy propped an elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand. "I could gaze into your eyes forever. I get lost in their blueness." She sighed and leaned over further. "I must be in heaven."
A change of topic was clearly needed to tamp down the flames before a major conflagration erupted. Neal gave her a quick smile and asked, "Do you ski?"
She shook her head. "Mom's learning. She's at a lesson right now. She's pushing me to take lessons too, but I'd rather do something, anything else."
Neal grinned knowingly. "Your form of rebellion?"
She giggled. "I guess. I skate. There's a beautiful rink here."
"I've never ice skated. I did a little roller skating as a kid."
"I could teach you," she said excitedly.
"You wouldn't mind? I'm sure I'd be the world's worst klutz."
"I'd love to teach you. Would you like to go now?" Mandy was already standing up.
"Won't your dad miss you?"
"He's busy in meetings all day. We're not getting together till the evening."
And so a half-hour later Neal and Mandy were skating together on the ice. He'd told the truth. He'd never skated before. Judging by the grace of her pirouettes and twirls as she skated circles around him, Mandy must have skated for years. The ice on the rink had a glassy smoothness. Music was being piped in and there were several other skaters—adults, kids, and parents teaching their kids. Neal caught on quickly. His old roller skating skill helped, and balance had never been a problem, but he faked the awkwardness of a novice. Mandy on ice was a different woman. Shedding her initial shyness, she was much more relaxed and self-confident.
As Neal settled into his role of novice skater, he enjoyed teasing her, exaggerating his awkwardness, and hamming it up on the ice. The music being played included some current popular songs: "Me Against the Music," "Give it Up," and "Amazing." Neal and Mandy added some dance moves as they skated.
If only Mandy would ease up on the makeup, she'd be quite attractive. As it was, her false eyelashes reminded Neal of spiders. He found himself staring at them, half-expecting them to spin a web around him and sting him with poison.
Elton John's "Are You Ready for Love" was playing, a song Neal had sung the night before. He started singing along with Elton. Mandy suggested they skate arm-in-arm. Before long, she put her head on his shoulder and started nibbling his neck. The next thing he knew, the spiders attacked. She skated in front of him and pulled him to her. Wrapping her arms around him, she proceeded to suck his lips off.
Time for a change in strategy, and fast.
Notes: I appropriated the discovery of a Nazi hideout in northern Argentina which was announced in March 2015 for this story. There are photos of the ruins on The Dreamer board on our Caffrey Conversation Pinterest page. The songs Neal performed, including Matt Bomer singing "Heaven" from the Magic Mike XXL soundtrack, are also on the Pinterest board.
Peter and Neal were roommates for the first time in Caffrey Conversation. Diana got the shortened version of Neal's history with Adler. The details are in Caffrey Flashback.