Reynolds watched his suspect through the glass partition. The young man sat relaxed in the hard chair a hint of a smile playing on his lips... Reynolds had expected a fight...at least an argument or protest when the police arrested him... but he hadn't said a word. Just dropped quietly to his knees and entwined his fingers behind his head. He didn't even ask why he was being arrested, yet he didn't seem intimidated at all... that smug little hint of a smile never faltered, he even made conversation with a young female officer on the ride in, making the girl smile brightly.
A brief glimpse into Caffrey's apartment hadn't yielded anything related to the murders but that wasn't surprising... Reynolds had seen 3 paintings sitting on the floor, as if the man hadn't bothered to hang them...and a set of diagrams, someone said they were the security plans for the palace at Versailles...
"Reynolds!" he looked up ... Burke was furious. Well he couldn't help that he stepped on the man's toes... besides he withheld information
"I'm just doing my job...those boys deserve justice."
Burke pulled up suddenly "and you really think Neal did it?"
"Yes I do... look at him in there... cool as ice. Men like that are far more dangerous than the nervous types...And he knows what happened to those kids...I sure of that."
"Neal is not dangerous..." Burke glared then relented slightly. "But I agree he knows something about it." he glanced through the 2 way glass his expression concerned.
"You know I find it a little disturbing that you are so comfortable being on a first name basis with a sociopath." Reynolds muttered "and that you came all this way to protect him."
"I came to find out what he knows."
"Is that why you told me he was dead?"
Burke rubbed his forehead thoughtfully before his eyes strayed anxiously over to the glass "I didn't know for sure that he wasn't until I saw him."
Reynolds sighed..."I'm sorry if you saw him as something else... but I am almost certain he was involved in this murder…" He really did feel sorry for this man, who had so obviously been taken in by Caffrey
"And you are going to go in there and accuse him of murder?" a hint of a smile twitched at the corner of Burkes mouth, before his eyes went back to the window.
"I'm going to interrogate my suspect, yes."
"You won't get anything out of him that way."
"What do you propose I do? Buy him dinner…"
"Couldn't hurt."
"Just stay out of the way."
)()()()()()()()(
Peter stared through the glass at his friend. He let Reynolds go in alone because he really wasn't sure what he wanted to say to Neal. The kid let them all think he was dead… let all of his friends mourn for him for a year… Peter wanted to yell at him and demand the reasons why, he wanted to hug him and not let go, the idea of punching him had crossed his mind as well. All of that would have to wait though. Right now the young man was being accused of some pretty ugly things.
Neal looked tired, he thought, tired enough it was showing though his façade. Peter watched the younger man flex his cuffed hands over and over…was it his imagination or did the fingers tremble just a bit. Neal clenched his fists again hiding the tremor quickly. "Just like after Kate," Peter thought, "something has him really rattled"
"Do you know Donny Mitchel?"
"No" the polite smile never slipped but Peter saw Neal's eyes flicker
"Do you know Rico Mendez?"
"No' that flicker again "should I?"
Reynolds lay the picture of Neal and the 2 boys on the table between them. Neal barely glanced at it before "you asked if I KNOW them…" he leaned back in the chair casually "I knew them once, but I haven't seen them in years."
"We found them Caffrey. We know how they died"
"They're dead? That's too bad…" Another quick glance at the picture a flicker that looked like grief in his eyes. Then as calm as ever. 'What does this have to do with me?
"Why? That's what I want to know?" Reynolds glared "Did they get greedy? Did you? Maybe they wanted out?"
Neal waited for the tirade to end hands folded on the table, body lax, blue eyes on Reynolds' face, careful not to look at the picture.
"You think I killed them? I don't suppose you have any evidence…"
Reynolds glare darkened he tossed crime scene photos on the table. Neal's eyes never dropped for even a second.
Peter was moving before the first photo hit the table. He burst into the room, cold fury in his face. Neal didn't do violence or bodies. And this idiot was going to force him to look at his friends … his friend's remains.
"That's enough." Peter hissed through clenched teeth.
"hey peter" Neal grinned at him… his eyes screaming his thanks" you found me again."
"Always do. this makes me, what, 5 and 0?"
"4 and 0, it doesn't count if I'm trying to get caught."
"What are you doing Burke?" Reynolds ground out
"Put those away. He doesn't need to see that. "His tone protective, he glanced at his friend, a look that ordered go now
"I think he does –"Reynolds began
"Agent Reynolds" the interruption was bland "It's been fun but since it doesn't appear you have anything to connect me to murder…" Neal stood up and lay the cuffs on the table careful to keep his eyes straight ahead "I have a business to run."
"You are a sociopath" Reynolds snarled
"Wouldn't be the first person to call me that." Neal tossed over his shoulder as he strolled out of the room.
()()()()()()(
The ride back to 216 rue Mitchel Carre was surprisingly quiet. After Neal walked out Reynolds had exploded at Peter, demanding to know what he was thinking, threatening obstruction
Peter waited out the tirade impatiently before answering "Are you finished? I warned you he wouldn't talk to you if you came at him that way." He took a deep breath and looked Reynolds in the eye "I'm trying to help you. I know Neal. When he feels cornered, Neal runs… it's what he does. And he doesn't do confessions…" Peter continued as Reynolds interrupted. "Let me talk to him and I can find out what he knows.'
"No. He's got you so manipulated you can't even see what he is."
"I worked with the kid for 3 years. I know exactly what he is. He's a thief, a forger a con artist…but he hates guns, violence makes him almost sick."
"And that couldn't have been an act?"
"He knows something Reynolds… he's not a killer but he knows something about this… if you want to know what you will do this my way and start treating him like a witness instead of a suspect."
"Fine…we'll try it your way, but I am going to be there"
After hailing a taxi they rode in silence, lost in their own thoughts. "To be honest" Peter admitted to himself "I'm worried…" in the year since he'd seen his friend ,Neal had lost weight, and he looked exhausted. And Peter had not missed the trace of fear and pain in his voice. These boys …these deaths affected him far more than he was willing to admit.
Three flights of stairs and he was knocking on the door. It swung open quietly. Neal's eyes darken as they fall on Reynolds behind Peter.
"Go home Peter."
"Can't do that."
"I'm not your responsibility anymore."
But you are still my friend "Neal…" he met the younger man's eyes.
Neal sighed… and stepped back out of the doorway, the very definition of controlled tension. "Reynolds?' Neal inclined his head slightly. He kept his hands in his pockets, Peter notices, out of sight as he walks to his small kitchen.
Peter glanced at the other agent "give me a few minutes" he said softly "he will talk to me… but he doesn't trust you'
Reynolds practically growled but he stayed in the hallway as Peter gently closed the door.
The apartment is small but elegant, windows overlooking the river. Everything is neatly in its place
The painting on the easel is unlike any Peter has ever seen Neal create… the colors dark and harsh. A small stream flowing through the forest... but the feeling it creates is far from peaceful. In fact it sends a tiny shiver down his spine.
"Been thinking, I see" he gestures to the piece.
"Couldn't sleep." Neal saunters back to the stool at the easel, a glass of wine steadying his hands.
"Nice place… and with a view."
"Of course." The grin hadn't changed a bit… quiet settled over them. "How's Elisabeth… and the baby?"
"She's great… they're great."
"He's 8 months old now, right?"
"Yeah…" Peter hesitated "smart too…trying to talk already"
"Bet you are a great dad." The tone quiet…reflective.
"Mozzie stopped by to meet him… I told Elle to watch him. He'd have the boy picking pockets by 2 if we don't" Peter saw the smile almost reach his friend's eyes.
"Any interesting cases lately?"
"You mean you don't know? Someone's been reading my e-mails"
"Allegedly" they both smiled.
"Jones has my old job… Diana moved to DC last week."
"Happily ever after…" Neal studied the wine in his glass
"Been kind of quiet at the office, actually…since…"
Neal looks at him now his expression wavering. "Bet you enjoy that." He started to smile but it died on his lips with a glimpse of Peter's expression. Silence hung in the air between them… "I'm sorry…" it's barely more than a whisper "I didn't have a choice"
"There is always a choice Neal! You let your friends think you were dead! Do you have any idea what that did to… everyone?"
"It was the right thing to do." He studied the glass in his hands for a moment "you told me once to do the right thing and let the chips fall where they may… It was the right thing."
"The right thing!" he snapped "do you know how many tears Elle cried for you?!"
"Not as many as she would for you" the answer was barely more than a whisper, as he turned away.
Peter stiffened … his retort faltering on his lips…the moment lingered "you thought you were protecting us?" A small nod is the only response. "From what?"
"From me!" in anyone else's voice the hitch would have been a sob. "I destroy everything good around me… Kate, Ellen…" he ran his fingers through his hair angrily
"Donny, Rico and Leo too?"
Neal nodded and turned to face him…his mask shattered "I killed them, Peter"
"I don't believe that."
"I may not have pulled the trigger but I might as well have. Donny was my best friend and I…it was my idea…" turning back to the window he clenched his fist against his thigh
"What happened Neal?" the younger man just shook his head in response. "You have to talk to Reynolds... Tell him what you know… for Donny"
"I can't. "He glanced at Peter before uttering two words Peter had never heard him say. "I'm… afraid."