Wherever You Happen to Be: Chapter 13
For Chapter 12, click HERE
Neal had trouble with his tie the next morning. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and he was alternately worried that he was going to give it away by grinning his face off or give it away by going berzerk and trying to strangle Kramer. But at least Peter knew. And all the people who loved him-yes, loved him-knew that he was here and okay and that he missed them. He’d lain awake all night thinking of all the things he could have told Peter, all the things he should have told Peter. He remembered that he hadn’t been grateful enough for Peter’s largesse as a handler, he hadn’t been grateful enough to June for taking him in, for making it possible for him to live in style and comfort. He remembered the way Peter looked at him, hugged him tight. Not since Kate…well, really, not ever had he had someone who had pushed past all his boundaries to drag him, unwillingly sometimes, into the heady warmth of real friendship. When he saw Mozzie again he was going to give him a hug just like that, and watch the little man avoid him for a month!
Somehow, the tie was tied. Somehow, he had managed to get both the grin off his face and the brightness out of his eyes. Somehow, he was going to go into the Art Crimes office and do whatever they gave him, whatever it took-until Peter figured out how to bring him home.
Peter would find a way. Neal just knew it.
****
The hardest part of the meeting, El thought, was getting them all to slow down and actually listen to each other. There was so much to tell, so much to be hopeful about, so much to be sorry about. She glanced over at Peter and saw that he was doing okay. The weight of guilt and sorrow that had fitted over him like a shroud hadn’t quite lifted, but El was pretty sure it was becoming more transparent. She had been the first to know, the first to see Peter when he got home with news of Neal, the first to share Peter’s sorrow in what he had discovered.
He’d been kicking himself the whole way home over the things he hadn’t thought to ask about, the things he hadn’t told, but they had addresses and they had a contact and maybe a helper in Neal’s office. Things were better.
The real bombshell of the evening, however, belonged to Sara. Well, to Sara and Mozzie and Clinton, who had helped them with knowing what to say when they saw Kramer’s old C.I. Sara’s legwork and a few well-placed calls from Clinton had gotten the ball rolling. Peter left the meeting once to go out on the porch and call Reese, who had not minded at all being disturbed at a cocktail party to come and talk to Peter about getting Neal back.
Things were looking up. El looked around her full living room and thought, “This is Neal’s family. Neal should be here.” She wondered what had happened to Neal’s birth family-what had sent Neal hurtling into adulthood without the loving support of people who cared about him, people who worried about him, wherever he was. El looked out the kitchen window and saw the moon, smiling like it knew something. Well, Peter know something now! she wanted to shout. And Neal will be coming home soon!
He would be-Peter would see to it!
****
The District Attorney had been more than a little surprised to get the call, but he assured Reese he would look into it and let him know what he found out.
“That’s all we can do for now on that front,” Peter said. “Diana-get me an update on the group looking the Mortenson Mortgage Fraud.”
“Um, Boss-we had to pull that group to work on David Cook.”
“Any luck there?” asked Peter, but without much hope.
“Not really,” said Diana. “He’s sneaky. Crooked and sneaky. Damn, I wish Neal was here.”
“Speaking of crooked and sneaky?” Peter asked, but smiled when he said it. They were all in better moods today.
“You think Neal is holding up okay?”
“Well, June is going to see him today.”
“Today, Boss? Don’t you think that’s a little risky? Kramer will be watching us.”
“That’s right,” said Peter. “Kramer will be watching us. I’m going to make as big a stink as I can about not getting to see Neal yesterday-really play it up. That will put the dogs off the scent, at least a little. June is just going up for a comfort visit.”
Diana laughed. “Said the man who told Neal to ‘cowboy up’ when he parked his C.I. in a little fleabag hotel.”
Peter colored. “Well, this is different,” he said gruffly. “Then, Neal was a con man, doing time that he deserved. Now-did you know Neal’s not been out of the Art Crimes office once until yesterday?”
“I heard you say that last night, but I don’t understand. Why would Kramer do that? Neal is brilliant in the field.” She looked behind her, her face flushing. “Don’t tell him I said that,” she demanded. “If he doesn’t want Neal in the field....”
“I think he does want Neal in the field,” said Peter. “But he doesn’t trust him. Kramer doesn’t trust anyone. It’s part of what makes him a good agent-that suspicious nature, but he didn’t used to be like this. Now he…I don’t know. Do you know the story of the dog in the manger?”
Diana nodded. “My father used to tell it to me when I didn’t want to share my toys.”
Peter nodded. “Maybe a little of that going on. Maybe just the inability to admit he was wrong.”
“I’m glad you got to see him,” said Diana. “It…makes me feel better, you know?”
****
“I understand you did very well in the field yesterday,” said Kramer, coming up behind Neal at the desk where he sat. Neal had learned to recognize his almost silent footfalls, but it was still a challenge in the busy office. At least he didn’t flinch, and luckily he didn’t say, “Yes-Agent Matthews told me I did a very good job holding her purse and looking earnest.”
He found that he could not hold on to the biting anger that had seized him yesterday, but the awareness-the very real realization of what he might have missed had Kramer succeeded-left resentment bubbling under his skin like lava.
“Thank you, Agent Kramer,” Neal said formally. “At White Collar, I spent most of my time in the field. I’m told I’m good at it.”
“No doubt,” said Kramer. He looked at Neal, and Neal concentrated on making his face as bland and banal and unreadable as it could be. Still, he felt sweat break out under his armpits before Kramer was done. Neal had stood up under Peter’s worst glowers-had given back a few-but Kramer’s stares sometimes made his blood run cold. Perhaps it was the knowledge that, to Kramer, he was nothing more than a criminal, nothing more than an unrepentant (well….), irretrievable soul. To Kramer, his whole worth had been set when the prison doors had clanged shut the first time…or had they? Out of the blue, Neal remembered something Peter had once said, something about Kramer having had a C.I. That had been in the later days, the bad days, the days when Peter had thought him unredeemable, beyond saving.
But Peter didn’t think that now, and Neal was coming to realize that he didn’t think that now. He stood a little taller under Kramer’s gaze.
“Well, let’s see, then,” said Kramer. “We’re going to take down an art thief when he tries to fence two small pieces from the Museum of Modern Art, but the fence is not friendly.”
“How are you guaranteeing cooperation?”
Kramer looked surprised. “If she doesn’t cooperate, we’ll shut her down. She’ll be facing changes herself, receiving stolen property.”
“See, that’s where you’re…I mean, that’s not how I would do it, Sir,” Neal said. Kramer looked at him.
“Oh? What would you do, Neal?”
“I’d offer her immunity, for starters, but when you make the arrest, make sure she’s taken into custody as well. She’s no good to you if they think she’ll snitch.”
“They who? We already have our target.”
“Yes, sir-this time. But in the long run, you’ll do better by building a rapport with her, building a relationship with her so that she’ll come to you when something really important comes along.”
Kramer looked at him. “And what do you consider really important, Neal?”
Here Neal smiled, the biggest, blandest con-man smile in his repertoire. “I like it all,” he said.
Kramer looked at him for a long moment. “I don’t know if I want to bring you along or not,” Kramer mused. “I’m never sure which side you’re on.”
“I’m going to be on the side that butters my bread,” said Neal. It rankled, but it was the sort of thing Kramer expected to hear.
“I imagine that’s true,” said Kramer. “Come on, then.” He called over his shoulder. “Dack-Caffrey’s coming along. Help me keep an eye on him, won’t you?”
Dack looked at Neal apologetically, and Neal shrugged. “It’s my first time on a big raid,” he said, sounding like a little boy. He rolled his eyes after he said it and Dack grinned and rolled his eyes back, glad Caffrey hadn’t taken offence. Kramer could be a real piece of work-legalistic old bastard-but he did usually manage to bring home the bad guy.
“I know you can’t carry,” said Dack, “so stick close, okay? Sometimes they come out shooting when they’re cornered.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” said Neal, and followed them out the door.
****
“James, this is possibly the nicest date I have had in some time,” said June. They were sitting at a little café having coffee and pie while the other senior citizens bought souvenirs and tickets to take back home.
“From you, that’s quite a compliment,’ said James, teasing her. “I was ready to bring my big stick in case I had to beat the other contenders off.”
June laughed. “Thank you,” she said. “So far I seem to have been able to get rid of the ones I don’t want on my own.”
“And I’m still here,” said James.
“That you are,” She smiled and leaned forward. “Look, James, I was wondering if you would come with me on an errand. Make a little stop with me.”
James looks surprised. “I…I don’t usually leave the bus,” he said. It was parked nearby in the bus parking lot.
“Oh, we can take the bus if you prefer, but if you think it will be okay in the parking lot, I’ll just get us a taxi.”
James hesitated. “Well,” he said. “I don’t guess there’s any harm in it.”
“None,” said June. “I just want to deliver a package to a friend of mine’s daughter. She attending Georgetown. I have her address here….” She pulled out a worn address book and flipped pages. “Here it is,” she said, pointing. “It’s near Georgetown.”
****
“Sir, I want to thank you,” said Sara. She stood, elegant in a teal wool dress with an asymmetrical neckline. “You information was very good. Very good indeed.”
The old man sitting in the leather booth nodded, accepting her praise. “I understand you have something for me, now?” His eyes were bright behind hooded lids.
Sara reached to take something out of her purse, and both of the enormous men on either side of him tensed. Sara smiled at them, and moved slowly.
“Here’s a list of names,” she said, “of people in your organization who recently took out insurance policies on items that might interest you.” She handed it over. “I think it’s only fair to say that Sterling Bosch has an interest in those items as well. If they were to go missing, then my company would be responsible for paying the insurance claim, but since most of these items seem to belong to you….” She smiled.
“You’re a smart lady,” said the man. “And very beautiful.”
Sara smiled again, a wide predatory smile.
“Tell Mozzie I said hello, won’t you?” said the man. “Tell him I’m pleased that he thought of me.”
“I will, Sir,” said Sara. She hesitated. “I sincerely hope we don’t meet again,” she said gently, “unless, of course, it's under circumstances like these.”
“I promise to do my best to make it so,” he intoned solemnly.
“Thank you, Sir,” said Sara as she turned to go. “I know I can count on your promise.”
****
Neal walked June down the stairs but then didn’t go out on the curb. Before she stepped out, she’d put her hat and sunglasses back on.
“June,” said Neal, letting her hug him one last time. “Thank you so much for coming. I-you don’t know how much I miss being…home.”
“Oh, I’ll bet I can guess,” she said gently. “You remember Byron was…away…more than once. I know how lonely it can get.”
“And thank you for the…for the news. Peter and I, we didn’t get to talk.”
“Well, we’ll all have a chance to talk soon,” said June. “Peter’s working on something. And Sara is helping.”
“Sara?” Neal’s smile broadened. “If Sara’s helping, Kramer had better watch his step. He threatened her once, you know?”
“I know, dear. It seems to be his modus operandi.” She put her hand on his cheek and he caught it and kissed it.
“Thank you, June. Thank you so much for coming.”
“I just wanted to see for myself that you were okay.” She put her hat back on and adjusted her sunglasses. “What do you think of my ‘date’? she asked. “I think he’s kind of hot.”
“I say you’ve still got it, June.”
She laughed and walked out the door. Watching her, Neal’s eyes felt hot and tight, but he was smiling broadly. How much things had changed in the past three days! Everything seemed better.
He started up the stairs. Even work had gone better than expected. His first real outside-the-office assignment, the take-down, had gone down without a hitch-well, almost without a hitch. He was still trying to make sense of what had happened after, when Agent Dack had left with one of their captives and left him alone with Kramer at the top of the stairs.
He had started down, but Kramer had clutched his arm, pulling hard, and Neal had swung around, ready to ask Kramer politely to let go, but Kramer seemed to be disoriented, his head turning from side to side as though looking for something and he took an uncertain step forward.
“Agent Kramer?” Neal had said, and gripped the man’s shoulders to steady him. There was not much maneuvering room at the top of these stairs, and he didn’t have any desire to take a tumble. “Agent Kramer?”
Kramer had looked at him, face blank, mouth moving, then suddenly he grabbed Neal’s arms convulsively, his face flooding with recognition.
“What…what happened?” Kramer had said. “Did…where are we?”
Neal had stared at his handler, alarmed. “We’re getting ready to go back to the Art Crimes Office, Agent Kramer,” Neal had said. “The other agents just left. Are you okay?”
Kramer had rapidly regained his composure. “Of course I’m okay, KC,” he’d snapped. “Why wouldn’t I be? I…just got a little light-headed after the excitement, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.” He’d started for the steps, stumbling a little, but Neal caught his arm. “What?” he’d demanded angrily. “Why are you holding me back?”
“The, um, stair rail is loose,” Neal had said. “Be careful on the way down.”
Kramer had rattled the rail, then looked up at Neal. “I guess you’d better go down ahead of me,” he’d said. “Where I can keep an eye on you.”
Neal had been more than happy to comply.
What had it all meant? Back at the office-indeed, before they’d made it back to the office, Kramer had been back to his usual charming self. When the car had pulled up in front of the building and the other agents had started to get out, Kramer’s hand had closed around his forearm like a vise.
“Don’t say a word to anyone,” Kramer had murmured out of the corner of his mouth.
“I…no sir,” Neal had muttered, and followed Kramer into the building.
Alone in his room, with coffee and cookies and a tin of truffles, Neal had lain back on the bed and felt rich beyond compare. But he kept seeing Kramer’s face, blank and terrified, turning from side to side. Kramer had told him not to tell, and right now, Neal’s whole world revolved around not openly defying Agent Kramer. If something was wrong, who could he tell?
He pondered for a moment, licking his finger and picking cookie crumbs off his chest. Chandra had been his secret friend, had sent him Peter. Maybe he could tell her. That would have to do.
That night, as he drifted off to sleep, Neal felt less alone than he had in a long, long while.
For Chapter 14, click HERE
Neal had trouble with his tie the next morning. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and he was alternately worried that he was going to give it away by grinning his face off or give it away by going berzerk and trying to strangle Kramer. But at least Peter knew. And all the people who loved him-yes, loved him-knew that he was here and okay and that he missed them. He’d lain awake all night thinking of all the things he could have told Peter, all the things he should have told Peter. He remembered that he hadn’t been grateful enough for Peter’s largesse as a handler, he hadn’t been grateful enough to June for taking him in, for making it possible for him to live in style and comfort. He remembered the way Peter looked at him, hugged him tight. Not since Kate…well, really, not ever had he had someone who had pushed past all his boundaries to drag him, unwillingly sometimes, into the heady warmth of real friendship. When he saw Mozzie again he was going to give him a hug just like that, and watch the little man avoid him for a month!
Somehow, the tie was tied. Somehow, he had managed to get both the grin off his face and the brightness out of his eyes. Somehow, he was going to go into the Art Crimes office and do whatever they gave him, whatever it took-until Peter figured out how to bring him home.
Peter would find a way. Neal just knew it.
****
The hardest part of the meeting, El thought, was getting them all to slow down and actually listen to each other. There was so much to tell, so much to be hopeful about, so much to be sorry about. She glanced over at Peter and saw that he was doing okay. The weight of guilt and sorrow that had fitted over him like a shroud hadn’t quite lifted, but El was pretty sure it was becoming more transparent. She had been the first to know, the first to see Peter when he got home with news of Neal, the first to share Peter’s sorrow in what he had discovered.
He’d been kicking himself the whole way home over the things he hadn’t thought to ask about, the things he hadn’t told, but they had addresses and they had a contact and maybe a helper in Neal’s office. Things were better.
The real bombshell of the evening, however, belonged to Sara. Well, to Sara and Mozzie and Clinton, who had helped them with knowing what to say when they saw Kramer’s old C.I. Sara’s legwork and a few well-placed calls from Clinton had gotten the ball rolling. Peter left the meeting once to go out on the porch and call Reese, who had not minded at all being disturbed at a cocktail party to come and talk to Peter about getting Neal back.
Things were looking up. El looked around her full living room and thought, “This is Neal’s family. Neal should be here.” She wondered what had happened to Neal’s birth family-what had sent Neal hurtling into adulthood without the loving support of people who cared about him, people who worried about him, wherever he was. El looked out the kitchen window and saw the moon, smiling like it knew something. Well, Peter know something now! she wanted to shout. And Neal will be coming home soon!
He would be-Peter would see to it!
****
The District Attorney had been more than a little surprised to get the call, but he assured Reese he would look into it and let him know what he found out.
“That’s all we can do for now on that front,” Peter said. “Diana-get me an update on the group looking the Mortenson Mortgage Fraud.”
“Um, Boss-we had to pull that group to work on David Cook.”
“Any luck there?” asked Peter, but without much hope.
“Not really,” said Diana. “He’s sneaky. Crooked and sneaky. Damn, I wish Neal was here.”
“Speaking of crooked and sneaky?” Peter asked, but smiled when he said it. They were all in better moods today.
“You think Neal is holding up okay?”
“Well, June is going to see him today.”
“Today, Boss? Don’t you think that’s a little risky? Kramer will be watching us.”
“That’s right,” said Peter. “Kramer will be watching us. I’m going to make as big a stink as I can about not getting to see Neal yesterday-really play it up. That will put the dogs off the scent, at least a little. June is just going up for a comfort visit.”
Diana laughed. “Said the man who told Neal to ‘cowboy up’ when he parked his C.I. in a little fleabag hotel.”
Peter colored. “Well, this is different,” he said gruffly. “Then, Neal was a con man, doing time that he deserved. Now-did you know Neal’s not been out of the Art Crimes office once until yesterday?”
“I heard you say that last night, but I don’t understand. Why would Kramer do that? Neal is brilliant in the field.” She looked behind her, her face flushing. “Don’t tell him I said that,” she demanded. “If he doesn’t want Neal in the field....”
“I think he does want Neal in the field,” said Peter. “But he doesn’t trust him. Kramer doesn’t trust anyone. It’s part of what makes him a good agent-that suspicious nature, but he didn’t used to be like this. Now he…I don’t know. Do you know the story of the dog in the manger?”
Diana nodded. “My father used to tell it to me when I didn’t want to share my toys.”
Peter nodded. “Maybe a little of that going on. Maybe just the inability to admit he was wrong.”
“I’m glad you got to see him,” said Diana. “It…makes me feel better, you know?”
****
“I understand you did very well in the field yesterday,” said Kramer, coming up behind Neal at the desk where he sat. Neal had learned to recognize his almost silent footfalls, but it was still a challenge in the busy office. At least he didn’t flinch, and luckily he didn’t say, “Yes-Agent Matthews told me I did a very good job holding her purse and looking earnest.”
He found that he could not hold on to the biting anger that had seized him yesterday, but the awareness-the very real realization of what he might have missed had Kramer succeeded-left resentment bubbling under his skin like lava.
“Thank you, Agent Kramer,” Neal said formally. “At White Collar, I spent most of my time in the field. I’m told I’m good at it.”
“No doubt,” said Kramer. He looked at Neal, and Neal concentrated on making his face as bland and banal and unreadable as it could be. Still, he felt sweat break out under his armpits before Kramer was done. Neal had stood up under Peter’s worst glowers-had given back a few-but Kramer’s stares sometimes made his blood run cold. Perhaps it was the knowledge that, to Kramer, he was nothing more than a criminal, nothing more than an unrepentant (well….), irretrievable soul. To Kramer, his whole worth had been set when the prison doors had clanged shut the first time…or had they? Out of the blue, Neal remembered something Peter had once said, something about Kramer having had a C.I. That had been in the later days, the bad days, the days when Peter had thought him unredeemable, beyond saving.
But Peter didn’t think that now, and Neal was coming to realize that he didn’t think that now. He stood a little taller under Kramer’s gaze.
“Well, let’s see, then,” said Kramer. “We’re going to take down an art thief when he tries to fence two small pieces from the Museum of Modern Art, but the fence is not friendly.”
“How are you guaranteeing cooperation?”
Kramer looked surprised. “If she doesn’t cooperate, we’ll shut her down. She’ll be facing changes herself, receiving stolen property.”
“See, that’s where you’re…I mean, that’s not how I would do it, Sir,” Neal said. Kramer looked at him.
“Oh? What would you do, Neal?”
“I’d offer her immunity, for starters, but when you make the arrest, make sure she’s taken into custody as well. She’s no good to you if they think she’ll snitch.”
“They who? We already have our target.”
“Yes, sir-this time. But in the long run, you’ll do better by building a rapport with her, building a relationship with her so that she’ll come to you when something really important comes along.”
Kramer looked at him. “And what do you consider really important, Neal?”
Here Neal smiled, the biggest, blandest con-man smile in his repertoire. “I like it all,” he said.
Kramer looked at him for a long moment. “I don’t know if I want to bring you along or not,” Kramer mused. “I’m never sure which side you’re on.”
“I’m going to be on the side that butters my bread,” said Neal. It rankled, but it was the sort of thing Kramer expected to hear.
“I imagine that’s true,” said Kramer. “Come on, then.” He called over his shoulder. “Dack-Caffrey’s coming along. Help me keep an eye on him, won’t you?”
Dack looked at Neal apologetically, and Neal shrugged. “It’s my first time on a big raid,” he said, sounding like a little boy. He rolled his eyes after he said it and Dack grinned and rolled his eyes back, glad Caffrey hadn’t taken offence. Kramer could be a real piece of work-legalistic old bastard-but he did usually manage to bring home the bad guy.
“I know you can’t carry,” said Dack, “so stick close, okay? Sometimes they come out shooting when they’re cornered.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” said Neal, and followed them out the door.
****
“James, this is possibly the nicest date I have had in some time,” said June. They were sitting at a little café having coffee and pie while the other senior citizens bought souvenirs and tickets to take back home.
“From you, that’s quite a compliment,’ said James, teasing her. “I was ready to bring my big stick in case I had to beat the other contenders off.”
June laughed. “Thank you,” she said. “So far I seem to have been able to get rid of the ones I don’t want on my own.”
“And I’m still here,” said James.
“That you are,” She smiled and leaned forward. “Look, James, I was wondering if you would come with me on an errand. Make a little stop with me.”
James looks surprised. “I…I don’t usually leave the bus,” he said. It was parked nearby in the bus parking lot.
“Oh, we can take the bus if you prefer, but if you think it will be okay in the parking lot, I’ll just get us a taxi.”
James hesitated. “Well,” he said. “I don’t guess there’s any harm in it.”
“None,” said June. “I just want to deliver a package to a friend of mine’s daughter. She attending Georgetown. I have her address here….” She pulled out a worn address book and flipped pages. “Here it is,” she said, pointing. “It’s near Georgetown.”
****
“Sir, I want to thank you,” said Sara. She stood, elegant in a teal wool dress with an asymmetrical neckline. “You information was very good. Very good indeed.”
The old man sitting in the leather booth nodded, accepting her praise. “I understand you have something for me, now?” His eyes were bright behind hooded lids.
Sara reached to take something out of her purse, and both of the enormous men on either side of him tensed. Sara smiled at them, and moved slowly.
“Here’s a list of names,” she said, “of people in your organization who recently took out insurance policies on items that might interest you.” She handed it over. “I think it’s only fair to say that Sterling Bosch has an interest in those items as well. If they were to go missing, then my company would be responsible for paying the insurance claim, but since most of these items seem to belong to you….” She smiled.
“You’re a smart lady,” said the man. “And very beautiful.”
Sara smiled again, a wide predatory smile.
“Tell Mozzie I said hello, won’t you?” said the man. “Tell him I’m pleased that he thought of me.”
“I will, Sir,” said Sara. She hesitated. “I sincerely hope we don’t meet again,” she said gently, “unless, of course, it's under circumstances like these.”
“I promise to do my best to make it so,” he intoned solemnly.
“Thank you, Sir,” said Sara as she turned to go. “I know I can count on your promise.”
****
Neal walked June down the stairs but then didn’t go out on the curb. Before she stepped out, she’d put her hat and sunglasses back on.
“June,” said Neal, letting her hug him one last time. “Thank you so much for coming. I-you don’t know how much I miss being…home.”
“Oh, I’ll bet I can guess,” she said gently. “You remember Byron was…away…more than once. I know how lonely it can get.”
“And thank you for the…for the news. Peter and I, we didn’t get to talk.”
“Well, we’ll all have a chance to talk soon,” said June. “Peter’s working on something. And Sara is helping.”
“Sara?” Neal’s smile broadened. “If Sara’s helping, Kramer had better watch his step. He threatened her once, you know?”
“I know, dear. It seems to be his modus operandi.” She put her hand on his cheek and he caught it and kissed it.
“Thank you, June. Thank you so much for coming.”
“I just wanted to see for myself that you were okay.” She put her hat back on and adjusted her sunglasses. “What do you think of my ‘date’? she asked. “I think he’s kind of hot.”
“I say you’ve still got it, June.”
She laughed and walked out the door. Watching her, Neal’s eyes felt hot and tight, but he was smiling broadly. How much things had changed in the past three days! Everything seemed better.
He started up the stairs. Even work had gone better than expected. His first real outside-the-office assignment, the take-down, had gone down without a hitch-well, almost without a hitch. He was still trying to make sense of what had happened after, when Agent Dack had left with one of their captives and left him alone with Kramer at the top of the stairs.
He had started down, but Kramer had clutched his arm, pulling hard, and Neal had swung around, ready to ask Kramer politely to let go, but Kramer seemed to be disoriented, his head turning from side to side as though looking for something and he took an uncertain step forward.
“Agent Kramer?” Neal had said, and gripped the man’s shoulders to steady him. There was not much maneuvering room at the top of these stairs, and he didn’t have any desire to take a tumble. “Agent Kramer?”
Kramer had looked at him, face blank, mouth moving, then suddenly he grabbed Neal’s arms convulsively, his face flooding with recognition.
“What…what happened?” Kramer had said. “Did…where are we?”
Neal had stared at his handler, alarmed. “We’re getting ready to go back to the Art Crimes Office, Agent Kramer,” Neal had said. “The other agents just left. Are you okay?”
Kramer had rapidly regained his composure. “Of course I’m okay, KC,” he’d snapped. “Why wouldn’t I be? I…just got a little light-headed after the excitement, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.” He’d started for the steps, stumbling a little, but Neal caught his arm. “What?” he’d demanded angrily. “Why are you holding me back?”
“The, um, stair rail is loose,” Neal had said. “Be careful on the way down.”
Kramer had rattled the rail, then looked up at Neal. “I guess you’d better go down ahead of me,” he’d said. “Where I can keep an eye on you.”
Neal had been more than happy to comply.
What had it all meant? Back at the office-indeed, before they’d made it back to the office, Kramer had been back to his usual charming self. When the car had pulled up in front of the building and the other agents had started to get out, Kramer’s hand had closed around his forearm like a vise.
“Don’t say a word to anyone,” Kramer had murmured out of the corner of his mouth.
“I…no sir,” Neal had muttered, and followed Kramer into the building.
Alone in his room, with coffee and cookies and a tin of truffles, Neal had lain back on the bed and felt rich beyond compare. But he kept seeing Kramer’s face, blank and terrified, turning from side to side. Kramer had told him not to tell, and right now, Neal’s whole world revolved around not openly defying Agent Kramer. If something was wrong, who could he tell?
He pondered for a moment, licking his finger and picking cookie crumbs off his chest. Chandra had been his secret friend, had sent him Peter. Maybe he could tell her. That would have to do.
That night, as he drifted off to sleep, Neal felt less alone than he had in a long, long while.
For Chapter 14, click HERE