Complications

Chapter 1: Atypical Behavior

Federal Building, New York. Monday, April 26, 2004.

Among the many changes that the recruitment of Neal Caffrey brought to Peter Burke's life, the antenna that emerged in his head seemingly overnight was the most unexpected.

He called it his Neal radar. Precisely tuned to his consultant's frequency, it sent off warning blips whenever something was amiss, and, in general, had proven to be highly reliable.

He supposed the growth of the appendage was understandable. Recruiting a thief and forger to be part of your team just as you assumed leadership of the White Collar task force would unsettle anyone, no matter how charming and skilled he was. Peter's former mentor Phil Kramer had been blunt in his disapproval. As for Peter's boss, Hughes had signed off on the decision while warning of the disastrous consequences any slip-up would have on both Neal and Peter.

Under the circumstances, who wouldn't keep a careful eye out for any blips on the horizon?

Neal had now worked at the Bureau for close to five months. They'd successfully navigated the treacherous waters of former criminal associates trying to drag him back to his former life and self-righteous Bureau agents sabotaging his case assignments. It had gotten to the point that Peter was starting to display helicopter dad tendencies, at least according to his wife Elizabeth.

In fairness, what good team leader wouldn't? Neal was younger than anyone else on the team. A couple of months ago, he'd been poisoned, abducted, and forced to relive disturbing memories of child abuse. Who wouldn't be sympathetic? And the fact that Neal had decided to make him his father figure didn't help.

This past month, both of them had been able to breathe easier. The cases had all been routine. Neal had reunited with his Caffrey relatives. His aunt Noelle in particular was providing a stabilizing influence. As for her son Henry, he was still somewhat of a question mark. Coupled with his desire to protect Neal was a frustrating tendency to act on his own without consulting others.

Still, Peter's inner radar had been dormant for so long that he forgot he had one.

Until Monday morning, that is. The slow blip ... blip ... blip in his head came out of nowhere, and for seemingly no good reason. Was this a case of equipment malfunction?

The day had started innocently enough. The team had gathered in the conference room for the morning briefing. Peter realized his announcement wouldn't be popular. He hoped the agents would remember their workloads had been on the light side for the past two weeks. A course correction was overdue.

He waited till everyone had given their case updates before breaking the news.

"In a couple of weeks, I'll move into budget planning mode for the upcoming year. The assistant director has decided that he wants all outstanding case reports to be completed before the budgeting process begins. I took an inventory over the weekend and discovered there's quite a stack left to be done, including plenty of everyone's favorite—mortgage frauds. Don't forget to pick up your share on your way out. They've already been sorted and tagged. We should be able to work through all of them in the next ten days."

That's when the first blip sounded. Neal's voice was absent from the chorus of grumbles and groans. Normally, he'd be leading the choir. Odd, yes, but he'd probably been distracted by whatever he was doodling.

But the blips didn't end there. Neal was the last one to leave the room. Peter was surprised to see him pick up his batch of files without comment.

"I was braced for you zinging me about the thrill of mortgage fraud cases. Are you feeling okay?" Neal's eyes looked a little bloodshot, and Peter had caught him yawning a couple of times during the briefing.