Thief in the Woods

Chapter 3: Loony Tunes

Federal Building. Thursday, September 28, 2006.

Diana gazed wistfully at Neal's whiteboard in the niche he'd appropriated in the tech lab for art investigations.

"I'm going to miss your cartoons," she said, the corners of her mouth drooping. "How will White Collar manage without an artist in residence?"

Neal stood next to her. "You could pick up the mantle."

"Me? I'm no artist."

"Don't sell yourself short. Besides, I've seen some amazing cartoons using stick figures. You should give it a try."

She gave him a light punch. "I just might, but only if you come back to see them."

"I'll be such a frequent visitor that before long you'll be giving me the hex sign to stay away."

"Never!" Diana's cell phone buzzed. She glanced at the display and made a face. "Duty calls, but don't forget Foley's this evening."

The team was gathering at the local tavern for a farewell party. They'd hoped to get together for lunch but Jones was working a case, and Peter was scheduled for meetings most of the day.

The lab was quiet. Neal missed Travis's presence. When Neal set up his art niche, Travis occupied the workstation next to him. He'd left for greener pastures at the end of August but continued to consult with the Bureau as well as Win-Win.

Soon Neal would be in a similar situation. Many of the insurance cases and investigations he'd work on would dovetail with the Bureau, and Neal expected to see Jones and Diana regularly. As for Peter, their friendship would continue outside the office.

Most of the equipment Neal used for authentication work would be repurposed. He'd brought in art supplies over the years and those he was packing up to take home. Art crimes investigations would be handled out of the D.C. office, although Jemison had mentioned the possibility of contacting him if the case warranted it. His departure from the Bureau wasn't accompanied by any burnt bridges. Jemison believed the primary factor in his refusal to relocate was his doctoral work at Columbia.

Neal sat down at his desk and began pulling out his personal items. Perhaps he should leave the deck of playing cards for Jones. He'd demonstrated many a confidence trick with them. In one of the drawers was a paper cutout of a ghost, a lone survivor from when he and Diana had decorated the bullpen with them. Would Diana change now that she was in charge of a new probie? Lauren Cruz had started last week. She'd undoubtedly appreciate a few tips on the subject of office pranks.

"Don't tell me you're already growing nostalgic for mortgage fraud."

Neal spun in his chair to smile at Peter. "Ask me again in a few weeks. Right now, I'm just weeding out the ghosts." He held up the cutout. "Do you have much to pack?"

"Not me. A crew will move everything over the weekend." Peter glanced around the lab. "I suspect I'll see a few ghosts from White Collar next week. My new office is configured much like my old one. When I stand on the balcony, look down, and not see the bust of Socrates, that's when it will hit me."

"Hey, it's not like I'm moving to Paris," Neal said, seeking to lighten the mood even as he reveled in the Socrates reference. "We'll be seeing each other so much, you won't think I'm gone. Of course, there's always the possibility I could come back and work in Organized Crime. You and me, taking on the Mafia, the Yakuza. Could be fun."

Peter snorted. "Nope, nada, not happening. And don't joke like that around El. I've convinced her my supervisory role won't be a dangerous one."

Was that what bothered him? Leaving fieldwork was the right move for his career, but how much would he miss it?