White Collar: An unofficial novel - part 15

Visit from Hogwarts

"Morning, Peter." Neal seemed all smiles. Peter could not say he felt the same. His pet convict could be released for good behavior because no one but Peter knew that there had been a vast hidden treasure involved. He glanced at the paper tray with two paper mugs. New coffee shop again.

"I see your quest for Manhattan's best brew continues."

"One's for you." Neal gave him one with two paper notes tucked into the paper sleeve.

"Oh. Yankee tickets. Versus the Red Sox," Peter read on them.

"Yeah, I got them from Frankie Whispers. I'm not gonna use them."

Peter saw the seats. He knew that stadium.

"They're behind home plate," he said.

"Oh? I hear that's good."

"Uh-huh," Peter sighed. "You bought coffee, Yankee tickets... This is not your most subtle con."

"Con? Peter, I am hurt that you —"

"You're trying to get back on my good side," Peter cut the chase short.

"Is that a crime?"

"No. But let's review what is. Mozzie steals you a treasure, and do you report it? No. You plot to steal it."

"We don't have to do this."

"Oh, but we do," Peter returned. Neal was not going to think that he would get out of his anklet that easy. Neal was a con man and would remain a con man if he was set free. He sipped his coffee. "This is good coffee," he said, surprised.

"I know. A little too sweet for my taste, but I thought you would like it."

Peter rolled his eyes. They walked into the office.

"We both know we have a file on you that needs boxes," he told Neal.

"I know. My lawyer got me a copy."

"And it hasn't stopped growing."

"But this time with legal federal work," Neal smiled as they stepped into the elevator.

"Oh?"

"It has," Neal insisted.

"It has, but only by legal federal work?" Peter asked and glared at the young man until his smile faded. They had reached the 21st floor. Peter was on territories that were not in the files and things not to be discussed in the office. He turned away from the office door and found an empty corridor. "We discovered Adler's u-boat. And while you were coming in here, looking me right in the eye, you were hiding the art under my nose. But that's not the worst of it."

"Look, Peter, I'm sorry. Okay?"

"You should be," Peter hissed back, not sure if he could trust Neal to be honest about being sorry or if it was something he said to smooth the road.

"I'm sorry Elizabeth was put in danger because of me." Peter looked at the young con man. Yeah, Neal was honest; he was sure of that. "How's she doing?"

"I don't want to talk about it here."

"Okay. All right."

"Do you really want to get back on my good side?"

"Yes."

"Then I suggest we dig into the Mortenson real-estate scam." This was, after all, a professional partnership, and it was what Neal did of the FBI that counted.

"You're right," his pet convict nodded. "Focus on work."

"Focus."