White Collar: An unofficial novel - part 1

Printing Press

Peter liked to walk. It cleared the head. They had come no further in the Dutchman case though.

They had spoken some more about the FBI framework, dos and do nots. Neal seemed to listen and eager to learn. It felt promising. Peter wished Neal would not go back to prison so soon. He wanted this kid to work with him, for the FBI. They had made so much progress in just three days. It was, however, unlikely they would make that much progress to catch the Dutchman within a week. Both better be prepared for it.

"Remember when you told me not to look for Kate?" Neal asked out of the blue after a few minutes of silent walk.

"Yeah." Of course, Kate would be mentioned sooner or later. Neal handed him a black and white photo with Kate from a strange angle. "You're putting me in a tough spot."

"These were taken at a San Diego ATM," Neal informed him. "She's going under the name Kate Purdue. You know what 'Purdue' means in French?"

So Neal had searched for Kate. No surprise there. Well, he never said he was not.

"Yeah. It means 'lost'."

"Yeah. Makes you wonder, right? Is she lost to me, or without me?" The desperate romantic, the young man in love.

"Stop it," Peter prompted.

"I just need a couple of days," Neal persisted. "After this Dutchman thing is over. A couple of days to go to San Diego. You can come with me."

So many hopes and dreams. Where did he think he was? Had he forgotten his situation? And what had put him there in the first place?

"Stop it. How many times are you gonna screw up your life for this girl? I hate to break it to you, buddy, but she dumped you, with prejudice. No. Exactly what is your plan if you find her?"

Neal was silent. As Peter suspected he had not thought about it.

"I know there's more to our story," Neal said.

"She disappears in the dust?" Peter suggested.

"No. That's not an ending," Neal protested.

What? Did this man think he lived in a fairytale?

"Come on, kid. We've all been there. It gets easier."

"Not if she's the one," Neal insisted. "I brought this to you. Doesn't that count for something?" It was no rebuke in his voice. Only a desperate need to find the women he loved with all means possible.

"No," Peter replied, angry now. "We made a deal. I gave you something good here, and you're about to blow it."

Neal looked like he punched him in the gut. Then the vulnerability disappeared and the wide, confident grin appeared.

"You're right," Neal agreed. "You're right, Peter. I'm a smart guy. I should know when I've been dumped."

Yeah, sure you know, Peter thought, but you keep living on false hope, and I keep my eyes on you. He knew Neal had not given up. He had just decided to keep Peter out of the loop. Maybe not one of Peter's most brilliant moves, but a necessary one. Neal was under his supervision and he could not allow it to be a Sunday pick nick where they left town to chase a woman who did not want to be found, a ghost.

They were almost back at the office.

"You figured out your anniversary plans yet?" Neal asked.

"I'm getting close. Very close."

"So you got nothing," Neal concluded after reading between the lines.