New Haven. Monday, October 2, 2006.
Sara was providing a new definition to the meaning of stakeouts, and Neal couldn't be happier about it.
On Friday evening, they'd driven in June's Jaguar to New Haven where their suite at Wisteria's inn awaited them. Neal had expected the decor to include plenty of chintz just like her sister Peony's B&B. He wasn't disappointed. But it also had an air of English country charm. He'd booked them into the Rosemary Suite, a confirmation that the hassles of bureaucratic expense forms were no longer an issue.
For a first assignment, the case was a challenging one. The local police had been unable to turn up any clues. There were no fingerprints and no evidence of break-ins even though the houses all had security systems. Only jewelry was taken. In some instances, the homeowners determined that the thefts had taken place at night in the same room where they were sleeping, but they hadn't heard anything.
Sara wasn't convinced that a stakeout in a Jaguar was a good idea until Neal pointed out no thief would believe they were conducting surveillance. And he had the pleasure of necking with Sara whenever someone strolled by.
During lulls, he coached Sara in Italian. She'd also expressed a desire to learn Russian. They were determined to make Win-Win a global player in art crimes investigations, and Sara was already preparing a list of new disguises to have on hand.
They'd brought along one of Travis's new toys—night-vision binoculars with a built-in camera. Travis's new employer had given him carte blanche to develop security toys, and Win-Win was Travis's default beta tester. When Neal first met Travis, he thought of him as White Collar's version of Q from James Bond. Now the similarity was even more striking.
Sara looked up from reading her text messages. "Another incident was reported. This one was only a block away from Maia's house."
"Same M.O.?"
She nodded. "Only jewelry was taken. The theft occurred during the night. In this case, a woman had worn a diamond necklace to dinner. The next day, she noticed it was missing. She swears no one visited the house. Have you heard anything from Chloe?"
"No, she hasn't called. She's probably still trying to figure out how to broach Julia's offer with Dean and Sam."
"It's awkward for her," Sara agreed. "Although I can also understand the appeal. Just the Men of Letters' name is evocative. With its ties to the Winslows, is it any wonder that Graham and Julia want to find out more about the group?"
"And there's so much that's still a mystery. Sam told me a British branch is still active but even Bobby knows very little about them." Neal caught a glimpse of something moving from the corner of his eye. He whipped around and adjusted his binoculars. Sara swung around to look as well.
"Slight figure, dressed in black. She's holding a dark bag, probably cloth," he murmured as he snapped photos. "Appears to be a woman. Black mask. Long dark hair."
"Notice the way she's staggering. Is she drunk?"
Neal grinned. "It looks like she's performing a drunken sailor's dance." He zoomed in with the binoculars. "That's a flask she's holding to her mouth."
"I don't see how she could be our cat burglar," Sara said as the woman tripped on her feet and fell to the ground.
Neal's jaw dropped as she suddenly vanished. "Where'd she go?"
"I don't know. How could she simply disappear?" Sara demanded in frustration. "My eyes were on her."
"My best guess? She's some sort of paranormal spirit."
"You're joking, right?"
Neal shook his head. "Not after the events of the past year. Need I remind you of Scotts Bluff?"
Sara winced. "I'm not likely to forget."
Their summer vacation with Peter and El had been interrupted when they became toys for a Greek god's amusement. Was something similar happening again? Neal glanced at his watch. "It's two o'clock. We don't need to wake up the Winchesters about this. Our tipsy thief hasn't inflicted any bodily harm."
"And that dance was rather endearing," Sara said then quickly added, "Not that I for a moment condone the crimes. We should alert the police so they can notify the homeowner."
"And tell them we saw a drunk spirit go poof in the night?" Neal shook his head. "That's not going to help our reputations."
Sara gave a small sigh. "You're right, plus the homeowners are also probably sound asleep. If the pattern holds, the police won't find any evidence."
"And now we know why. I doubt seriously a spirit has any fingerprints to leave."
Sara nodded in agreement. "Is the same true for footprints?"
Neal flashed her a smile. "Let's find out."
They exited the car to examine the spot where they'd seen the spirit. The night was warm. A heavy dew had already condensed on the broad expanse of lawn in front of the large Colonial brick house. Neal and Sara's footprints were easily seen on the wet grass, but their spirit had vanished without a trace.
Sara chuckled. "Your first case for Win-Win and it involves the supernatural. I worked at Sterling-Bosch for over two years and didn't have a single similar incident. Maybe Peter was right. You are a magnet for the paranormal."
Neal grinned. "Didn't I promise you our lives would never be dull?"
* * * * *
Sara was glad everyone was present when they went over to Maia's house the next morning. Dean, Sam, Bobby, Maia, and Chloe were all on hand to hear their description of the mystery thief. They sat in the living room, not Sara's favorite room in the world despite the new furniture and poker table. The stained-glass angels were still there. They were undeniably beautiful, and she knew they'd been disenchanted, but she had the uneasy sensation they were listening in. Which was ridiculous. Neal didn't appear to be bothered. She shouldn't be either.
"That thief doesn't sound like anything we've encountered," Sam said with a worried frown. He turned to Bobby. "You ever run into anything similar?"
Bobby thought for a couple of moments before slowly shaking his head. "It doesn't sound like a trickster. I suppose it could be some minor spirit who gets her jollies out of jewelry, but why did she show up now?"
"Have you noticed anything missing?" Sara asked. "Is your jewelry secure?"
"I rechecked this morning and everything's safe," Maia said. "Chloe and I don't own anything expensive. As for Astrena's jewelry, we had Bobby place them in a curse box. That's where they'll remain until we're sure they're not enchanted."
"The only item that's missing is Bobby's flask," Dean said with a pointed look at him. "You haven't found it yet, have you?"
"Nope, but it ain't worth squat."
"The spirit was carrying a flask," Neal said, exchanging excited glances with Sara. "The photos we obtained are too dark to show much detail, but the flask appeared to be a dark color."
"The outer case was probably leather," Sara added. "A large square cut out in front showed a silver liner. I'm not positive, but it might have been engraved."
"Balls, that sounds like mine!" Bobby exclaimed angrily. "How'd she get hold of it and why?"
Neal shrugged. "Maybe she was thirsty. We did mention she appeared drunk. What did you have in it?"
"Rye whiskey." Bobby scowled. "Everywhere else she stole jewels. Here she took something much more valuable. I reckon that bitch has been refilling it in every house she hit."
"But now, thanks to the security system Mozzie installed, we should have a video of her," Neal said. "Let's pull up the camera feed."
"About that." Chloe gave Dean a knowing look. "Is there anything you'd like to say?"
Dean took a slow breath. "We turned the feed off. Hey, don't look at me that way. I didn't want anyone prying on us. Someone could have hacked the feed and put it on the internet. It happens all the time."
"Not with Mozzie's security system," Neal quickly assured him.
"I understand you feel the cameras are intrusive, but will you turn them back on now?" Sara pleaded. "The thief may come back."
"Sara's right," Maia seconded. "For all we know, she could be associated with one of the items in the house."
"What's the problem, Dean?" Bobby rumbled. "Everyone already knows you like Scooby-Doo, and who cares if they see you wearing bunny-rabbit jammies?"
Dean glared at him. "You wouldn't."
Sam stared at him wide-eyed with delight. "When did you have bunny-rabbit jammies? I need details."
"As do I!" Chloe squealed.
"First of all, they were Bugs Bunny sleep pants, and I was eight years old at the time." Dean smiled fondly. "Man, they were awesome." He let out a noisy exhale. "Okay, I'll turn on the cameras. If nothing else, to keep the bunny netsuke safe."
Sara turned to Neal, preparing to tease him about what pajamas he'd worn as a kid. Dare she mention Baby Bear? But the thought flew out the window. If Neal had been a hunting dog, he would have been pointing at the wall. She studied the oak paneling he was staring at and didn't see anything suspicious, but he was already heading toward a panel in the center.
Everyone stopped to watch him as his slim fingers ran over a strip of molding.
"Did anyone notice this panel isn't completely flush with the wall?" he asked.
"Never gave it much mind," Bobby admitted.
Neal crouched on the carpet as he continued to examine the paneling. "I worked in this room for hours when we were filming Aidan's short feature last winter. I'm sure I would have noticed it." He was now in full cat-burglar mode. This was a reminder Sara needed to take him up on his offer to run thief workshops for Win-Win's agents.
His hand paused. He tapped with his index finger under the molding. A hidden door popped open.
Chloe gasped. "Why didn't we find it?"
Sam shrugged. "Our focus was on magical hiding places."
"I bet Astrena thought the same way," Dean said. "She was probably more concerned about witches stealing her treasures than regular thieves."
"Then who made it?" Maia asked.
"It's an old home," Neal said, retrieving a miniature flashlight from a jacket pocket. "One of the previous owners could have installed it. The cubby hole is well made but whoever closed it was careless. They left it slightly ajar."
"What's inside?" Dean asked, crouching next to him.
Neal scanned the interior with his flashlight. "A large black tote. It resembles the one we saw the thief carrying." He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a pair of gloves. He then pulled the canvas bag out of its hiding place.
Sara also retrieved gloves. "No one should touch anything unless you have gloves on. Assume that whatever we find will eventually be examined by the police."
Neal peered inside the cavity and broke into a grin. "We've found the missing jewels." He began pulling out clear plastic bags of jewelry.
"So that's where our bags disappeared!" Chloe exclaimed. "I'd noticed the box of bags we use to store dried herbs was empty and I was sure I had several left."
"Bobby, is this your flask?" Neal asked, pulling out a leather-wrapped pint flask.
"Well, I'll be a squirrel in a skirt." Bobby scratched his cheek. "Why did the thief take such a hankering to it?"
Neal unscrewed the cap and sniffed it. "It's filled with sake. I'm guessing that's not your libation of choice."
Bobby groaned. "Balls, I'd aged that flask for years. Now I'll feel like I'm carrying a tanuki gourd." He paused as his eyes widened.
"What is it, Bobby?" Dean demanded.
"The description of the thief, their tipsiness, the sake." His brow furrowed as he stared at the netsuke cabinet. "There's a tanuki in Astrena's collection. Maybe it's enchanted."
Sara looked to Neal for help.
"A tanuki is a Japanese raccoon dog," he explained. "It's a common subject for netsuke and is usually depicted with a sake gourd tied to its belt."
Dean was already scrutinizing the netsuke cabinet. "The rabbit's on a different shelf. Did anyone rearrange the netsuke?"
Everyone denied it, but Dean swore the animals in the small two-shelf cabinet weren't in their customary positions. The case was a handsome design in rosewood with inlaid strips of paler wood. The sides and top had glass inserts to display the netsuke.
Sam pointed at the ivory tanuki. "You're telling me this is the thief?"
"In Japanese lore, a tanuki is a demon, one of the yokai," Bobby explained. "In Japanese, it's called Bake-danuki." He added something in Japanese. Sara didn't understand the expression but it made Neal laugh. The two of them started talking in Japanese. They were speaking much too fast for Sara to keep up. Why had she been practicing Italian? Knowing Japanese was clearly more urgent. And where had Bobby acquired such fluency?
"Hey, time out, guys!" Dean complained. "Mind speaking in English for us peasants?"
"Sorry," Neal said. "The term yokai can mean monster or spirit. They're not necessarily evil. Some are benevolent. Others are mischievous scamps. Tanuki are often seen in front of bars and restaurants in Japan as a symbol of good luck."
"They're also known as supernatural tricksters and shapeshifters." Bobby exhaled. "Guess we gotta add thief to their resume."
"That's quite a stretch," Dean objected. "It's hard to believe a little netsuke could transform into a human-sized burglar."
"Maia, did Astrena ever discuss her collection with you?" Sara asked.
"She acquired them on a trip to Japan about a year ago. She mentioned she'd bought them at an auction." Maia thought for a moment. "Crowley was a frequent visitor back then. He could know more about them."
Dean groaned. "Must we involve him?"
"We don't have much choice," Sam said, not looking happy at the thought either. "He's the only one who has an inside track on Astrena."
Sara could barely contain her excitement. Neal had told her about Crowley and how he'd possessed the art forger Curtis Hagen. She could tell that even though he was a demon, Neal rather liked him, and now she was going to meet him!
* * * * *
Not the most convenient time, but Crowley couldn't resist popping in when Maia called. It was an easy bet that a certain enchanted netsuke was the cause.
When Crowley materialized in Maia's salon, he was particularly gratified. Bobby was an entertaining sparring partner. Cheekbones's wit was almost on a par with his own. Tatyana the pooch and the girls always welcomed him, even if the boys weren't effusive in their greetings. But who was that flame-haired beauty? A druid maiden come to life?
"As always, a pleasure to help extricate you from whatever mess you've gotten yourselves into," he said, tempering his sarcasm for the moment. "Permit me to introduce myself," he added, approaching the green-eyed maiden. "Crowley, King of Hell and current resident of Earth. And you are?"
"Sara Ellis, investigator for Winston-Winslow," she said, smiling at him. "I'm delighted to meet you. Neal's told me all about you."
"I can assure you not everything. Cheekbones doesn't know a tenth of what I'm capable of." So Scarlet worked for Win-Win. A Woman of Letters. Intriguing. The thought would have been disquieting, but now that he was pals with Henry and his fellow Men of Letters after having saved them from Abaddon, he had no cause for alarm.
Cheekbones took a step forward to stand next to her. "Sara is also my fiancée."
"Pity. You have good taste." Did Scarlet realize what a tribute that was? He seldom dished out compliments unless he had had something to gain from it. "Ellis is an English name, but surely you have Gaelic blood."
Bobby grunted impatiently. "Maia, do something with him."
"Pipe down," Crowley retorted. "You called me. I assume you want my help. What I'm requesting in exchange is very small." But compelling.
"It's no secret," Scarlet said. "My mother's maiden name was MacLeod. Her ancestors originally came from Scotland." She smiled at Neal. "They claimed there was Irish blood somewhere in the mix too."
A relative? None of this group knew that hundreds of years ago—before he'd ascended to demon status—his name was Fergus MacLeod, and he wasn't about to disclose that precious nugget, but welcome to the clan, Scarlet.
"I've answered your question," she said. "It's your turn now. Do you know if the netsukes are enchanted?"
"We suspect the tanuki may be a thief," Maia added. "We'd be very grateful for any information you can provide."
"Normally I'd insist on amenities first, but I was in the midst of a business transaction when you called and can't linger. Has Itsumi been causing issues?"
"Who's Itsumi?" Maia's moose asked.
He could let them stew in their own mess, but this was a time when he had nothing to lose. Itsumi was useless to him. If he helped them out, they'd owe him still more favors. And he was keeping a careful accounting for payback. "Gather around, kids, and take note. This is yet one more time I'm pulling your arses out of the fire." He gave a pointed look at Bobby. "I hope you're keeping track."
Bobby scowled. "From where I stand, you're still working off your debt. Do you want the particulars?"
About my club in New Orleans? No, thank you. "Astrena enchanted the tanuki during a trip to Tokyo. A thief named Itsumi had the misfortune of burgling her hotel suite. Astrena discovered her and bound her to the netsuke. I happened to be present when Astrena decided to check on her thief. Alas, the Queen of the Stars had made a royal mess of things. She hadn't realized the tanuki was already under an enchantment. Itsumi's personality has merged with the tanuki. She's now an uncontrollable drunk, albeit a happy one."
"What about the other pieces in the collection?" Dean demanded. "Are they also enchanted?"
"I have no idea, but Astrena said she'd purchased the entire collection along with the cabinet at an auction. And you can save your breath. Astrena didn't tell me how she managed to restrain Itsumi into her tanuki shell. My advice is for you to keep your valuables hidden. Itsumi is an expert thief." He paused to weigh his options. How much should he tell them? He had no desire to get in Gemma's bad graces, but they should be warned. Tatyana and Maia were looking at him with nearly identical pleading expressions. "I wouldn't want her to get hold of Astrena's crystal ball or grimoire, for instance."
"Why did you mention them?" Chloe asked anxiously.
Crowley shrugged. "Think about it. You've been living in this house for nine months. Why did Itsumi suddenly reappear? Did you cast a spell on the tanuki?"
Maia shook her head. "No, we didn't know she was enchanted."
"Well, someone did. What you should ask yourselves is why. What do you have in the house that a witch might want? Then you might use those wits which are hopefully rattling around somewhere in your skulls to figure out who."
"Like, for instance, one of Astrena's sisters?" Sam asked.
Crowley's opinion of him notched up two levels. He was starting to understand why Maia loved the moose. They were two gullible bookworms, and bloody hell, they were making even him want to protect them. He needed to scram before this got out of hand. "That would be my assumption, but the only other sister I know of is Alcy and you already took care of her." It wouldn't do to be too accommodating. They'd start to take him for granted.
"We haven't used Astrena's crystal ball," Chloe admitted. "Do you know anything about it?"
How much should he reveal? If he didn't say anything, how much trouble would they get into? Would the boys then blame him? It was a difficult call. Secrets were power. "Astrena never used it in my presence, but she mentioned she could talk with her sisters through it. You banished Astrena to the stars, but conceivably she could communicate with them through the ball. I'd be very careful around it."
"Do you know how many sisters she had?" Chloe asked.
"No, but she always spoke of her sisters, implying there had to be at least two. Good luck with your little mystery, and keep your treasures safe." He winked at his new niece. "Till next time, Scarlet." With a snap of his fingers, he teleported back to New Orleans.
* * * * * * * * * *
Notes: Crowley will hoard his connection to Sara in his vault of secrets for quite a while. Secrets have the knack of escaping eventually, though, and this one will too.