White Collar - as an unofficial novel - part 3

The short list of suspects

When they stepped out of the car in the FBI's garage Neal reflected that it was almost four months since he arrived here with Peter after his first long working day as a consultant on a temporary basis. One of those months he had spent in house arrest. Quite a large portion of the time percent-wise. Yet, it felt like his natural habitat now, his work with Peter, in FBI's White Collar unit.

As they took the elevator, Peter began talking about the jewelry heist again. Neal would begin searching for suspects from a competence point of view. There were not that many that could make a diamond like that. Neal nodded, absent-minded. He was already going through a list in his memory of every criminal he ever heard of that could fit the profile.

They walked into the office.

"ERT's going over the alarm system but this guy's a pro," Peter said. "Think they'll find any prints?"

"No."

Neal's eyes fell upon a man sitting with his back to him in the conference room speaking to Hughes. It was something about his pose, something intimidating.

"You okay?" Peter asked. The man glanced over his shoulder in their direction.

"Who's that?"

Peter looked too.

"I don't know. Hughes doesn't look happy."

Jones joined them.

"OPR's here," he informed them with a sigh.

"That explains why," Peter smirked.

"OPR?"

"Office of Professional Responsibility," Peter translated. "Police have Internal Affairs. We have OPR."

So this was someone investigated them? Could not be a good sign. There stood a man outside the conference room who probably belonged to OPR too. Looked like a man with a constant smirk glued to his face.

"Hughes wants you in the office," Jones said to Peter.

"Of course he does."

Peter left towards the conference room. The OPR-man glanced over his shoulder again and looked straight at Neal. It was a curious face. Well, not that strange. It was not every day the criminal they caught became consultants. Neal walked to his desk.

Peter walked into the conference room where Hughes and the man from OPR sat. He had a gut feeling this would not be pleasant but he could not figure out anything he had done that would draw the attention of OPR. The man was not looking at him when he walked inside though. He glanced over his shoulder at Neal.

"Agent Burke, this is Garrett Fowler," Hughes presented the man.

Fowler extended his hand and Peter shook it.

"OPR."

"Bad news travels fast," Fowler said.

"Yes, it does."

"As far as anyone knows," Hughes began, "he's here for a standard review."

Peter knew what that meant. It meant the opposite. And as a man of honesty and open cards, he immediately disapproved of it all. He sat down at the end of the table, between his boss and the OPR man.

"Yeah, because that line always works. Nobody's gonna buy that bridge today."

Peter glanced at Fowler's paper on the table.

"That's my file."

"Yes, it is," Fowler confirmed. "It's impressive work," he said as he browsed through the content.