White Collar - as an unofficial novel - part 3

Milk and Cookies

Peter came home late. He dumped his briefcase on the sofa. El came out of the kitchen.

"Hey," he said, too frustrated with the whole situation to stand still. He walked to the window towards the street.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Still haven't found Neal. We got a detail outside."

"Yeah, I saw."

"As if he'd be careless enough to come here."

As he had said those words his eyes fell on one of the dining room chairs. It was pulled out as if someone had been sitting there. He looked at El, who avoided his look, which was not like her. His eyes wandered to the frosted glass of the kitchen door. Someone was moving on the other side. He placed his hands on his hips and glared at his wife. What had she done?!

"Where do you think he did go, El?" he asked. She just moved uncomfortably. "Is he in the kitchen?"

She nodded. This day just turned worse. Instead of one problem he just got two, and his own wife was one of them.

"Neal!" he said in a commanding whisper, to keep the detail outside calm.

The door slid open at once and the kid appeared with his hands raised.

"Peter..."

He gestured for him to come out from the kitchen and the kid hurried out and placed himself behind the thick bookshelf to stay out of sight from the window and the policemen outside.

"All the places you could run, you go to my wife?"

"Saying it like it's a bad thing."

Peter turned to his wife.

"You helped him sneak in?"

"Wouldn't have had to if there weren't people sitting at our house."

"You lied to the FBI."

"Honey, I did not lie to the FBI. There was just a lot of milk and cookies and pleasant distracting conversation while Neal slipped around back."

"I love this. You've turned my wife into an accomplice." He had wanted to find Neal first to keep the kid as safe as possible. Now he had to fight the urge to smack him in the face for bringing his beloved El into the mess as well.

"Give me one minute to explain," Neal asked.

He looked at Elizabeth. She held up a finger and mimicked 'one minute' with the pleading look that always gave her what she wanted. She gave him a kiss and disappeared into the kitchen.

Peter remained with his hands on his hips, pushing the irrational thinking away. Neal was there and he was not about to run anywhere.

"One minute," he granted. He walked to the bookshelf and pulled out a book at random. "Explain what you were thinking when you did a free fall from the judge's chambers. While I decide if I drag you back in chains."

"Does that minute start now?"

"Go."

"Okay. I told you I was set up by someone very close to you. Couldn't tell because I thought it was somebody in the FBI. Now I'm positive it's Fowler."

"Fowler? That's not—"

"I've got 52 seconds left," Neal interrupted him. "Had a little free time on my hands the past few days. So I've been putting these together."

The kid pulled some papers out of the pocket of his jacket and unfolded them over Peter's book.

"They're documents Fowler shredded after I requested access to my files."