White Collar: An unofficial novel - part 8

Canvas commentary

Back at the office, Neal spread out a map over Manhattan across the conference room table, while his handler briefed Jones who had joined them.

"Franklin shows up at her showroom," Peter pointed at the map. "Rebecca tells everyone she's going for a test drive and," his finger drove across the map, "she parks the car here."

"Or Franklin phoned her and they met there," Neal suggested.

"Mm-hmm," Peter nodded.

"Boss, look at this file," Diana said, hurrying inside the room.

Peter opened the file and Neal looked over his shoulder.

"The Sullivan antitrust case," Peter said reading the headline of the newspaper clip.

"It's the case Franklin was working on," Diana said, "before he got transferred from White Collar."

"Where'd you find it?" Neal wanted to know

"In a locked file drawer in Franklin's office." The answer was not without pride. "I got in there before I let the marshals search it."

Neal had always been impressed by Diana. He saw a photo of Deckard in the file, pushed it aside, and saw another one.

"That's Deckard. Are these all U.S. marshals?"

"No, not all of 'em," Peter said, browsing the photos too. "Some are witnesses. This guy's a lawyer. So is this guy."

Neal heard someone asking for Agent Burke out in the office.

"Peter," he whispered, nodding his head towards the door, where Deckard could be seen, coming their way. His handler got the message and pushed the file into a case and close it without seeming to rush it.

"Come on," he nodded to Neal.

"Wait a minute," Peter said to him as if they were in the middle of a conversation, "if it's a canvas commentary, why would he use white—"

"Burke," Deckard blocked their way when they got out of the conference room. "Any leads?"

"Deckard..." Peter sighed with a polite smile. "A little heads-up when you're on your way over here."

Deckard was not a man who cared about the reprimand.

"Hey, what did Franklin's C.I. say to you? Did she give you a location?"

"Ah, we don't have anything yet. How did you know that we met with Rebecca Vidal?"

"The marshals can track my anklet," Neal said. He hated when that option was used for anything but checking if he was within his radius.

"I heard you were quick." Deckard sent him one of his shark smiles. "Are those Franklin's files?"

"Just the files you gave us this morning." Peter lied impressively well.

"You know, just because Franklin's one of you doesn't make him any less guilty."

"We're on the same team," the agent smiled back at him. "Jones, show him what we have."

Maneuvering Deckard in the other direction while they continued down the stairs to the office.

"You're not sharing the file from Franklin's office," Neal noted with a whisper.

"Think I'll take it home with me."

"Working from home, that's one way to avoid them looking over your shoulder."

"Here's the other way," Peter stopped. "You stay here and let them look over your shoulder."

"With pleasure." He hated the idea of Deckard checking, and if he could limit the man's chances to get anything valuable out of it he would enjoy desk job any day. "Oh, Peter... Have fun cooking your pot roast."