White Collar: An unofficial novel - part 11

When did that happen

"Uh, hold on a second," Neal said by Peter's side as he changed his grip on the large box he carried. "Isn't there a probie who would've benefited more from lugging evidence around?"

Peter grinned. Some part of him just loved to tease the kid, reminding him that he was a prison inmate.

"Hmm, carrying evidence isn't considered valuable field experience," he said.

"For anyone," Neal added to that.

"I'm sure you never complained when you were hauling around plasma cutters and borescopes."

"When I'm cracking safes, I have a sense of purpose." Peter really did not like that smile on the kid's face. "Had," the young convict corrected himself. "Had a sense of purpose."

"Now you have a new purpose," Peter lectured. "Lugging these Rolex knock-offs to evidence." It may not be glamorous but he was working for the FBI, not rotting away in a maximum security prison.

Neal changed the grip on the box again as they walked into the entry floor of the FBI headquarters.

"We're almost there," Peter said in the elevator, and the kid looked desperate.

The door opened, and they walked into the office of the White Collar unit. The kid stopped and Peter had to sidestep to not walk into him.

"Sara," the kid said. Peter looked around and, yes, there was Sara. "Did you... Find something interesting?"

"On your desk? No." Sara flipped a file open and showed them a map. "In the ocean, yes. This is big, guys."

"I'll get the team together in the conference room," Peter said at once.

"I'll talk to Neal first."

What had the kid done now? Peter glanced at Neal, but to his surprise, he was met by a smile and handed over the box with knock-offs.

"Thank you."

"Oh!" Peter almost dropped the box because it was so heavy. Luckily he did not. "I'll meet you up there." Had he had Neal carry this for two miles? He did not want the kid to prefer prison before working with him.

He put the box on the table in the little kitchenette and saw Neal and Sara go toward the conference room.

"Ah, more 'faux-lex' watches?" Jones asked. Diana inspected the content too.

"Yeah." Peter glanced at the two. Were both smiling?

Jones opened one of the boxes and looked at the watch inside.

"These are the nice ones."

"Our fence in Alphabet City is trying to move 120 boxes," Peter said. "Each box with 35 of these."

"At 600 apiece, that's..." Diana lingered on the answer, calculating it in her head.

"It's 2.5 million street value," Jones said, replacing the watch.

"Oh, you've been sitting too close to Caffrey," Diana chuckled.

Peter watched Sara and Neal in the conference room. They stood close. Close in a way only two very comfortable with each other stood. Close as if they were lovers.

Diana and Jones had turned to watch what he was looking at.

"When did that happen?" Diana asked, baffled.

"I don't know." How was it even possible? She had been close to shooting the kid. Neal saw them watching and waved for them to come. "Diana, round up the Harvard crew. Jones, take this box to evidence."