Meghan Ross: Con Artist in Training

Conflict of Interest (Part 3)

"So, Harvey Reginald Spector asked about your dear oldest brother?" Neal asked from wherever he was.

"Yeah. Peter may have assumed that everyone knew I was trying to find out how you would, you know... come back to life," Meghan replied. It was late and she had gone to bed. At least that's what Harvey had assumed. She kept her voice low, but it wasn't a whisper. "And I didn't tell you his middle name so that you could be amused by... actually, I never told... You had Mozzie run a background check on him when you were still here."

"What'd he think of Mozz?"

"That's a loaded question," Meghan chuckled.

"Yeah, he is an acquired taste, isn't he."

A light was still on in the guestroom, but the door was angled in such a way that Harvey wouldn't have known she was still up unless he went to check on her. Her bare feet padded the hardwood flooring as she slowly walked around the room.

"Listen-"

"If you don't want to tell me how you would come back, that's fine, but I'm going to do this before it's too late."

"Just listen to me, okay. You don't have to do that." Meghan stopped pacing. "I've never lied to you, Megs."

"I get that, but why do I have to listen?"

"There's something you don't know... Before I tell you, I need you to ask Mike about WITSEC. Ask him if he's told you everything you should know."

The line went dead. Neal had been cryptic with her before, but it was never like this. What was her brother not telling her about WITSEC? She really thought she knew everything. After all, she was part of the plan that took her off the grid when she was seven.

She could call him back, but he probably wasn't going to answer until the next day after he was sure she had talked to Mike.

At night, Meghan had a special way of thinking. If there was something on her mind, she couldn't fall asleep until the problem had been solved. As far as her Stephen case went, she was usually able to leave work at work. But what Neal had said, or suggested, kept her up for hours... She lay on the floor under the bed, staring up at the slats that were holding the queen-sized mattress up after she turned the light off.

She picked through every WITSEC memory she had, right up until what might have been the last visit from the Marshall's. None of them stood out until she got to the last time she remembered seeing a Marshall windbreaker.

Seven-year-old Meghan was reading a book in another room while Edith and Mike where in the dining room. She could see what they were doing but she didn't care. It wasn't the first time she'd seen the windbreaker and she was positive it wasn't going to be the last.

Due to the nature of the crime that put their mother and brother in the program, that windbreaker had become a monthly, sometimes weekly visit. But that day was the last time she'd seen it in her home until they met Mozzie.

Did Dad and Grammy opt us out without telling me? She thought. She wasn't old enough to sign legal documents at the time, but it would certainly explain everything and answer the question Harvey had asked of her. With today's technology and facial recognition programs, how had she avoided detection for nine years? There was no possible way for Mozzie to be that vigilant and still plan cons or help the Caffrey-Ross siblings with their different caseloads.

Did Mozzie know? She knew the man to only keep a secret if he was running a con, so maybe he didn't know anything. But he was monitoring their WITSEC files, and Neal obviously knew things she didn't, which meant someone told him. And that someone was either Mike or Mozzie. But why wouldn't anyone tell her if they had opted out?