White Collar: An unofficial novel - part 11

Lolana

Sara answered the phone on the first ring.

"Hi, Neal."

"Sara. I need to meet. Are you nearby?" he asked.

"Define nearby."

"Within my radius."

She giggled.

"I'm in a bookstore two blocks from your place."

"I'll be there in ten." He hung up. He had not asked which bookstore, but he had an idea which one it was. He hurried over to it, and there she was, browsing a book.

She looked up when he entered.

"Hey." At that moment, he wished he could leave with her, away from every trouble.

"Hi," she said with that little smile. "You look exhausted. Everything okay?"

"Oh, just... long night." An understatement but not untrue. "Sara, Peter may come to you and ask some questions."

"About what?"

"He thinks the art didn't burn."

"How's that possible?" She frowned. He raised his eyebrows and got the picture. "Oh, he thinks you took it." She sounded excited. Was that good or bad? Neal was not sure.

"I was off-anklet when it could have happened."

"So you need an alibi." She crossed her arms. "What is it you're hoping I tell him?"

"The truth," Neal said. He was glad that he, for once, could ask someone that. "About the other night."

"You want me to tell him everything? 'Cause that could get really very awkward." She leaned in to kiss him, grabbing his tie as if he was about to run from something so lovely. She giggled.

"Skip the good parts," Neal mumbled.

"Yeah," she nodded. Then she looked him in the eye. "Did you take it?"

"No." She kept looking at him, searching for the truth. "Do you believe me?"

"You're a damn good con man." He sighed but accepted her doubt. He moved towards the exit. "Caffrey," she called after him. He turned by the door. "If that art is out there, any idea who has it?" He was about to say no but bit his tongue. She had demanded him not to lie to her. Still, he could not answer the question truthfully. Because then she had to lie to Peter. He almost shook his head but made it into some form of shrug and left.

When he got back home, he found the door open and saw the back of Mozzie out on the patio. He had been gone for maybe thirty minutes. The timing was spooky. On his kitchen table stood a little figure of a woman in a hula-hula dress. He touched it, and it swayed with a tiny chime.

"Her name is Lolana," Mozzie said from his chair outside.

"She from any island in particular?"

"Whichever one your heart desires."

Neal put his hand in his inner pocket and pulled out the calling card he had got that led him to the warehouse with the treasure.

"So, I guess this was from you?" Moz turned, a glass of white wine in his hand. He chuckled when he saw the card. "How?"

"It wasn't easy."

"The warehouse?" Neal started.

His friend rose and walked to him with two glasses of wine.

"I worked backwards from the transmitter you wired into the limo."

"Security?"

"I got around it with a localized E.M. burst."